Читать книгу Suspicions: A Twist Of Fate / Tears Of Pride - Lisa Jackson - Страница 12

Chapter 4

Kane drove steadily toward the heart of the city, carefully maneuvering the sporty little car down the steep inclines of the hills in order to save the muffler on the roller-coasterlike grade. Through the fog the gray waters of Elliott Bay lapped lazily against the waterfront. As they crested a final hill Erin was able to see the wharf and the bustle of activity along the crowded and colorful piers.

After parking the car, Erin and Kane strolled on the boardwalk that flanked the water’s edge. Kane’s hands were pushed deep into his pockets and his gaze slid over the water. Salt spray brushed against Erin’s cheeks in a chilling embrace. Seagulls marauded the shore, calling out their lonesome cries. White, gleaming ferryboats plowed their way through the water, leaving only a frothy wake on the gray-blue waters as they disappeared into the fog.

Kane led Erin into a tiny bistro on the wharf. The warmth of the cozy restaurant was a welcome relief from the chill of the seawater and fog. They were seated at an intimate table near the window where they could watch the activities along the piers from the shelter of the bistro.

As the waiter brought the fresh seafood omelettes, Kane studied his empty coffee cup before looking into Erin’s eyes.

“I suppose that you overheard my conversation with Krista.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Part of it.”

“Why didn’t you ask me about her?”

Erin met his gaze unwaveringly and noticed the rigid line of his jaw. Was he always so tense when he thought about his child, she wondered to herself. Aloud she responded, “I didn’t want to pry.”

Kane took a deep breath and looked out over the waters. He seemed to be wrestling with a weighty decision. Finally he turned his head back toward Erin. “Krista’s handicapped.”

A startled look threatened to possess Erin’s features, but she managed to make her voice steady. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“So am I,” he groaned and threw his napkin on his empty plate.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you want to listen?” His face was a mask of indifference, as if he suddenly regretted his outward display of emotion. No, she wanted to scream. I don’t want to know anything more about you. I’m attracted to you and I’m afraid of the attraction. I can’t learn anything more about you that might bind me more tightly to you. I have to push away from you…I have to.

“Of course I’ll listen,” she murmured, quieting the voice of suspicion that nagged at her.

“Krista is eleven. She was ten when the accident occurred.” A dark, faraway look crossed his features. As he continued, his voice was flat, betraying no emotion. It was almost as if the words were part of a well-rehearsed speech, devoid of feeling or life. “She was riding in the car with her mother, my ex-wife. They were going to some ‘retreat’ or ‘support group’ meeting for the weekend. I really don’t know much about it except it was the latest self-improvement seminar to be offered. Jana, my ex-wife, was forever following the latest self-improvement craze. It was one encounter group after another. Maybe I’m in part to blame for that too.”

Kane shook his head, as if clearing out unpleasant memories. Erin waited in silence as he continued.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter what new kick she was on. It just so happened that she had called and told me where she was going. I was angry. I didn’t think that Krista needed to be exposed to all of that pseudopsychiatric garbage, and I told her so. We got into a helluva fight and she hung up on me. Two hours later I got a phone call from the police telling me that Jana was dead and Krista was in the hospital. To make a long story short, Krista’s been in and out of the hospital ever since. She’s still unable to walk unassisted.”

“She’s paralyzed?” Erin asked cautiously.

“Not exactly.” Kane’s eyes clouded for a minute. “It seems that she was lucky—nothing was actually broken in the accident. Jana was thrown out of the car and killed instantly, but Krista remained in the car, and other than a few cuts and bruises and a sprained left wrist, the doctors can find nothing physically wrong with her.”

“But…”

“I know.” Kane nodded his head. “It seems as if the cause of her paralysis is mental.”

“I don’t understand.” Erin’s brows knit in concern. What was Kane actually saying?

“I don’t either. But what I can gather from the doctors is that she blames herself, or perhaps me, for the accident.”

“No! That’s not fair!”

Kane shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? Maybe if Jana and I hadn’t fought, she would be alive today. Maybe the argument was the catalyst for her reckless driving.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Erin argued.

“Then who can I blame?”

“No one. It was just an unfortunate accident…”

“Try explaining that to a ten-year-old girl who has just lost her mother.”

“Oh, Kane,” Erin sighed, and reached for his hand.

Her hand was warm and comforting, and for a moment Kane forgot that he suspected Erin O’Toole of thievery. What was it about her that had made him open up to her and tell her the story of Krista’s paralysis? Why was it so necessary that she know about him, that she care?

The waiter came to remove the dishes and bring the check. Kane helped Erin out of her chair and smiled disarmingly down on her. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t meant to bore you with my problems.”

“You didn’t bore me,” Erin admitted.

“Well, let’s push all those black thoughts aside for the day, shall we?” he asked, and took her hand powerfully in his. “I’m sure that when Krista gets up here and settles in, she’ll be fine.” Convincing as his words were, he didn’t seem to believe them himself.

It was nearly afternoon, and they hurried down the boardwalk to catch the Blake Island ferry to visit the Tillicum Indian Village. Once on the island, they were entertained by the folklore and art objects of the native inhabitants. Erin was fascinated by the blending of the modern and ancient cultures. The fog had lifted and the day was cool, but pleasant.

They spent the day hiking over the island and watching the everyday rituals of life in a tribal Indian village. Late in the evening Erin and Kane, along with the other tourists, were guests of the tribe and feasted on Indian baked salmon cooked in hot coals, as they had been for centuries. As twilight descended, the torches were lit, and Kane wrapped his arms possessively around Erin’s waist. They sat on the hand-carved stone steps of the amphitheater and watched the colorful display of folk culture as enacted by the inhabitants of the island. In the flickering light of the stars and the torches, Kane’s features looked stronger, more masculine. The scent of his cologne wafted over Erin, and involuntarily she pressed closer to him.

Darkness covered the island as the entertainment faded. Erin and Kane made their way back to the waiting ferry. The warm lights inside the vessel winked at them, but Kane led Erin onto the deck. The wind had become stronger, sending a salty spray into their faces as they stood on the deck of the boat and watched the sparkling lights of Seattle call to them across the narrow stretch of water.

Kane held Erin tightly, the power and warmth of his body molding to hers. During the day all of her defenses had melted. Ever since he had opened up to her and explained about his daughter, she had felt a kinship and warmth toward him. And the doubts that she had experienced were withering.

He stood behind her with the strength of his arms wrapped securely over her waist. They were silent as they watched the distance and felt the giant boat move through the black water. The engine of the large vessel whirred noisily and rhythmically and the darkened waters churned white as the ferry headed inland.

A light drizzle had begun, but Erin didn’t move, afraid to break the spell of the evening. Although the September nip in the air was cool, Erin was warm, pressed firmly against the heat of Kane’s body. It was as if they had made an unspoken pact that neither wanted to violate by speaking.

The drizzle increased into raindrops, and even the hardiest of the tourists shuffled into the interior of the ferry. Erin and Kane remained outside alone, content to feel the salty breeze against their faces and the heated promise of each other’s body. Kane nuzzled the back of her neck, letting the wind whip her hair over his face. She could feel her skin become alive with his touch, her blood begin to warm with his caress. Unconsciously she leaned closer to him.

He murmured her name, seeming to give it a special and intimate quality as it caught on the wind. She pivoted to face him and he cupped her chin in his hand before pressing the moist tenderness of his lips firmly over hers. She parted her lips involuntarily, letting his tongue trace a silken path over her mouth tentatively before slowly and sensuously exploring the moist recess and enticing her to do the same. He wrapped himself more closely around her as his tongue stroked and danced with hers.

The rain came down in silvery droplets, sliding over Kane’s face and past Erin’s cheek to her throat and finally to hide below the collar of her blouse. Kane’s kiss deepened and his hand moved gently but persistently against her back. His lips roved over her face and neck, kissing and licking the drops of rain from her eyes, cheeks and throat. An urgent moan escaped from his lips, and he finally pulled his face away from hers. His eyes slid over her body, seeming to probe every inch of her being. They had darkened to misty gray, and a pulsating passion was blazing in their dark depths.

A raindrop passed over Erin’s neck, and Kane stooped to kiss it away, his lips brushing over the hollow of her throat. She shuddered, more from his delicate kiss than from the cool night air. Her knees buckled and he pulled her to him, but a blast from the ferry’s horn announced that they were docking. All too soon the jewellike lights of the city had blossomed into streetlamps, and the intimate water journey was over.

They walked back to the car in silence, each absorbed in private thoughts. Erin wondered how she could possibly work for a man she needed so passionately as a woman. And what about his daughter, who blamed him for his wife’s death? And Mitch—could she bring up the subject of Mitch’s dismissal with Kane, or would it be the wedge that would come between them? For, as unlikely as it seemed, Erin was unwittingly beginning to look upon herself and Kane as a man and woman with a deep understanding of each other. But that’s crazy, the realistic side of her mind argued. You don’t even know the man.

And Kane wondered about Erin. Could this enigmatic and beautiful woman really be a viable suspect in the embezzling scheme? She seemed so…innocent, if that was the right word. It was so easy to talk with her; he had already confided in her concerning Krista. That was probably a mistake, he thought now. But for the moment he didn’t want to believe anything about Erin other than what he felt. She was bewitching and he meant to find out all he could about her—tomorrow. Tonight he just didn’t give a damn whether she was embezzling or not.

The black sports car whipped through the quiet streets, sending sprays of water as its tires slashed pools of standing water. The windshield wipers moved in tempo, pushing the raindrops off the glass. Night closed in on Erin as the black interior of the car seemed to melt into the darkness of the evening.

Erin’s senses were heightened. In the warmth of the enclosed sports car, she could smell the tangy scent of Kane’s cologne and the masculine essence of his rain-drenched body. For the entire short ride Erin was aware of the man next to her. As he shifted gears, she could see the long hard lines of his fingers and the athletic slant of his legs straining against the fabric of his pants. She had trouble concentrating on anything other than his potent masculinity.

As they approached the apartment house, he killed the engine and sat motionless, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. He glanced toward the windows of Erin’s third-floor apartment.

Erin cleared her throat. “Would you like to come in? For a drink—or a cup of coffee?”

He rotated to face her, and even in the darkness she imagined flames of smoldering passion burning in his eyes. “I’d like it very much.”

He opened the door for her and they walked up the long staircase noiselessly. Although they didn’t touch, Erin felt a bond between them bridging the inches of open air that separated their bodies. She licked her arid lips as she reached into her purse for her keys. Many emotions had come and gone since he had hurried her out of the apartment this morning. God, was it only twelve hours ago? Erin had hesitated only slightly when she thought about asking him up to her apartment. She knew how precarious it was for her to be alone with him, but she couldn’t resist extending the invitation and the evening. Mrs. Cavenaugh had been right; she had hidden herself away from the world of men for much too long.

Her fingers shook as she tried to unlock the door, and Kane took the keys from her hand. He escorted her through the doorway and into the small apartment. Erin went through the motions of taking off her jacket, but her mind was on Kane and the intimacy of the apartment. There was no place to hide. “Could—I offer you a drink?”

He took off his jacket and let it fall casually across the arm of the couch. “Sure.”

Erin moved into the kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet, but her thoughts didn’t leave Kane. Although he was in the living room, the air was charged with electricity and anticipation. It was difficult to think, to move. Why had she asked him up to her loft, and why had he accepted?

She managed to put together some Irish coffee, and the cups were steaming as she carried them into the living room. Kane was standing at the window, looking into the night as if he could penetrate the darkness. His shirt was moist and clung to his body, and the ripple of his muscles was evident through the fabric.

When she entered the room, he turned to face her. His face was ragged, torn with emotion, and she knew that he was as tense as she. “Anything wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he whispered, but the besieged look on his face didn’t disappear. “Thanks,” he said with a tight-lipped smile and sampled the hot drink.

“There is something wrong,” she challenged. “I can feel it. It’s something about me, isn’t it?”

“You’re imagining things,” he retorted, and took a long swallow of his drink.

“No…I’m not. It all started yesterday, at the office.”

His gray eyes bored into her, daring her to continue. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think that you do. You were angry that I was at the office—don’t deny it. And all of those ridiculous questions about Mitch. It has something to do with him, doesn’t it?”

“Why don’t you tell me,” he suggested huskily. “What do you know about Mitchell Cameron?”

“Nothing—except that you fired him, and I don’t know why!”

He set his cup down on the table and strode quietly over to where she was standing. His voice was barely audible, but he pinned her with his gaze. “You can’t even hazard a guess?” he coaxed.

“No!”

“Why don’t you try?” His fingers reached upward and found the nape of her neck. He lifted her hair from her shoulders and clasped both of his hands gently around her neck, massaging her shoulders through the light rain-washed fabric of her blouse.

“I have no idea. I only know that the legal department wasn’t profitable…” His gray eyes snapped.

“Is that it? Would you let him go because of one bad year?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how you work…”

“Sure you do,” he suggested smoothly, and Erin felt that she had known him all of her life.

“Aren’t you going to finish your drink?” she asked, not able to concentrate on anything other than the warm enticement of his hands. His thumbs traced lazy patterns of seduction along her throat, gently persuading her mind to think of nothing other than his overpowering maleness.

His eyes looked over at the half-full cup of Irish coffee. “Is that my cue to leave?”

Erin braced herself, trying to ignore the dizzying sensations that seemed to build up from within her and explode at his touch. “It’s…it’s getting late.”

“And you’d like to go to bed?” he cajoled, his dark eyes alive.

“I…you…we have to work in the morning,” she stammered, her senses reeling from his closeness.

“That we do,” he agreed.

Erin’s pulse was beginning to dance wildly as Kane’s hands coaxed her to newer heights of sensuality. She could feel his breath, smell his clean masculine scent, and she knew that he was going to kiss her.

His arms moved to her waist and coiled possessively around her as his mouth brushed velvet-soft kisses down her cheek and throat. Her head fell backward, and he rained kisses up and down the length of her exposed neck. Erin’s chest grew tight, and her breath began to whisper in short, shaky breaths.

His hands toyed at the hem of her blouse, at first tentatively, and finally with determination as he tugged the blouse out of the waistband of her slacks. His fingers explored the soft, supple muscles of her back, warming her skin to a rosy glow. Her knees began to give way, and he caught her, pushing his lips over hers in silent union. She moaned, and at the invitation of her parted lips, his tongue found hers, flicking and dancing with moist sparks of unfettered passion.

Moving steadily upward, his hands inched up her spine in a delicious spiraling motion. Her skin heated and caught fire. All her nerve endings ignited in hot boiling passion. His fingertips slowly and sensuously moved forward until he was kneading the tight muscles of her abdomen.

Her breasts ached against the confinement of her bra, and when at last his fingertips played with the lacy garment, she sighed. He pushed her gently and persuasively to the floor, and she felt the cool floorboards press against her fevered flesh. Slowly he let his hands slide to the buttons of her blouse, slipping each button easily through the buttonholes. As the blouse parted he unleashed her breasts from the lacy bra. “God, but you’re beautiful,” he moaned, looking directly at the full white curves of her soft breasts.

She felt her fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. When at last it was opened, and the expanse of golden bronze skin was visible, she moaned with pure animal pleasure. “So are you,” she said huskily, watching his firm muscles flex under her admiring gaze.

His thumbs idled over her nipples as he fondled her breasts. Masterfully, he enticed her nipples to erection, and a smile of triumph lighted his eyes as he noticed them harden. He looked once into her eyes, the smoky gray of his gaze blending into the lilac-blue passion of hers.

It was as if she were drugged; all she could concentrate on was taking and giving pleasure. Her female body was overshadowing her mind. As Kane loved her, explored her, exulted in her, she, too, took satisfaction from touching and enticing him. Body was controlling mind in the sweet dreamlike mist of lovemaking.

They rolled together on the floor, and he rained kisses upon her face, her neck, her breasts. His tongue licked paths of fire over her body and kindled an aching need in her innermost core.

Endearingly his mouth descended on her breasts, and he suckled as if a babe, kneading the sensitive tissue with his hands as his lips lured love from her nipples. His body was upon hers and she felt the bittersweet pain of his weight over her. The cold floorboards touched her back, and his warm, naked torso inflamed her soul, causing boiling currents of lava to course through her veins.

“Oh, Erin,” he called against her, and her pounding heart was triggered to a more passionate rhythm. He tore himself away from her and saw the disappointment in her eyes.

“I want to go to bed with you,” he breathed, “and I want to make love to you.”

“Are…are you asking me?” she gasped, drawing much needed air into her lungs.

“I’ve been asking you all night.” He levered himself over her and leaned on one elbow while one hand still massaged her breasts.

“I want to…” she murmured, closing her eyes and trying to think rationally. Would the ache subside? Would she really be able to make love to him? Would she be able to stop?

“But…” he prodded, his breath ghosting over her hair.

“But…” She breathed heavily. “But…I’m afraid.”

“Of what? Me?”

“No…”

“Then it must be that you’re afraid of your husband,” he guessed.

“Lee? How did you know about him?”

“A small surname discrepancy in your personnel file.”

“Oh,” she murmured, pulling her blouse over her breasts. Suddenly she felt conspicuously naked.

“He is the problem, isn’t he,” Kane asked gently, but there was a cold and calculating edge to his voice.

“No…Lee has nothing to do with us,” she managed, but her mercurial temperature had cooled.

“You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?” His eyes regarded her gently, and he pulled her closer to his body and rocked her.

“No…you’re wrong. You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not in love with Lee. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really was.” His eyes followed hers to look out the window. “Oh, I thought I loved him, once, but some of the things that he did…that he said…” She still couldn’t talk about it without getting a catch in her throat.

“Erin, honey. It’s been a long time, and still he affects you. Are you sure that you’re not still emotionally involved with him?”

Tears began to flow from her eyes, and he brushed them away. She tried to look away from him, but he forced her head in his direction, softly cupping her chin in his fingers. His movements were gentle, but his thoughts were grim. Lee Sinclair, whoever the hell he was, had scarred Erin, and Kane meant to know all about him.

“Have you seen him recently?”

“No…he moved to Spokane about a year ago.” For some reason Erin couldn’t tell Kane about the phone calls and the fact that Lee was back in Seattle.

Kane continued to rock her in silence, only the thin line of his lips belying his calm and comforting actions. Slowly Erin composed herself. She wondered how she had ever let things get so out of hand. She felt an embarrassed burn on her cheeks as she realized that she was sitting half-naked on the floor of her apartment with her new boss, weeping like a teenager, nearly jumping into bed with him. It was frightening and confusing, completely out of character.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, managing a feeble smile. “I really don’t know why I fell apart.”

“It’s all right. Here.” He pulled the afghan from the couch and wrapped her in its rainbow-colored tiered folds. “Are you sure that you’re okay?” She nodded, and he rose from the floor, pulling her with him. “Why don’t you go in and get in bed? I’ll bring you some tea.”

“No! Oh, no…I’m fine, honestly.” She was embarrassed by her emotional outburst, and the last thing she wanted was that her boss should wait on her. She hiked the awkward blanket over her shoulders, but it seemed determined to slide to the floor.

“You’re sure?” he asked, cocking a suspicious eyebrow in her direction and buttoning his shirt.

“I’m sure.” Her voice was still husky, but the firm quality and tone that he recognized as control were back in her words.

She could tell that he was reluctant to leave, but after a final kiss to her forehead, and his hastily scribbled hotel phone number, he left her alone.

After he closed the door, she listened to the sound of his shoes clicking down the steps. Silently she counted them. Finally she heard the front door open and close with a thud. A sporty engine roared to life and faded into the night. Erin felt more alone than she had in years.