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
