Child Of The Night

by Lee Karr

  “Yes, you should have. But I have to confess that I was ready to light into you the first chance I got.”

  They looked at each other, and the charged air between them changed like the sun coming out after a storm. He touched her arm and sent a pulsating heat radiating between them. “I have a level head when it comes to business, but my emotions get in the way when I feel deeply about something. And I definitely have some very deep feelings about my daughter…and you.”

  Tyla didn’t trust herself to control the temptation to let his arms slip around her waist and draw her into that explosive embrace she remembered so well. She drew back.

  “I’m glad it was a misunderstanding,” she said, her breath coming faster than she would have liked. “Cassie is making progress. She’s letting out some of her anger and frustrations.” She told him about the mess she’d made of the dollhouse.

  Clay smiled. “Getting even, was she?”

  “Or coming to terms with what’s expected of her.”

  “Why would Harriet tell you that the family had decided to change therapists? We’ve never discussed anything of the sort.”

  “I rather imagine that Harriet and Doreen made the decision after my visit to your house on Saturday. They are obviously concerned about our relationship.”

  “And what relationship is that?” he asked with a frankness that brought warmth rising in her neck as he moved closer,

  “I…I’m not sure.” Her lips hovered on the edge of a smile.

  “Maybe we ought to spend a little time finding out.”

  “I don’t want to complicate things…”

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing? Maybe if we’d get better acquainted, we could find some answers. Let’s give ourselves some private time. What do you say? We might clarify a lot of things.”

  Tyla never knew whether it was her brain or her heart that swayed her, but suddenly she wavered. Maybe Clay was right. Maybe she was only complicating matters by insisting that her commitment to Cassie didn’t allow for any relationship between herself and Clay. After a moment she nodded. “All right.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do I detect a professional overtone in your capitulation?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Could it be that you’re planning some off-the-cuff evaluations in the guise of casual dating?”

  “What kind of casual dating are you talking about?” she asked solemnly, but a soft smile reached her eyes.

  “How about a day of sailing? You told me how much you enjoyed sailing with your father. Crescent Lake isn’t the Pacific, but the wind, water and fresh air will lift your spirits in the same way. How about next weekend?”

  She thought about Cassie’s trauma concerning her papa’s sailboat and couldn’t resist asking, “Have you ever capsized?”

  He laughed. “Show me an amateur sailor who hasn’t.”

  “Is there any reason why Cassie might be anxious about you and your boat?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Something happened yesterday when Cassie was playing with a sailboat in the sink. When the little boat turned over in the water, she became very distressed. She identified it as Papa’s boat.”

  He touched the scar on his right temple. “I guess she was remembering a little accident I had last summer. She and Lynette were watching from the shore when an inexperienced friend of mine let the boom swing free, knocking me in the head and out of the boat. I lost consciousness, but my life jacket kept me afloat. The paramedics were called and they took me to the hospital for stitches and an overnight checkup. Lynette didn’t help the situation any with her hysterics. She disliked boats of any kind and was always warning me about drowning. I’m not surprised that Cassie’s had bad memories about the incident.”

  The explanation made sense. Cassie could have been remembering the boating accident and become fearful when the little sailboat tipped over.

  He was watching her thoughtful expression. “You’re not afraid to go out with me, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” she lied. Her hesitation had nothing to do with a capsizing boat but with something that was much more intimate. A day on the water with Clay Archer could present a lot more danger than an unexpected dunking.

  “All right, then,” he said with a nod of satisfaction. “We’re all set. And I’ll make certain Cassie is here tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her gray-blue eyes shone with a tantalizing softness, and Clay fought the urge to bend his head and kiss her. He’d known sensual cravings before, but this woman mocked his usual emotional control. His hands yearned to touch her face, stroke the sweet softness of her cheeks, touch his lips to the warm hollow of her neck and feel her swelling breasts as they pressed against his chest. He reeled with a hunger that fired his male hormones to an explosive pitch. She would be amazed to know how much she had disrupted his whole life. When he wasn’t with her, he was thinking about her. And when she was close enough to kiss, he wanted to carry her off to bed. Maybe spending more time with her would put some sanity back into his life.

  “I’ll pick you up about nine o’clock on Saturday for a day on the water,” he said abruptly, and without waiting for her to respond, he strode out of her office.

  Tyla stared after him. She wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. Somehow her resolve not to see him outside the office had weakened. And why did she let him send her emotions into a tailspin every time she was with him? After her experience in California, getting romantically involved with anyone was pure stupidity.

  She sat down, put her elbows on her desk and rested her head in her hands. All right, let’s keep this thing in perspective, she told herself. Spending time with Clay could help her understand his relationship with his daughter, and anything she learned might help release Cassie from the dark torment that plagued her. But was she only lying to herself? Was the rationalization that let her agree to go sailing with Clay only a feeble effort to hide the truth?

  Tyla lifted her head and leaned back in her chair. Would it be possible to keep her personal feelings under control? She knew that if she wasn’t careful, Clay Archer could sabotage the emotional defenses she’d carefully maintained since coming to Colorado. And what if she learned something infamous about him that would force her to protect Cassie from her own father?

  There was something dark and unresolved between them. What in heaven’s name could it be?

  The next afternoon Cassie arrived on time with the young maid, Marie, who had been in charge of the child on the day of Tyla’s visit to the Archer home.

  “Hello, Cassie. Nice to see you again, Marie,” said Tyla, wanting the maid to know that she remembered her.

  Cassie had her hands thrust deeply into her jeans pockets as if deliberately keeping Marie from taking one of them, but her rounded blue eyes held a lively glint that Tyla found reassuring. In fact, the child looked like someone who had fought a battle and won.

  Marie smiled at Tyla. “Mr. Archer says I’m to bring Cassie from now on.”

  “That sounds like a good plan.”

  She hesitated as if wanting to say more, then lowered her voice. “There was some problem about yesterday. Mr. Archer was plenty mad about Cassie missing her session. Gosh, he and Mrs. Millard really went at it.” Her eyes rounded. “Miss Doreen got in on it, too. We could hear them clear up in the nursery.”

  Tyla had no trouble imagining the loud voices and angry words. Harriet was not a woman who would back down easily.

  “Well, I’m glad everything has been straightened out,” said Tyla smoothly. She was as curious as anyone about what had gone on between Clay and the two women, and would have loved to have a blow-by-blow description, but she couldn’t let Marie know it. Tyla didn’t want to depend upon gossip for her information.

  “Are you planning on waiting here for Cassie or coming back at four o’clock?” Tyla asked Marie, who was looking around nervously.

  “I thought I’d run over to the shopping center…if that�
�s all right. I mean, they let me bring one of the cars. But if you need me to stay here…” Her voice faded into a question.

  “Not at all. Just be back in an hour.”

  “Yes, I will. Bye, Cassie.” She waved a plump hand and hurried out the front door as if relieved.

  “I missed you, Cassie. I’m glad you came today,” Tyla told her, happily noting that the child’s facial muscles seemed relaxed.

  Her hair was caught in two short ponytails that bobbed at the sides of her head as she looked up at Tyla. “Now we go to the playroom.”

  “Yes, it’s time to go to the playroom,” Tyla agreed. She held out her hand, but Cassie kept hers in her pants pockets.

  “It’s not good to be late,” Cassie said in a grown-up voice that had a hint of reprimand in it as they started down the hall.

  Tyla nodded solemnly, knowing that Cassie was innocently parroting what she had been told. She was always amazed at how much children revealed about their backgrounds when they role-played, mimicking the authority figures in their lives. Tyla easily detected Harriet Millard’s dogmatic tone.

  Cassie marched into the playroom and, as soon as Tyla had shut the door, the little girl took her hands out of her pockets. She held them out and showed Tyla that she had a paper-wrapped candy in each one.

  Tyla smiled. “Oh, you have candy. Two pieces.”

  “I took them.”

  This wasn’t the time or place for a moral lesson. Tyla laid her notebook and pen on the table and then sat down in her usual chair without replying.

  “I took the candy,” Cassie repeated with a stubborn jut to her tiny chin.

  Tyla leaned back in the chair and nodded. “You took the candy.” Her tone was noncommittal. Obviously Cassie had swiped the candy, but this was the first time that the child had initiated the conversation and Tyla didn’t want to shut it off with any sign of disapproval.

  “Nobody knows,” Cassie told her. “Not Cook. Not Marie.” She stepped closer to Tyla’s chair and whispered in childish secrecy, “Nobody knows.”

  “Only Cassie knows she has candy.”

  “And you. You know,” Cassie corrected her.

  Tyla smiled inwardly. The child had made her a guilty conspirator in the deed. “Yes, I know Cassie took the candy.”

  The little girl carefully laid the two pieces on top of Tyla’s notebook. Then she ordered solemnly, “Now, you write Cassie brings teacher candy. Teacher likes Cassie.”

  The childish bribery caught at Tyla’s heart. Did Cassie feel that she had to ensure Tyla’s affection by giving her the candy? How sad that the child couldn’t accept the truth that someone could like her for herself alone.

  Be careful, Tyla told herself. What she did now was very important to their future relationship. Tyla couldn’t reject the gift, but she couldn’t give Cassie the impression that it had any importance in their relationship.

  “I always write in my book that I like Cassie.” Tyla gently moved the candy aside and opened her notebook to a written page. “It’s right here. Every day I write nice things about you. Yesterday I put down that Cassie didn’t come and how unhappy I was.” She smiled at Cassie. “But you are here today and I’m happy.”

  Cassie looked down at the two pieces of candy, and Tyla wondered what was going through her mind. After a couple of seconds the little girl looked up and gave Tyla a lopsided grin. “Cassie happy, too.”

  Impulsively Tyla picked up the two pieces and held “them out to her. The little girl reached out and took one, leaving the other in Tyla’s palm. With a soft giggle Cassie hurriedly unwrapped the paper and popped the candy into her mouth. From her satisfied expression and slightly drooling mouth, Tyla realized what a sacrifice it had been for Cassie to give away the candy. And how much value the child put on Tyla “liking” her.

  The hour went by without further incident. Cassie spent most of the time playing with a set of castle blocks, building high towers and knocking them over. One time she mounted about a dozen blocks on top of each other before the column became overbalanced. When it fell with a loud crash, Cassie’s laughter filled the room and Tyla felt as if she’d been given gold bullion.

  She wrote down in big, bold letters, CASSIE LAUGHED!

  Chapter 13

  Tyla awoke on Saturday to a gray, misty fog masking the western rim of the front range mountains. It was a chilly, wet day with no sign of the sun breaking through the shroud of dark clouds. Her feelings were mixed as she looked out the French doors at the dreary landscape. Not a day to go sailing.

  She turned away from the windows. Well, she shouldn’t have agreed to go with Clay in the first place, she told herself, and the weather had just cooperated and given her a chance to back out. Her sensible nature had warned her that her emotions were dangerously involved where Clay was concerned. Not only had she looked forward to spending a day on the lake, but she felt an excitement that had been absent in her life for a long time.

  The prospect of sailing had brought back some good memories of the times she’d gone sailing with her father. He’d taught her to be a good crewman, handling the halyards and sheets, looking out for boats and other obstacles and helping to handle the lines. She knew all the jargon: luffing, backing the jib and downhauling. She entertained a smug sense of satisfaction that Clay wouldn’t have to tell her a thing. The prospect of spending the day with him brought a quiver of anticipation that mocked the reason she had agreed to go sailing with him. At the heart of her acceptance was something much more personal than hoping to add some background information that would better help her understand his relationship with Cassie.

  Tyla sat at her small, round kitchen table, nibbling at a piece of toast and wondering what she should do if he suggested they do something else. Simply put, she liked being with Clay Archer. He was the most dynamic, fascinating man she’d ever met. When his eyes held hers or when she caught a soft smile of desire on his lips, she felt totally feminine. He didn’t even have to touch her to send her senses quivering. And she enjoyed looking at him, the planes of his strong face and the lines of his muscled body. She couldn’t begin to imagine how it would feel to have that maleness exploring every facet of her sexuality. One lingering glance could make her aware of the rise and fall of her breasts and the brush of her silky hair upon her cheeks.

  Easy, girl, she told herself. You’ve been alone too long. She took a deep breath, got up and put her breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. She glanced at the clock. He had said he would be there at nine o’clock. He should be phoning any minute to cancel the date. The miserable weather gave every sign of settling in for the weekend.

  Tyla listened for the phone while she showered and dressed in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, her favorite stayat-home outfit, but nine o’clock came and he still hadn’t called. She pursed her lips. If he thought he could make other plans without consulting her first, he had a surprise coming. He might be used to taking charge and dictating his wishes to others, but he’d find out soon enough that a date to go sailing didn’t mean he could decide what they would do instead.

  Maybe he was planning on spending the day here, in her apartment. She stiffened. No way. She hadn’t forgotten what had happened the last time he’d been in the apartment after the fracas with Rubin. She’d been strong enough to pull away from him that day, but why deliberately put herself to the test again?

  When the doorbell rang, she lifted her chin and opened the door with a ready challenge forming in her mind. The words died in her throat. Clay stood there but he wasn’t alone.

  “Cassie!” she said in utter surprise. The sight of the little girl at his side was so unexpected that she gave an embarrassed laugh. “Hello. How nice to see you.”

  “May we come in?” Clay asked as she just stood there blocking the doorway.

  “Oh, of course. I’m sorry. I…I didn’t expect…” she stammered. Ready to berate him for the scenario she had formed in her mind, she was taken aback by his arrival with his daughter. She couldn’t read his e
xpression. Was that a glint of triumph in his eyes? Or defiance? Or amusement? What was going on?

  Tyla focused her attention on Cassie, who was looking around the living room as if she had expected something different. A playroom, perhaps. “I’m glad your daddy brought you to see me.”

  Tyla thought she heard Clay’s low chuckle, as if the idea had not been his.

  Cassie fixed unblinking, round eyes on Tyla. “It’s Saturday.”

  Tyla nodded, wondering what deductive reasoning was going on in the child’s sharp mind. “Today’s Saturday.”

  “I don’t like Saturday. Do you like Saturday?”

  Tyla hedged her answer, having an inkling where Cassie was going with this conversation. “Sometimes. But I like the days when Cassie comes to the playroom better.” She caught an approving look in Clay’s eyes. So that was what this visit was all about.

  “My daughter reacted rather strongly at breakfast when she learned that today was Saturday,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “Cassie behaved even worse when she heard me tell Harriet that I was taking you sailing today. In fact, she lit into me, kicking and screaming, ‘Me, too…me, too, Papa…take me, too.’”

  Tyla couldn’t believe the change in him. His face was flushed, and he seemed years younger, carefree and outgoing. His mouth spread in a grin, and he made a helpless gesture with his hands. “So I had no choice but to bring her along.”

  Cassie’s insistence on going with him had brought a shine to his eyes that Tyla had never seen before. Obviously Cassie had manipulated him in order to see her, but Tyla wasn’t about to point that out. Anything that brought father and daughter together was a positive step. Her determination to reject any changes in plans for the day faded away. If Cassie was going to be involved, she was willing to go along with another idea.

  “I’m afraid the weather isn’t cooperating with our plans to go sailing,” she said. “The mountains are probably socked in, too.”