or the play of light on his gold-streaked chestnut hair. Or maybe it was the seductive way his mouth curved, or his bronzed chest as it peeked out from beneath his shirt. Whatever the reason, she felt her temper cool as she watched him. Her heart was torn and she ached to understand the man whom she loved so urgently.
Why, she wondered, did she feel that he was holding something back from her? Why did there always seem to be a dark, unasked question in his eyes? Was he like she was, insecure about a commitment to a fellow employee? Was it possible that he had a girlfriend, or perhaps a fiancée, waiting for him in California? Or was it a brooding concern for his daughter that made him seem so remote at times? How could she love a man so desperately and still feel that he wasn’t being completely honest with her?
She finished her meal, excused herself and began brewing some coffee in the kitchen. Despite the uncomfortable conversation, Kane ate hungrily and Erin was pleased. What was it about preparing a meal for the man she loved that made her feel so satisfied? Some age-old maternal instinct, she supposed and smiled to herself. She had experienced the same satisfied sensation with Lee in the first few months of her marriage. It hadn’t lasted long! she reminded herself.
At a time like this why would she remember her ex-husband and the few good times that they had shared? She tried to dispel her mood of melancholy remembrance by pouring the coffee and carrying it into the living room.
Kane had risen from the table and was standing at the window, staring out across the darkened Puget Sound. From his position, he could see the jeweled lights of Seattle winking on the quiet black waters. A deep blanket of fog was beginning to roll into the sound.
“Even at night this is a spectacular view of the city,” he thought aloud, accepting the coffee that Erin offered. She, too, looked into the misty night.
“That’s one of the reasons that I had to have this place,” she agreed, and then laughed. “Along with a very long list of other things.”
“Such as?”
“The charm of this old house. Everything about it speaks of a different time, a more romantic period in history.” She ran a caressing finger across the cool wood of the windowsill. “The craftsmanship is exquisitely ornate, and I doubt that it could be duplicated today. This house was built with love. Look at the woodwork, the carved stairs, the beveled windows, everything! Even the builder who separated it into apartments and added all the modern conveniences took enough care to keep the flavor and the grandeur of the house in mind. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it,” she admitted, and was surprised at how easily she had opened up to Kane about her feelings for the old mansion.
“Didn’t anyone warn you about the expensive upkeep of such an old building?” he asked cautiously as he sat down on the couch. She took a seat next to him and shook her head thoughtfully.
“Everyone I knew tried to talk me out of it. Even my parents, who live on the East Coast, flew out here to try and dissuade me. They all told me that I was throwing money away. How does the expression go? ‘Good money after bad’? They swore that the upkeep of the place would ruin me financially.” She shrugged her slim shoulders and looked out the window again. “But the more people tried to talk me out of it, the more I absolutely had to have it!”
“Watch out,” he cautioned with a smile. “Your rebellious side is beginning to show.”
“Is it?” she asked, turning her attention back to him. She had considered herself many things, but never rebellious.
“That dark, private side of you that I told you about yesterday. It’s surfacing,” he suggested.
Once again the conversation was becoming too intimate for Erin. She was beginning to feel claustrophobic, as if he were closing in on her. Something made her draw away; she tried to change the subject. “In any event I bought this place and haven’t lived to regret it yet.”
“And were all those people who gave you advice correct?”
“What do you mean?”
He took a long, experimental sip of his coffee and studied her intently. “I mean, has this house become a financial burden to you?”
Erin swallowed before answering. Just how much did she want him to know about her, and how much did he already guess? “It hasn’t been easy,” she admitted reluctantly.
“Tenant problems?”
She shook her head negatively. “Not really. Most of the people who rent here have been with me for years, and they are very nice people who take pride in their homes. Once in a while I have a vacancy problem, but the primary difficulty with this place is the repairs. You see, I’m not exactly handy with a hammer or a saw.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” he teased and lightly touched her shoulder. “You have talents in other fields.” His whispered words were tender and comforting, and she felt that she had known him all her life. His fingers touched her hair. He felt himself drawn to the ebony sheen of her curls. They were as black and inviting as the night itself. He caught himself and struggled to maintain his objectivity where Erin was concerned, but found it difficult to put his feelings for her in their proper perspective. She had lied to him and he knew it. Whether she admitted it or not, Lee Sinclair was back in Seattle. Kane felt that he had to press Erin tonight, before he became all the more entangled in her mysterious womanly charms. He couldn’t let himself forget that it was imperative that he understand what devious thoughts were being spun in that regal head of hers.
“What about your ex-husband?” Kane prodded.
“Lee?” she asked, perplexed. “What does Lee have to do with anything?” Nervously she pushed an errant strand of hair back in place. Why did Kane continue to bring up the subject of a man whom Erin would rather forget?
“What did he have to say about this place and your purchasing it?”
“He couldn’t say much. We were divorced at the time,” she responded with a finality that she hoped would effectively close the subject. But still he persisted.
“Tell me about the divorce,” he coaxed.
“Why?”
A smile toyed with the corners of his mouth. “Because I want to know all about you….” he suggested silkily.
“I don’t like to talk about Lee.”
“Why?”
“Are you interrogating me again?” she asked, promptly regretting the acidity in her words. She got up from the couch and shrugged her shoulders. “It bothers me…to talk about Lee.”
“Did he hurt you so badly?” he asked, his voice gentle.
Her eyes glazed over with the shame that she had borne. How could she explain the embarrassment of Lee’s affair and the messy divorce? “Yes,” she whispered, “I suppose that he did hurt me, but only because I let him.”
“By loving him too much?” he asked severely.
“No, by being so young and naive. At the time I thought that all marriages were made in heaven, and I didn’t think that I would fail, or that he would use me….” She found that she was trembling. The cup of coffee shook in her fingers, and she was forced to set it on the bookcase in order to hide her reaction from Kane.
“There
