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 the 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’d 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.

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 hallway. 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.

“When it comes to providing gritty and sexy stories, Ms. Jackson certainly knows how to deliver.”

—Romantic Times

Also available from MIRA Books and LISA JACKSON

MYSTIC

A Twist of Fate
Lisa Jackson

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

One

The telephone receiver was slammed back into its cradle with such force that the paperweight sitting next to the phone slipped off the desk. Two framed pictures of a round-eyed, blond-haired girl rattled and then dropped onto the corner of the desk. The tall man who had slammed the telephone so violently righted the portraits with care, clasped his hands behind his back and resumed his pacing. Would it ever be possible to communicate with Krista again, he wondered. His shoulders were slightly slumped, and there was a pained darkness just beneath the anger in his eyes. He swore an oath, aimed for the most part at himself, and continued pacing in front of the wide plate-glass window.

For a moment he paused to look out the window and try and control his rage. A fading California sun was dispersing the final rays of daylight inland as it settled peacefully into the tranquil Pacific Ocean. Long lavender shadows had begun to deepen against the white sand of the beach, and the first cool hint of autumn hung crisply on the air. Kane closed his eyes tightly, as if to shut out the serene view. Turbulent emotions stormed through his body. He kept telling himself that he couldn’t change the past, that he couldn’t blame a dead woman for his daughter’s condition, and yet he did.

A solid rap on the door interrupted his black thoughts, and automatically Kane called out a terse acknowledgment. A moment later Jim Haney marched through the door carrying an ungainly sheaf of papers and a long manila envelope. Jim’s tired face held a genuine smile, although he also noted the severe lines of stress that contorted Kane’s body. Kane’s normally impeccable wool suit was wrinkled and his expensive silk tie askew. Harsh creases webbed from the corners of Kane’s deep-set gray eyes and there was a cold, hard determination in the set of his jaw. It wasn’t hard for Jim to surmise the reason for Kane’s obvious annoyance. Jim knew Kane well enough to recognize that Kane was angry and concerned over his eleven-year-old daughter. The guilt that Kane bore silently was beginning to show. Kane needed to think about something else—anything else—and Jim hoped that he had found the solution to Kane’s studious disinterest in anything other than the near-fatal accident that had left his daughter disabled.

Jim’s smile remained intact as he met Kane’s annoyed gaze. “I guess this about wraps it up,” Jim announced, fanning the air with a smooth sheaf of computer printouts. Kane’s cool eyes followed the green and white pages with only feeble interest while Jim continued. “The Seattle sale—it’s final—and all of the loose ends are tied up…except for one.”

“So quickly?” Kane asked skeptically as he settled into the worn leather chair behind his desk and began scanning the printout.

“For once it looks like we may have gotten lucky.”

“Good!” There was a note of finality to Kane’s words. He looked up at Jim with a grim smile. “Then there’s really no reason for me to wait, is there?”

Jim coughed nervously before meeting Kane’s unwavering gray stare. “Are you sure that you’re making the right decision?”

Involuntarily a muscle in Kane’s jaw tightened. “Let’s just say that I’m making the only decision possible.”

“But to just pack up and leave all of this…” Jim’s voice trailed off as he waved expansively. The gesture encompassed the entire gray concrete office building of Consolidated Finances, the understated but costly furnishings and the calm ocean view.

Kane’s eyes swept the office, noting the leather furniture, the thick plush carpet, the book-lined cherry-wood walls, and then fell back on his friend. “Think of it as a prolonged leave of absence, if you like.”

“Then you will be back?” Jim asked guardedly.

“When I have to be,” Kane agreed, with an expression of distaste. “No doubt the board of directors will insist that I come back and oversee the operation from time to time.” Kane returned his attention to the computer sheets before him. Quickly shuffling through the smooth, flat pages, he located the report that he sought. A dark furrow etched its way across his forehead as he reread the printout. “Still losing money in the legal department?” he asked, almost to himself. “I thought that we had cleared up that embezzling scam last week and had gotten rid of Cameron—or whatever his name was. Didn’t we?” He turned his sharp eyes on Jim.

“That’s the one loose end that’s still dangling. It looks as if Cameron has an accomplice.”

“What?”

“I had a hunch from the beginning that someone was working with him, but I couldn’t prove it until I made sure that Cameron was out of commission. I’m not sure who the culprit is—haven’t been able to dig up any tangible proof—but I’ve narrowed it down to a few possibilities.” Jim handed Kane the manila envelope. “Here’s some personnel information on some of the suspects.”

Kane reached for the envelope. “Well, whoever he is, he must be a damned fool! You would think that with all of the hubbub about Cameron, anyone else involved would be busy covering his tracks rather than taking any further risks. This guy must get his kicks by flirting with danger.”

“It may not be a man,” Jim suggested.

Kane cocked an interested black eyebrow. “A woman?” A satisfied, almost wicked smile crept over his lips.

“Like I said before, I’m not sure, but it looks as if Cameron has always been…fond of the ladies. He’s had a reputation for promoting women.”

“Whether they’re qualified or not?”

Jim shrugged. He didn’t like the glint of inquisitive interest that had stolen over Kane’s features. “I haven’t had Cameron arrested as yet, but he’s being watched. Hopefully his colleague will surface soon.”

“So you’re telling me that Cameron is still on the payroll and that although you’re sure he hasn’t taken any more funds, someone near to him has.” Kane Webster was beginning to show his anger.

Jim squirmed only slightly as he went on to explain. “That’s about the size of it. We’re watching Cameron round the clock, night and day. We know that he hasn’t pocketed the funds himself, because we’ve kept him tied up with auditors and the like ever since it became apparent that he was embezzling trust funds. So far he hasn’t become suspicious.”

Kane wasn’t convinced. “And his friend?”

“Somehow she’s still manipulating the accounts and taking money.” Jim shook his head and grimaced. “I haven’t been able to trace it to her as yet. She’s very clever.”

Kane sat thoughtfully in his chair and pulled out the personnel files that Jim had handed him. He didn’t doubt Jim’s assumption that Cameron had a woman accomplice. He’d worked with Jim too many years not to respect the younger man’s opinion. Jim’s suspicions had always paid off in the end for Consolidated Finances.

The names on the personnel reports meant nothing to Kane, and at first glance, all of the files seemed to hold nothing out of the ordinary. “You’re sure that the thief is one of these people?”

Jim nodded his head in affirmation. “No one else has the authority to move bank funds so freely.”

“But couldn’t someone else forge a superior’s order?”

“I thought about that too. I had it checked out, but the auditing system of the bank is too complete. No, our misguided embezzler is sitting right there in that envelope. All we have to do is figure out who she is.”

Kane puzzled over Jim’s recent discoveries in what had appeared to be a sleepy little Seattle bank. His eyes narrowed as he thought about the trap that he would set for Cameron and his accomplice. The fact that it was a woman interested Kane. He had learned several years ago that women could be a devious lot, and it only reinforced his bitter opinion of the opposite sex to learn of the female embezzler.

Jim Haney watched the play of emotions that traversed Kane’s dark features. He had worked with Kane for over ten years and had come to know his boss as well as anyone. Kane was a fair employer, but Jim knew from past experience that Kane could be ruthless if crossed. Right now, as Kane’s lips thinned, Jim was thankful that his name wasn’t Mitchell Cameron. And he couldn’t help but feel pity for the unfortunate woman who had gotten tangled up with Cameron. Jim had his own opinion about the accomplice’s identity, and he had met the woman. It was damned hard to believe that such an intelligent, sophisticated woman would be involved with the likes of Cameron. Oh, well—that was Kane’s problem. “Did you want me to have the police go to work on Cameron?” he asked.

“No.” Kane shook his head, still immersed in his thoughts. “I’ll see to it personally. I’m leaving for Seattle tonight.” A satisfied grin moved over Kane’s features.

“You’re really going to enjoy throwing the book at Cameron, aren’t you?”

“And the woman! I don’t like any thief—especially when she’s got her hands in my pockets!” Kane retorted. “This just gives me one more reason to head north as soon as possible.”

“That’s something I don’t understand at all,” Jim admitted. “Why you bought that miserable excuse of a bank—it’s been losing money for years—just so you can freeze your tail off in Seattle.”

“California lost its sparkle for me quite a while ago,” Kane muttered tersely, then softened his tone as he caught the wounded look in Jim’s eyes. “You know of course about Krista. The doctor thinks a change of climate would be good for her. As soon as I have a permanent residence, I’ll send for her.”

A personal question died on Jim’s lips as he noticed the sober tone of Kane’s final words. He hadn’t gotten to be vice-president of Consolidated Finances by asking questions that were none of his business. He’d heard the rumors associated with Kane: a glamorous ex-wife, a sticky divorce and an unfortunate accident. But Jim had never pried. He was too interested in self-preservation to open doors that Kane preferred locked.

Kane pushed the manila envelope into his briefcase along with a small portrait of his daughter. He paused for a minute and looked at the eager young face before tucking the picture into a side pocket in the leather case. That accomplished, he snapped the briefcase closed.

“The moving company will take care of the rest of this litter,” Kane observed, looking around his office for one last time. “If you need to get in touch with me, Carla has the number of my hotel in Seattle.”

“Good luck,” Jim said, clasping Kane’s hand warmly.

“Let’s hope I don’t have to rely on luck!” With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Kane walked out of his office for the last time.

The early-model Volkswagen Rabbit skidded to an abrupt halt, splashing dirty rainwater from the street up onto the sidewalk. The driver of the little yellow car was a slim, striking woman who pulled the emergency brake, slung her purse over her shoulder and slammed the car door shut without taking the time to lock it. She hastened through the damp September evening toward the cozy Irish bar.

There was a determined and slightly mysterious gleam in her large eyes as she hiked her raincoat up and clutched the collar tightly to her throat. Sidestepping a puddle of water as if it were second nature, she pushed her way through the stained-glass door of the restaurant.

The familiar interior was dark, but Erin’s eyes became quickly accustomed to the dim lighting and the air thick with cigarette smoke. Loud, tinny music was coming from a rather bedraggled-looking band reminiscent of the late fifties.

Unconsciously Erin wiped away a few drops of rain that still lingered on her cheeks, while she moved her gaze over the Friday night throng of customers that was heralding the beginning of what promised to be another rainy Seattle weekend.

Appreciative glances and admiring smiles followed her movements, but she ignored everyone other than the distinguished man of about fifty sitting before the polished bottles and the mirrored backdrop of the bar. Erin’s eyes met his in the reflection, and for a moment a dark, guarded look crossed over his distracted blue eyes. Finally he smiled tightly and motioned for her to take the vacant stool at his side.

“Mitch,” Erin sighed almost gratefully. “What on earth are you doing here?”

He hesitated, and in that instant, any warmth in his eyes faded. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Olivia Parsons thought you might be here,” Erin replied. Her smile disappeared at the thought of the leggy brunette.

“Oh, I see. Dear old Livvie,” Mitch mumbled sarcastically. “Your friend and mine! Here’s to friendship.” He waved his glass theatrically in the air and signaled to the bartender for another drink. “What can I get you, Erin?”

“Nothing,” Erin whispered, trying to keep the conversation as quiet as possible and yet be heard over the din of the band.

“Nothing?” he echoed, mimicking her. “Not going to join me for old times’ sake?”

“What are you talking about and why are you here?” she asked, confused by his cynical attitude. Where was the kind man with the soft voice and the dry sense of humor whom she had known for over eight years? Mitch didn’t bother to answer her questions. He seemed intent on evading the issue, but she persisted. “Mitch, what are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?”

“It looks suspiciously like you’re getting smashed,” she replied honestly.

“Very astute, young lady. I always did say that you were a smart girl, Erin.” Mitch drained his old drink and reached for the new one. “Are you sure you won’t join me? The Scotch is excellent!” Erin shook her head, but Mitch accosted the bartender. “Bring the lady a glass of Chablis,” he commanded over Erin’s protests.

Erin was having trouble hiding her annoyance with her boss and his unpredictable mood swings, but she kept her temper in check and tried a more subtle approach with him. “Why did you leave the bank early today?” A glass of chilled white wine appeared on the bar before her.

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” Erin asked uneasily. There was a menacing quality about Mitch that she wasn’t accustomed to and didn’t like.

Mitch shrugged and Erin noticed that his shoulders drooped. “Why don’t you ask Kane Webster, if you’re so interested.”

“Webster? The new president of the bank? What does he have to do with the fact that you left the office and your clients in order to promote a hangover?” she inquired. Mitch had changed dramatically in the last several months. His behavior had become erratic, almost secretive, and his work had suffered. However, until today Erin had never had to cover for him with a client or track him down in some bar. Erin counted Mitch as one of the few close friends she had in the world, and it pained her to witness his deterioration.

She couldn’t forget that Mitch had helped her through an agonizing period in her life by offering her a challenging job and a chance to bury herself in her work. He had encouraged her to do postgraduate work in law and keep busy in order to forget about Lee and the embarrassment and heartache she had suffered while she was married to him. Mitch had helped Erin realize that when Lee had left her eight years before, it hadn’t been the end of the world. When she had needed a friend, Mitchell Cameron had been there. And now, if Mitch had a problem, Erin vowed to return the favor.

“Mrs. Anderson was in today,” Erin stated, and took the glass of wine from the bar. “She was very disappointed that you weren’t able to meet with her yourself. Somehow she didn’t really think that I was a suitable replacement for the head of the legal department, and I can’t say that I blame her. I certainly wasn’t very knowledgeable about her grandfather’s will or the estate…”

“That’s her problem,” Mitch stated blandly and again focused his attention on the bottom of his glass.

“It’s not Mrs. Anderson’s problem,” Erin corrected.

“Well, it certainly isn’t mine!”

“But the bank…”

“To hell with the bank” Mitch spat out and slammed his glass on the polished counter. Several of the patrons close by turned interested eyes on Erin and Mitch. Erin felt herself shrink. The last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene.

“I don’t understand what’s gotten into you lately,” Erin began in a low whisper. “And I don’t know what Kane Webster has to do with you coming down here to drown your sorrows, but if there’s anything I can do—or if there’s something you want to talk about…”

“I don’t want to talk about anything! You’re the one who came looking for me,” he reminded her crossly. “I didn’t invite you!”

“I was worried about you.”

“Well, don’t worry over me. I can take care of myself!” Mitch’s voice was bitter.

“Mitch, what in the world is going on?” she asked. Erin was stung by his acrid words, but compassion held back the sharp retort that had entered her mind as she watched Mitch order another drink. It was apparent that something was eating him, and because of the kindness he had shown her in the past, she held her tongue. She reached for his sleeve and in a quieter voice asked, “Won’t you please tell me what’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” The word ricocheted back at her followed by Mitch’s mirthless laugh. “What could possibly be wrong?” His blue eyes glittered like ice. “Unless, of course, you think that being fired from a bank that you’ve given twenty years of your life to is a problem.”

The meaning of his words struck her like an arctic blast. “Fired? Webster fired you? But why?”

“Like I said, ask him—if you’ve still got a job. Who knows, you could be next!”

“But he hasn’t even come up from California yet.”

“Oh, he’s here all right, and mark my words, all of the employees at First Puget—oh, excuse me—Consolidated First Bank better be ready!” he pointed out sarcastically.

Erin sat for a moment in numbed silence. The thought of Mitch being fired was absurd, ludicrous. Mitch had been prominent in building the legal department of First Puget to one of the most prestigious in the city. It was true that for the first time in over a decade the legal department had lost money, but certainly the new president wouldn’t hold Mitch solely responsible, would he? Nothing made any sense to her anymore. Mitch caught the look of confusion and pity in her eyes. His attitude softened momentarily.

“Look, Erin. Don’t waste your sympathy on me. And it’s really not a good idea for you to be seen with me. Believe me, it would be in your best interests to just leave me alone.”

“You look like you could use a friend,” Erin suggested.

“What I need now is a good attorney, not a friend.”

“But you are an attorney,” Erin replied, still completely perplexed.

Mitch looked her squarely in the eyes. “I’m a lawyer, yes, but I specialize in civil law. What I need now is a criminal lawyer.”

“I don’t understand….”

“You don’t have to,” Mitch answered abruptly and stood up. “I told you before, I don’t need your sympathy or any of your self-righteous friendship!” He turned his back on Erin, fumbled in his pocket for a moment and threw a wad of crumpled bills onto the bar. “See ya around,” he called over his shoulder, but Erin didn’t think he directed his words at her.

“Mitch…wait,” she began, but his long uneven strides carried him out of the door and into the night. As she watched him leave she was still recovering from the shock of his dismissal. Why would he have been fired? It was hard to believe that she wouldn’t see him on Monday morning, sitting behind his large oak desk, puffing on a slim cigar and perusing The Wall Street Journal.

“Looks like you’ve been stranded,” a smooth male voice suggested intimately. “How about a drink with me?”

Erin turned in the direction of the voice and murmured a firm “No, thanks” to the young man with the clipped mustache. He shrugged his shoulders at her denial, as if it was her loss, and manipulated his attention to a lanky blonde sitting near the dance floor.

Erin made her way back to the car. The drizzle had turned into a downpour and the late afternoon sky had blackened. The drive home was automatic, and as the windshield wipers slapped the rain off the glass, Erin thought about Mitch and what it would be like without his presence in the bank.

She had suspected for several months that Mitch was in the throes of some personal problem. At least it had appeared that way. He had seemed tired and worried—no, more than that—tense, tightly coiled. The closer the final date for the imminent bank sale had drawn, the more tightly wound Mitch had become. Erin had told herself at the time that it was only her imagination, that all of the employees of First Puget were bound to be a little anxious about the new management. But now, as she drove through the dark, slick side streets, she chided herself for not seeing and acknowledging what had been so transparent: Mitchell Cameron was in deep trouble. Its exact nature she couldn’t guess, but it was serious enough to have cost him his job.

Without thinking, she killed the motor of the car as she pulled up in front of the Victorian apartment house. Closing her eyes and rotating her head, Erin tried to relieve the tension in her neck and shoulders. She wondered about Kane Webster. What kind of a man was he? What did she really know about the man, other than the few neatly typed memos with the bold signature that had crossed her desk?

She hadn’t heard much about his personal life. Apparently he preferred his privacy. Occasionally Erin had seen his name in print—in the financial pages. If she had read anything about him in the social pages, it usually had to do with his ex-wife, a gorgeous model who had made an unsuccessful attempt at becoming an actress. But that was several years ago, before an accident that had killed Jana and left the daughter crippled, or so it was rumored.

Erin frowned to herself as she thought about her new employer. One thing was certain: Kane Webster had made his fortune on his own, spending the last decade purchasing failing financial institutions and transforming them from operating in the red to operating in the black. He had gained a reputation in financial circles for being something of a rogue because of his unorthodox methods of operation. But if results were the measure of success, Kane Webster was prosperous. It was as if King Midas had reached out and touched the ailing banks himself.

Wearily Erin got out of the car and locked the door. She started up the short shrub-lined walk to her home and smiled at the elegant old house. It was a lovely Victorian manor, perched on a hill overlooking the city. The front porch was comfortable and trimmed in ornate gingerbread. The turn-of-the-century home had been fashioned into apartments twenty years before, and the contractor had taken care to accentuate the nineteenth-century charm of the house. Erin had fallen in love with it the first time she had laid eyes on it. Ignoring opposing arguments from just about everyone she knew, she had used her small inheritance as a down payment and purchased the building two years ago. Or to be more precise, she and First Puget Bank had purchased it; there was still a sizeable mortgage against it.

Even in the drizzle of early twilight the old manor looked warm and inviting. The white three-story building with its gently sloping roof and deep gables had a picturesque aura that was distinctly “Old Seattle.” Upon close inspection it was obvious that the house was in sad need of many repairs, but tonight Erin overlooked the chipped paint and the rusty drainpipes. She had applied for an employee loan with the bank to make the needed improvements, but she knew as well as anyone that her loan would be a very low priority to Kane Webster. With a bank that was already losing money, how could he possibly make any low-interest employee loans?

Erin’s own apartment, located on the uppermost floor of the stately house, was an attic converted into a cozy loft with a bird’s-eye view of the city. She climbed the stairs slowly, sifting through the various pieces of junk mail and complaints from her tenants. Her mind was only half on the stack of mail in her hands, when she heard the telephone ringing. Racing up the final steps, she hurriedly unlocked the door, threw the mail on the table and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” she inquired, breathless from her dash up the stairs.

“Erin, honey, it’s good to hear your voice. Where have you been? I’ve been calling for hours,” a friendly male voice said.

“Lee?” Erin asked hesitantly.

A good-natured laugh bellowed from the other end. “Hi! How’ve you been?”

“Fine, Lee,” she managed, wondering why he persisted in calling her. After the last call two weeks ago, she thought he understood that she didn’t want to see him again.

“What do you say we get together? You know, have a couple of drinks and a few laughs. I’ll come by and pick you up in a half-hour,” he suggested.

Erin was tempted. There had always been something seductive about Lee, not in the sexual sense, but in the fact that he was such an outgoing, likable kind of guy. The same qualities that made him great fun at a party made him an immature husband. Erin could almost picture Lee’s college-boy good looks—thick blond hair with just the right amount of wave and laughing blue eyes.

“I don’t think so,” she replied, trying to take a firm stand with him and failing.

“Why not? Don’t tell me you’ve got other plans?”

“No…” Erin responded, and wondered why she hadn’t lied and just gotten rid of him. After all these years and all of the heartache, why couldn’t she just slam the receiver down and end the conversation?

“Then, let’s have a night on the town…”

“I can’t, Lee. I’m sorry. I’ve got a pile of work to catch up on before Monday.”

“But it’s the weekend,” he coaxed in a honeyed voice. “You know what they say, ‘All work and no play makes Erin a dull girl.”’

Lee chuckled, but something in his words brought Erin crashing back to reality. Suddenly she remembered just how little she had in common with a boy who refused to grow up. She recalled the shame and humiliation she had suffered while playing the role of dutiful wife.

“No, Lee. That’s not what they say at all. That’s what you said eight years ago.”

“Hey, baby, that’s all water under the bridge. Come on, what would a drink hurt?”

Erin sighed audibly. “Look, Lee, I’m not in the mood. Not tonight—not ever. I thought I made that clear to you a couple of weeks ago.”

There was a pause in the conversation and Erin could almost hear the wheels turning in Lee’s mind.

“Just what is it that you want from me?” she asked.

“I told you—we could have a few laughs.”

“Why not just turn on the television and catch reruns of Gilligan’s Island,” she suggested and immediately regretted the sarcasm in her words. Nervously she began tapping her fingernails on the tabletop.

“I have to see you,” he pleaded.

“Why? It didn’t matter eight years ago. Why the sudden interest?” Erin’s voice had begun to shake. Memories began to wash over her.

“You really want to do this the hard way, don’t you?” Lee accused.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Erin sputtered, but an uneasy feeling was growing in the pit of her stomach. This wasn’t just a friendly call. He wanted money from her—again. Suddenly Erin felt a deep pang of pity for the man who was once her husband.

“Look, honey,” Lee cajoled with only a trace of uncertainty in his voice. “You know I lost the job in Spokane, and well, since I’ve been back here, my luck hasn’t been all that great. I thought that…you could loan me a few bucks, just until I get back on my feet.”

Erin swallowed hard before answering. “You haven’t paid me back from the last time that I helped you ‘get back on your feet.”’ Erin’s voice was flat. She hoped she sounded unshakable.

“Things just didn’t turn out in Spokane. You know how it is, what with the lousy economy and all. It’s just hard to get started.”

“Oh, Lee,” Erin sighed, and felt herself wavering.

He sensed the change in her voice. “I just need a few hundred to get started…”

“Spare me the sad story, Lee,” Erin interrupted. “I can’t loan you any money right now. I just don’t have it.”

“Don’t have it—or won’t lend it?” Lee asked desperately.

“I’m sorry, Lee.”

“I doubt it!”

“I don’t think that you and I have anything more to discuss. You were the one who made that decision several years ago. Good night.”

Erin hung up and noticed that her hands were trembling. Why did he always affect her this way? It was as if she was reliving those last few months before the divorce had become final all over again. Why didn’t Lee just disappear from her life completely? Was it her fault? Did he notice her hesitation and somehow construe it as an invitation? While they were married, he had wanted his freedom so desperately. And yet, since the divorce had become final, he kept showing up, trying to rekindle the dead flames. When he finally moved to Spokane, Erin had breathed a sigh of relief. She thought that finally he would make a life away from her.

That was why she had made the mistake of loaning him fifteen hundred dollars, hoping that he would establish himself in Spokane. But his plans had backfired, and he was back in Seattle. It hadn’t lasted six months.

Erin shook off her raincoat and started taking the pins from her hair. She couldn’t worry about Lee right now. She had too many other pressing problems, the first of which was to get up early in the morning and straighten out the mess that Mitch had made of the Anderson will. That meant that she would have to go back to the bank on a Saturday, but she saw no other solution. With the new boss in town, it wouldn’t do to have him walk in on Monday morning and face an angry beneficiary.

Erin shook her hair down to her shoulders and made her way to the bathroom for a long hot bath. It had been a tiring and disturbing day.

Two

In the silent city, the stark marble building knifed upward through the early morning fog. Workmen were already removing the old lettering to announce formally that First Puget Bank had become one more cog in the banking machine known as Consolidated Finances. Erin felt a surge of sadness as the final gold letter was lifted off its marble support. It was disheartening to realize that an institution with eighty-year-old roots on the banks of Puget Sound could be so easily transformed into a new, slick piece of financial machinery. Erin couldn’t help but feel that some of the personality of the bank would be lost in the transition. Quietly she let herself into the building with her own key and waved to the security guard near the door.

The large foyer of the bank was conspicuously quiet without the usual din of customers, tellers and ringing telephones. It was an eerie, tomblike feeling, and usually gave Erin a feeling of peaceful tranquillity, but today she felt somber.

The elevator was waiting for her, and with a vibrating groan, it whirred into motion and lifted her to the twenty-third floor and the maze of offices that comprised the legal department. She walked in the glow of the security lights, not bothering to turn on the bright iridescence of the outer office fixtures. As she passed Mitch’s office she lingered for a moment, experiencing a stab of regret and bitterness. Why couldn’t things have worked out better for him? Why did Webster let him go? She wondered about the circumstances surrounding his departure. Was Kane Webster really on a witch hunt of sorts, or was there more to the story? She touched the brass doorknob but released it quickly. What good would it do to go snooping in Mitch’s office—it would only stir up unwelcome feelings. The best idea would be to do her work and leave the building before depression really did settle on her shoulders.

Erin’s office was dark, but she clicked on the brass desk lamp rather than the overhead fluorescent fixture. The lamp bathed the desk area in a gentle warm glow and gave the room a more intimate and less businesslike atmosphere. She adjusted her reading glasses and pulled out Mitch’s dog-eared copy of the Anderson will. As she began to read the verbose and tangled document, Erin became totally consumed by her work. She pulled out several large volumes and unconsciously began humming to the airy notes of the piped-in music. Within minutes she settled herself comfortably on the carpeted floor of her office and became oblivious to anything other than the interesting terms of the document.

Kane stepped out of the cab and handed the driver a healthy tip. He stood for a moment on the curb and squinted up at the tall building he had purchased. With stern satisfaction he watched while the new sign for Consolidated Finances was put into place. He couldn’t help but wonder if, as Jim had suggested, he had made a mistake in purchasing this particular bank. It had lost money for nearly two years through terrible mismanagement and was teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. It would take a great deal of finesse on his part to avoid the collapse of the entire organization. Perhaps he had been rash in his decision to acquire the bank. In his eagerness to get away from a glittery lifestyle in California, and in hopes of favorably relocating his daughter, it was possible that he had been too hasty in his decision.

It was too late to start second-guessing himself at this point. With a determined grimace he let himself into the newest in a series of West Coast branches of Consolidated Finances.

As the elevator took him upward he reflected on the position of the bank. Certainly it was salvageable. The first order of business was to plug the embezzling leak. Kane smiled to himself. Nothing would give him greater satisfaction than to deal with the woman who was attempting to steal money from the account holders of the bank. He’d already dealt with Cameron, just yesterday, and fired the bastard. Unfortunately Cameron hadn’t given Kane any clues as to the identity of his accomplice. Kane had underestimated the man. He had expected Cameron to crumble into a thousand pieces and give him any information he required in return for immunity from prosecution. But Cameron was made of sturdier stuff, it seemed.

Cameron’s attitude had reinforced Jim’s opinion—the accomplice had to be a woman, someone Cameron cared enough about to try and protect. Kane hoped that there might be a clue in Mitch’s office, just one tiny shred of evidence as to the identity of the woman.

The steel doors opened and Kane stepped into the dimly lit reception area of the legal department. As he was about to snap on the lights, he paused. Was it his imagination or was someone actually humming? His eyes swept the reception area and the adjoining offices until he saw the golden glow of a desk lamp illuminating a partially opened door. The humming continued, a soft womanly quality in its melodic tones. Kane’s mind speculated about the woman. Who would be here alone on a Saturday, early in the morning, when the bank was closed? Security personnel? A custodian? Unlikely.

Kane smiled almost evilly to himself and left the hallway in darkness. Maybe for once he had gotten lucky. It was about time for his luck to change. Perhaps the job of finding Cameron’s accomplice was going to be much easier than he had first supposed. Stealthily he strode onward toward the beckoning doorway. His jaw tightened and he cautioned himself to be wary. It would be easy for a thief to cover her tracks if she was smart enough to realize that he could be suspicious of her. He would have to tread lightly. Silently he made his way to the door, unprepared for the scene that met his eyes.

A small woman with thick black hair brushed loosely over her shoulders was sitting on the floor of the office. She sat cross-legged with her back to the door, and she was pouring over an enormous pile of open-faced legal documents and books. The office itself was an incredible tangle of notes, books and loose papers. The object of his inspection wasn’t what he had imagined. Wearing tight-fitting jeans and a bulky violet sweater that hid none of her soft curves, she was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t hear his entrance. A pair of reading glasses perched tentatively on the end of an upturned nose and a pencil caught behind one ear kept her hair from falling in her face. Absently, to herself, she continued humming. To Kane she appeared more like a college student preparing for final exams than a businesswoman, and she hardly looked the type who stole. There was a tranquil but nevertheless faintly disturbing beauty about the young woman.

Kane’s reflexes hardened. No matter who this woman was, he had to force himself to keep his objectivity about her. Right now she had unwittingly assumed position number one on the list of embezzling suspects, and Kane couldn’t forget that fact. No matter how innocent or vulnerable she seemed, she was most likely to be the snag in the legal department. It didn’t matter that the elegant curve of her jaw conformed to her regal bearing, or that her obsidian hair shimmered with streaks of indigo…. Before he let his thoughts wander any further, he caught himself. The last thing he could afford at this point was to feel any interest in her whatsoever.

He coughed to get her attention, and immediately she swung her startled head in his direction. Her eyes met his, and just for a moment he felt as if he was slipping into their lilac depths. Even over the top of her reading glasses, he could see that there was a tremor of fear in those luminous eyes, and involuntarily he wanted to reach out and comfort her. But he forced himself to remain standing, unwavering.

Erin had been completely oblivious to anything other than her work, but a soft cough interrupted her thoughts. She whirled to face the intruding noise, half expecting to see a familiar face.

“Mitch?” she called from habit.

The man standing in the doorway was a stranger and a ripple of alarm broke over her. Her surprise was revealed by the barely concealed gasp. Whoever the tall man was, he had evidently been standing in the doorway for several minutes. He had been right over her, silently appraising her. The thought of his eyes traveling unrestricted over her made her uneasy, tense.

“Were you expecting someone?” he asked.

“Yes…no…you surprised me.”

He cocked an eyebrow and leaned against the door-jamb, still watching her intently. He was a tall man, and even in his casual clothes Erin could tell that he was well-proportioned and lean. Strong, broad shoulders supported the expensive weave of his open sport coat. As he stood somewhat insolently, his supple legs strained against the light weight of his tan corduroy slacks. His hair was thick, burnished auburn, laced with traces of gold that gleamed in the warm light of the room. His face was tanned and angular to the point of being harsh, and his gray eyes held hers in a severe gaze that spoke of power and hinted at arrogance. For a moment neither spoke, and Erin felt the spark of electricity in the air.

“May I help you?” Erin inquired in her most coolly professional voice. She guessed at the identity of the intruder and tried to present a calm and efficient demeanor to her new superior. It wasn’t an easy task, considering the fact that she was sitting Indian-style in a semicircle of legal documents. She rose as gracefully as possible, without letting her eyes waver from the calculating face of the man who just last night had fired Mitch.

“You’re Miss O’Toole?” he continued his inquiry, not answering her question, and only breaking the power of his gaze by a glance at the carved nameplate on her desk.

“That’s correct,” she agreed, for some reason unable to smile. “I assume you’re…Mr. Webster?”

“Kane,” he suggested. His silvery eyes drove more deeply into hers and she could feel that he was watching her response, almost anticipating her reaction. “You were expecting me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then…you were waiting for Mitchell Cameron?”

“I told you before, no.”

“Then what exactly are you doing here?”

She paused for a moment. It had to be evident that she was busy with legal work, didn’t it? Perhaps it was the way that he asked the question that made her feel a need for caution. “I was working.”

“I can see that,” he scoffed, and for a minute a smile threatened to creep over his face. “But I guess my question should be more specific. Why are you working—” his eyes scanned the office “—seemingly alone, on a Saturday?”

“I am alone!” Was he relieved? “And the reason that I’m here is that there has been a tremendous increase in my workload with the conversion to Consolidated,” she replied, but he didn’t seem to be listening. To her consternation he came into the room and casually hooked one leg over the desk corner, as if to remind her that he owned the place—literally.

She felt a need to back away from him—to put a little space between his body and hers, but she ignored the temptation. Intuitively she knew that she couldn’t show him the least sign of vulnerability or weakness. The harshness in his attitude and his tight-lipped questions made her stiffen and become increasingly wary.

“I see,” he mused as if he really didn’t. He tented his hands under his chin in a thoughtful and, in Erin’s opinion, overly dramatic pose. “Then you’re saying that you’re overworked?”

“No…”

“No?” He smiled broadly, but the grin didn’t light the cold depths of his eyes. “Then you must be inefficient,” he suggested.

“I beg your pardon!” Erin blurted, the color draining from her face. What was he doing to her with all of these insane questions and inaccurate accusations?

“Well, it has to be one or the other, doesn’t it?”

“Of course not!” she rifled back at him, and suddenly felt as if she had just swallowed a well-placed morsel of bait. He was toying with her for some reason, and it frightened her. To hide her nervousness she began stacking the legal volumes back on the shelf and tidying the scattered papers. She started to arrange her desk in brisk, sure movements, all the while aware that his eyes touched her face, her hands, her neck, her breasts….

She pulled her attention back to him. “I explained that I had a little extra work to finish up. For some reason, that apparently irritates you. I had no intention of offending you so….”

“You haven’t offended me.” His voice was softer.

“Then what is it with you? I’m just trying to do a decent job, for your bank, I might add, and you march in here unannounced and start an interrogation!”

“Have I been interrogating you?” he asked gently, and reached for her wrist.

“You still are!” she retorted as his hand captured hers. His fingers were a warm, soothing manacle and her pulse began to heat with his touch. Her eyes flew to her wrist, to his eyes, to his fingers and back to his eyes. Then, as abruptly as he had reached for her, he let the hand drop. The intimate gesture had startled Erin, but the release was a disappointment. Unconsciously she drew away from him. He was too commanding, too powerful, and her response to him was too violent.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and his dark brows drew together. “I didn’t mean to make our first meeting an inquisition. I didn’t expect to find anyone here today.”

“Neither did I,” she breathed. “And that’s precisely why I came in—to work without interruption—from the telephone or…anything else.” Her breathing was still uneven; the man made her nervous. She tried to control herself and avoid overreacting.

“Do you come in after hours often, Miss O’Toole?” Another question!

“Only when I feel it’s necessary!” she responded cuttingly, and then feeling immediately contrite, added, “Please call me Erin. Everyone else does.”

“Fair enough. I like to keep things on a personal level.”

Erin’s black eyebrows shot skyward with his last remark, but she decided it would be wiser not to comment. She had only to remember his grip on her wrist and the storm of emotions that had seized her with his touch. She didn’t understand why she was overreacting to him, but she knew that it would be best to put distance between them.

He rose to leave, and Erin felt the air slowly escape from her lungs. She needed time to collect herself, to be alone. However, before reaching the door he paused.

“What was your relationship with Mitchell Cameron?” he asked.

Erin swallowed hard and met the chill in Kane’s eyes. “He was my boss,” she replied curtly.

“That’s all?” Kane’s angular face was tense, his jawline firm.

Erin narrowed her eyes. “No…that isn’t all!” she said defiantly, watching his gray eyes grow a shade more calculating.

“Somehow I didn’t think so.”

“Mitchell Cameron is my friend. That fact won’t change, even if you did fire him!”

“So you know about that,” he thought aloud. “Did Cameron tell you?”

“That’s right.”

“Did he explain why?”

“I thought maybe you could answer that one.” Now she goaded him.

Kane slammed the door closed, reversed his stride and came back to Erin’s desk. He planted his hands firmly on the polished surface and pushed his face to within inches of hers.

“What exactly did he tell you, and when?”

“I don’t really know if it’s any of your business,” she shot back at him. Why was he so angry with her? She didn’t understand it, but she felt her temper rise with his.

As quickly as a cat springing, he reached out for her and pulled her face near to his. “Anything about this bank is my business!”

“But Mitch doesn’t have anything to do with the bank anymore, does he?” she asked rhetorically. “You took care of that!”

She felt his closeness, the warmth of his hand against her chin, the light pulse in the tip of his fingers, the heat and magnetism that seemed to radiate from him.

“Why don’t you tell me about ‘your friend,’ Mitch,” he coaxed, and suddenly the fingers that had been rough became gentle. His thumb persuaded her to relax as it moved sensually along the line of her chin and jaw, stopping just short of her throat.

“There’s nothing to tell,” she whispered, trying to think coherently and disregard the intimate persuasion of his hand.

His eyes, flooded with passion, cooled. “Just how good friends are you?”

“Good friends—just that,” she managed, and seeing the clinical hardness on his face, pushed his hand away, adding, “Nothing more. And I resent the implication.”

“Implication?” he mocked.

“That I sleep with him. That is what you were getting at, isn’t it?” she asked with a bitterness she couldn’t conceal. “Not all successful women sleep their way to the top!”

“I didn’t mean to imply…”

“You certainly did! I really don’t understand what all of these suggestive questions are about. I came in here to get some work done!” Erin began gathering the loose papers on her desk as she attempted to stem her anger. She knew it wouldn’t do anyone any good to let her temper surface, but she couldn’t help but feel a deep-seated resentment toward the man who had fired Mitch. She wondered fleetingly about her conflicting reactions to the man—his touch, his words—but she pushed those provocative thoughts aside as she snapped the desk drawer shut, locked it and retrieved her car keys from her purse.

“I’m only trying to find out firsthand how the staff of this bank works,” he explained.

“So that you can fire us all?” she rifled back at him.

A twinkle lighted his steel-colored eyes. “Is that what you’re so upset over? You’re angry because I let Cameron go?”

How could she explain that everything about him upset her, threw her off balance. “It’s really none of my business,” she admitted, her poise and professionalism back in place.

“If it makes any difference to you, I have no immediate plans for—how shall I phrase it—restructuring the personnel of the bank. At least not until I see firsthand exactly how efficiently each department runs.”

“Except in Mitch’s case,” Erin prodded, still confused.

“Cameron was different, and as you so aptly stated, ‘it’s none of your business.”’

Kane pressed his hands together and his lips thinned. “Do you make a practice of working here alone?”

He prepared to analyze her response, but it seemed innocent. “Not usually. But as you must realize, Mitch had been wrapped up with your auditors and computer people.”

“And you had to assume his duties alone?” Kane guessed.

“Not entirely,” Erin conceded. “Olivia took over a few of Mitch’s clients…”

“Olivia? Parsons? The executive secretary?”

“She’s more than that. Actually an assistant officer,” Erin explained, thinking about the sultry woman who had once so openly flaunted her affair with Lee before the divorce was final.

Kane’s eyes never left Erin’s face. He noticed the embarrassed burn on her cheeks, the furrowed brows and the slight droop of her shoulders. Something was definitely bothering Miss O’Toole, and he meant to find out exactly what it was. He noticed that she picked up her purse, a gesture that indicated that she intended to leave. She couldn’t, not yet.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr….Kane,” she requested. She started to walk past him, but his hand reached for her arm.

“You’re leaving?”

“That’s right,” she agreed but remained standing still, conscious only of the warm touch of his hand on her arm.

He grimaced. “I was looking forward to having someone here while I set up my desk.”

“But you didn’t expect anyone, did you?” she reminded him.

“No, I didn’t. But since you’re here, you might as well give me a rundown on exactly how this department functions—or at least the way it did in the past.”

“Sorry—I’ve got plans this afternoon,” she lied. He was still touching her and the feeling was delicious, warm, inviting. The dimly lit room was beginning to close in on her, and she knew that she had to get away from him and clear her head.

“What about tonight?” he persisted.

“Still busy.” She smiled up at him but felt her lips begin to tremble. He eyed her curiously and she wanted to shrink away from him and melt into him all in the same motion. As if he understood her feelings, he pulled her a little more closely and asked his final invitation in a whisper, his breath fanning lightly across her face. “What about tomorrow?”

Her eyes reached for his and she found it impossible to lie. “I…I don’t know.”

“Come on,” he persuaded. “I’m new in town. You can show me the sights.”

“I thought you wanted to discuss business….”

“We will.”

“I don’t date anyone I work with.” His eyes touched her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, her throat.

“Don’t think of it as a date,” he murmured enigmatically. “Consider it…an orientation meeting.”

“But…”

“I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll pick you up at ten.”

“No!”

Kane released her. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he stated as if it were already a fact.

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. But she found the strength to tear herself away from the imprisonment of his stare and walk out of the office with as much pride as she could muster. She wasn’t thinking clearly; her thoughts were tangled in a web of emotions. Her mind was as ragged as her breathing, and there was an impulse and yearning that she had never experienced in her lifetime.

Once outside the building she hurried to her car and only paused to take in full, mind-clearing breaths of fresh air. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with her keys. She kept telling herself that her reactions were bordering on insanity. She had met a man, a very attractive and charismatic man, under tense circumstances. The feelings that had flooded through her were merely a release of that tension—that was all.

But the more she tried to convince herself that she was once again in command of her feelings, the more helpless and vulnerable she felt. Not since her marriage to Lee had she let any man come so close to her, and the powerful magnetism and raw energy that she felt when she met Kane frightened her. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let her emotions get so out of hand. She had to avoid being alone with him, for she couldn’t trust herself around him. In the past she had always scoffed at the kind of chemical attraction that had received so much public acceptance. Now she wasn’t so sure.

She started the engine and roared out of the parking lot, all the while mumbling to herself that she was acting irrationally.

Kane sat at his desk long after Erin had made her hasty departure. He had waited by the window until he had seen her actually leave the building and drive away. Now that she was safely gone, he lifted the long manila envelope from his briefcase.

The ordinary printouts that had seemed so dull yesterday had taken on a new luster and significance today. The desk chair groaned as he settled into it and pulled out the neatly typed report marked O’TOOLE, ERIN. He reread the information on its pages, slowly turning the facts over in his mind.

One piece of information leaped out at him. It seemed that Miss O’Toole had for a while been Mrs. Lee Sinclair before reassuming her maiden name after her divorce. Kane frowned deeply and inexplicably to himself. Erin had been employed by the bank for over ten years. In the past eight, with the aid of Mitchell Cameron, she had been rapidly promoted until she had reached her present position as second in command of the legal department. Quite an accomplishment for a thirty-two-year-old woman.

Kane rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he continued to study the file on Erin. It seemed that she had purchased a building a couple of years ago—with the help of an employee loan granted, of course, by Cameron. And just recently she had again applied for more funds, to renovate the building.

Several items didn’t add up in Kane’s mind. Erin seemed forever in need of money, but she had loaned her ex-husband a tidy sum about a year ago. A copy of the canceled check made payable to Lee Sinclair had been included in her file; Jim Haney had done his research well. The fact that she seemed always in debt was a bad sign. Also, for such a young woman, she had been promoted rapidly—too rapidly. Bad sign number two. And, from Cameron’s comments on her personnel evaluation reports, Mitchell Cameron had trusted her completely. Bad sign number three.

And what about today? She had called out Mitch’s name when Kane had entered her office. Was she expecting him, or had she merely been sent by Cameron to continue his dirty work? She had obviously spoken to Cameron last night; she admitted it herself. Just how deep was she in with Cameron and how much did she know? The suspicious questions rattled around in Kane’s head until he scowled to himself and threw the report on the desk.

It was difficult to imagine Erin O’Toole Sinclair as an embezzler. Although the evidence was stacking up against her, he couldn’t forget her delicate features and surprisingly innocent eyes.

Thoughtfully he rubbed the weariness from the back of his neck. Somehow the satisfaction that he had expected to feel while tracking Cameron’s accomplice was missing. He chided himself and accused himself of being a fool. He was beginning to soften where Erin was concerned, and he couldn’t let that happen, especially since she was probably robbing him blind at this very moment.

He slanted another severe glance at the file. The name that seemed to leap from the page at him was Sinclair. His lips drew into a thin, hard line. It was ludicrous, but the piece of information that bothered him the most wasn’t the incriminating evidence against Erin, but rather the fact that she had been married at one time. It was infuriating for him to imagine another man making love to the dark-haired woman with the wide eyes and provocatively defiant tilt to her chin, even if it had been years ago. He chuckled to himself humorlessly. What did he expect, anyway? That any woman that attracted him be a virgin?

It was the word that his own mind had used that jarred him back to reality. He was attracted to Erin, and he couldn’t allow himself that luxury. He couldn’t let her get under his skin, especially if she was indeed what he suspected her to be.

With a disgruntled shove Kane pushed the file back into the drawer and slammed it shut. Then, after shaking himself mentally, he locked his desk, somehow wishing he could throw away the key.

Three

It was late afternoon by the time Erin arrived home. She had spent the day window-shopping and walking through the heart of the city, mindlessly watching the crowds of shoppers and breathing the salty air from the Sound. She had avoided going home, content to wander among the tourists as she attempted to sort out her confused feelings. She didn’t want to deal with anything or anyone until she had set her uneven emotions back in balance. But try as she would, she was unable to push Kane Webster out of her thoughts.

Erin was angry and resentful of the way Kane had so high-handedly dismissed Mitch. She was offended by his insinuations that she had compromised her morals for career advancement by sleeping with Mitch. And, perhaps more than anything else, she was afraid of and uncertain about the feelings that he could stir in her with only a look or a touch of his fingertips. It was as if he were attracting her and repelling her at the same time. What was it about him that caused such warring emotions to battle in her weary mind? Something about him excited her, fascinated her, and she felt helpless as a moth compelled to an irresistible flame. It was a flame that would surely burn her with a molten passion until she was consumed by heat and fire.

Even the old Victorian apartment house didn’t seem as comforting as usual. As Erin was about to mount the stairs to the loft, Mrs. Cavenaugh, oldest of the tenants, opened the door of her apartment and called to Erin before she could escape.

“Erin, honey,” Mrs. Cavenaugh cajoled sweetly while leaning heavily on her cane. “It’s already getting dreadfully cold in here. I thought you were going to do something about that insulation. The floor is just like ice, and it’s starting to bother my arthritis again.” The kindly, bespectacled old woman smiled at Erin.

“Yes, Mrs. Cavenaugh, I know,” Erin sighed as she paused on the lowest step. “And I promise that I’ll get some bids on the insulation this week. There…uh, have been a few changes at the office. I’ve been pretty busy and I guess I’ve been neglecting my duties around here. But that’s no excuse. I’ll take care of it.”

Wise, faded blue eyes scanned Erin’s face, and Mrs. Cavenaugh shook a slightly crooked finger at the younger woman. “I could tell that something was bothering you from the moment you dragged yourself through the door. It’s not that ex-husband of yours again, is it?”

“Oh, no! This has nothing to do with Lee…”

“Humph! Always said that boy would come to no good.”

Erin began to protest again, but Mrs. Cavenaugh would have none of it. “You know what you need, don’t you? A cup of my chamomile tea. A good strong one.” She gave Erin a knowing wink. “You’re in luck—I have a pot brewing this very minute.” A crafty look came over the wrinkled face, and she turned to lead Erin into her apartment.

“Oh, no, Mrs. Cavenaugh, I couldn’t…”

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Cavenaugh sputtered. “Now, you come in here and tell me what’s really bothering you!”

Erin stopped protesting to smile and follow the bent figure into her apartment. The poor dear woman wasn’t really looking for Erin to complain about the cold floors at all, Erin realized. Mrs. Cavenaugh just wanted some company to brighten the long afternoon and evening. Erin decided the least she could do was enjoy a cup of tea with her elderly tenant, even if it was the foulest concoction ever to be poured from a silver teapot.

As Erin expected, the long, lace-covered coffee table was already set for two. A service of shining silver teapot and fragile porcelain cups adorned the table, and the air was scented with the strong aroma of chamomile.

Erin sat graciously in the floral side chair while, with slightly shaking hands, Mrs. Cavenaugh poured the pale ochre liquid into one of the cups. “Sugar?” she suggested, and without waiting for an answer, dropped two lumps into the light-colored brew.

Erin took the cup and sipped at the tea while Mrs. Cavenaugh settled herself into her favorite worn rocker. “So now, Erin, tell me about your problems at work.” Light blue eyes sparkled with interest as Erin briefly sketched out her morning at the bank. Erin glossed over a few of the details, carefully omitting any references to the bevy of emotions that her new boss had aroused in her. But Mrs. Cavenaugh’s knowing eyes saw more than Erin had hoped to divulge.

“So this new boss of yours…what’s-his-name…” Mrs. Cavenaugh began.

“Mr. Webster.” Erin supplied the missing words.

“Yes…what’s he like?” Eyes, crinkled at the corners, stared earnestly at Erin over the rim of the tiny cup.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Erin said with a shrug, hoping that she appeared aloof. “He’s…all business, I suppose. You know, the typical banker type.”

“I wonder…” The old woman paused dramatically, but Erin refused to rise to the bait and defend her position. “You say that he let Mitchell Cameron go? Why?”

Erin frowned into her teacup. “I don’t know,” she replied earnestly. “But I intend to find out!”

Mrs. Cavenaugh’s laughter crackled through the apartment. “And I don’t doubt that you will.” Why did Mrs. Cavenaugh seem so pleased? “Do you expect to corner Mr. Webster at work on Monday and get to the bottom of this?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it. He wants me to meet him tomorrow—show him the city, let him know firsthand about the bank. But I don’t think it would be a good idea. You know how I feel about my free time…”

“Oh, nonsense!” The sweet, wrinkled woman smiled and waved her hand, dismissing Erin’s argument as if it were a bothersome insect. “Yes, I know all about your need for privacy, and I know why. But, Erin, it’s been eight long years since that louse of a husband walked out on you, and you can’t hide away forever. Why not have some fun with this Mr. Webster? How could it hurt?”

“I have no intention of ‘having fun’ with Kane!” Erin exclaimed, bristling. Mrs. Cavenaugh’s eyes seemed to dance at Erin’s familiar use of her employer’s first name. “If I were to go, it would be strictly as a business meeting!”

“Call it whatever you will, it doesn’t matter. But for goodness’ sake, honey, go!” Mrs. Cavenaugh seemed to sense that Erin was wavering, and she added one final incentive. “How else do you plan to find out about Mitchell Cameron, unless you confront this Webster? I would think that you would prefer to do it while you were alone with the man.” She seemed thoughtful for a minute, letting her teacup rest in her hand. “This isn’t the kind of thing that you would want to start a scene over—now, is it? It just wouldn’t do to let on to all of the employees. It’s too scandalous, don’t you think? What would it do to employee morale?”

Erin laughed at the thinly veiled attempts of the kind but conniving old woman to persuade her. “Why is it that I feel manipulated?”

Mrs. Cavenaugh spread her palms upward in a helpless motion, suggesting that she didn’t have the faintest idea what Erin was implying, but a devilish twinkle remained in her eyes.

“Look, Mrs. Cavenaugh, I just may go with Kane tomorrow. But don’t make anything more of it than what it is—a business meeting. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before, so don’t go playing matchmaker for me,” Erin warned with a pleasant smile as she set her empty cup on the table.

Mrs. Cavenaugh chose to ignore Erin’s bit of advice. “More?” she asked, holding the teapot in midair over Erin’s cup.

“No, thank you. I’m sorry, but I really do have to get upstairs. But you’re right,” she added, placing her palm on the hard wood planks of the floor, shiny with patina. “I think there’s a draft coming from the bay window.” She walked over to the window in question and ran her fingers around the sill. The cold air made her frown. “I’ll see to it that somehow we warm this place up before winter really sets in.” Erin rose and dusted her hands off against her jeans. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Don’t mention it,” the elderly woman responded with a wave of her hand. “You know you’re welcome here any time.” She was smiling smugly to herself, seeming quite pleased.

Erin let herself out of the quaint little apartment and headed up the stairs. She glanced at her watch and realized that it was too late in the day to get anyone out to weatherize Mrs. Cavenaugh’s apartment this weekend. She jingled the keys in the lock and gave a hefty shove to her own sticky front door. There were so many things that needed to be done to the apartment house and so little time and money to do them with.

With a sigh she took off her jacket and headed for the kitchen. As she made herself a quick sandwich she thought about Mrs. Cavenaugh. She was right, of course. The only logical way that she would find out the circumstances surrounding Mitch’s dismissal would be to confront Kane directly, especially since Mitch was so mysterious and cynical about the situation. However misguided Mrs. Cavenaugh’s motives were, Erin had to admit that the little old woman made sense. And, no matter what, she couldn’t run away from private discussions with her boss forever, could she? Any emotions that had started to entangle her would just have to be straightened out and dealt with in a professional manner.

The pastrami sandwich that she created tasted like mustard-covered cardboard, and after a few nibbles she put it back into the refrigerator. Mrs. Cavenaugh’s biting words came into her mind. “It’s been eight long years since that louse of a husband walked out on you. You can’t go on hiding forever!”

Is that what I’m doing, Erin wondered as she flopped down on the soft cushions on the couch. Am I hiding? From what—or whom? Ever since her personal life had been thrown open to the public, and she had become the object of speculative gossip, Erin had vowed to keep her privacy securely guarded. Lee’s open affair with Olivia had scarred Erin so badly that even today, eight years afterward, she refused dates with co-workers in an almost paranoid way. With the exception of a few close friends no one at the office had any ideas about her love life.

Some love life! She had to laugh at herself at the thought. Except for a couple of men who had interested her only slightly, she had hardly dated since the divorce. It was easier, and she preferred to keep her feelings under tight rein, thus avoiding any further conjecture about her personal life.

Eight years ago Lee had seen to it that Erin was the topic of conversation in the bank cafeteria. Whether he had intended that she discover his affair with Olivia, Erin couldn’t guess. But it hadn’t taken long to find out about his clandestine meetings with one of the most seductively beautiful women in the bank. When she had discovered the affair, Erin had crumbled. But Lee had seemed to blossom and feed upon her humiliation. Even during the first confrontation he hadn’t been upset or contrite but rather smugly proud. Erin and Lee had separated, and Lee’s fascination with Olivia continued to thrive. He was forever throwing the affair in Erin’s face as if, somehow, she was to blame for the failure of their marriage. For a while she had tortured herself with the same thoughts.

But as Lee’s attraction for uncomfortable confrontations with Erin increased, Erin realized that he drew a malicious satisfaction from taunting her. He saw to it that he and Olivia were everywhere that Erin went. During working hours he would come into the bank and meet Olivia for coffee. At office parties he would escort the sultry Olivia, never missing a chance to display his affection for her with a gentle kiss or a whispered endearment—always within eye and earshot of his former wife. At the time Erin told herself that it shouldn’t bother her, and during the day she kept up a seemingly unconcerned and professional appearance. But at night, after long lonely hours working toward a law degree, she would find herself alone in the bed that she had once shared with Lee and she would cry bitter tears of frustration.

That was years ago, and somehow the pain had lessened. Now, looking back on the past, Erin wondered if she had ever really loved Lee. She had cared about him, yes, and her pride had been severely bruised by his betrayal. But she doubted that she had ever loved him, and certainly not with the passion that she knew he had found with Olivia.

After the liaison with Olivia had cooled, Lee had come back, hoping to rekindle the ashes of their broken marriage. Erin had waited for that day, falsely thinking that she would feel a vengeful satisfaction from slamming the door in his face. But when he had actually arrived on the doorstep, he looked tired and ragged. He was unshaven and had large purple circles under his eyes. His clothes were disheveled, and even his perfect blond hair had seemed to lack its usual luster. It had taken all of her strength to close the door on him in his embarrassed and confused state. She had turned him away, and instead of feeling the grim satisfaction of sweet revenge, she could only feel empty, dry and sad for her ex-husband. After locking the door, she had run into the bathroom and been sick for the rest of the afternoon, retching until her stomach had emptied and her body shook from the ordeal.

Erin stretched out on the couch and shook her head, trying to dislodge those vivid and melancholy memories of the past. She ran her fingers through the thick tangle of her black hair. The long evening stretched ahead of her as she clicked on the television to clear her head. The selection of sitcoms and variety shows was dismal, so she picked up a mystery novel that was guaranteed to interest her and curled up again on the antique sofa. But the spy thriller that should have held her attention, didn’t. She found her thoughts traveling backward in time to her marriage only to jump forward again to this afternoon and to Kane Webster. With a disgusted sigh she tossed the book onto the coffee table and stared into the dusk. She let her mind wander at will until late in the night.

The doorbell chimed precisely at ten o’clock the next morning. Erin paused for a moment as her defenses wavered at the thought of facing Kane alone. Impatiently the doorbell sounded again, and she forcibly steeled herself before opening it.

“I thought that just maybe you had run out on me,” Kane joked. He seemed affable, yet there was still that underlying hardness about him, a doubt that she had felt yesterday.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” she quipped back lightly, but felt her stomach tighten as she realized just how many times last night she had thought of avoiding meeting him.

“Good. Now, how about a cup of coffee?” he asked as he walked into the apartment and rubbed the chill out of his hands.

“Are you offering me one, or asking for one?”

Hearing the sarcastic tone of her voice, he cocked his head in her direction. “Are you angry with me already?”

Erin hadn’t realized until then that she was angry with him for setting her life off balance. “No…of course not. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she apologized.

“Then you won’t mind if I use your phone?” he inquired. “I promised to call my daughter this morning, but I didn’t want to disturb her earlier.”

“The phone is in the bedroom,” she replied, and smiled at him for the first time that morning.

He excused himself and threw his jacket over the hall tree before he set off in the direction that she had indicated. Not wanting to intrude, she went into the kitchen and began brewing the coffee. The apartment was small, and it was impossible for her not to overhear part of his conversation, although she purposefully turned up the volume of the radio. The last thing she wanted to know about was Kane’s personal life. She had to try to keep things on a business level with him. Unfortunately even the classical music couldn’t drown out Kane’s voice as it rose in volume and unsuppressed anger.

“Krista! Don’t even suggest such a thing! I’ll be back in two weeks, and then we’ll move you up here…” There was a long pause, and then Kane’s voice softened. “I know how you feel, honey, honestly I do. But Dr. Richards thinks…” Another long pause. The conversation was extremely one-sided. “Look, Krista, I know that Aunt Sharon would like to have you stay until Christmas….But the doctor and I think it would be best to get you into school here as soon as possible.” Silence. “We’ll talk about it later. Goodbye, honey.”

It was several minutes before Kane came out of the bedroom, and in that time the lines around his eyes had seemed to deepen. Although he managed a smile, Erin could see that it was forced. He was preoccupied and tense. Through the soft folds of the fabric of his lightweight sport shirt, Erin could see the contours of his muscles, and they were tight. He walked into the living room and stared out of the window without seeing.

There was something in the droop of his shoulders that made her want to reach out and place a comforting hand against his cheek. He was having problems with his adolescent daughter—that much was evident—and Erin wanted to soothe away some of the mental pain he was experiencing. But she hesitated and remained in the kitchen, dawdling over coffee that was already brewed. It was safer somehow, watching him from a distance, wishing that any pain that he might be feeling would disappear.

When at last he turned back to face her, some of the strain had left his face. He ran his gaze over the apartment, appearing to study its contents. At that moment Erin sensed that her life was laid bare to him. The dusty rose couch, her weathered volumes of Shakespeare, an array of slightly disheveled plants, the antique rocker—everything was explored by Kane’s cold gray eyes. It was as if, from the objects in the room, he could understand her and penetrate her soul. A part of her wanted to be examined by his eyes and touched by his mind, but another, more suspicious side of her objected to his appraisal.

Thoughtfully he picked up the discarded paperback mystery novel from the coffee table along with a worn volume of poetry by Keats. He opened the poetry book slowly and settled himself uncomfortably on the couch, with his long legs cramped under the coffee table. “You read this?” he asked, half to himself.

Erin poured the coffee but remained in the kitchen, still unsure of how to handle the conflicting emotions that surfaced each time she was alone with him. To answer his question she explained, “I read a variety of things, depending upon my mood.”

“So I see,” he agreed, eyeing the paperback spy thriller.

Suddenly she knew that she had made a mistake by seeing him in the intimacy of her own home. She felt too vulnerable, too transparent, too visible. Kane was alone with her, looking into the secret corners of her life, and unexpectedly she felt threatened. She had overheard part of his disagreement with his daughter, and she felt a desire to comfort him, and yet a need to turn her back on him and his problems. She couldn’t let his life get tangled with her own; hers was too complicated and too precarious. She had to work with him as an employee; she couldn’t let her emotions carry her away. She braced herself as she carried the two steaming mugs of coffee into the living room. “Kane,” she began, placing a cup near him, “I don’t think that it would be a good idea to go out today”

“You want to stay in?” he asked, deliberately misinterpreting her. “That would be fine with me….Thanks.” He reached for the cup and took an experimental sip while still watching her.

“No…I don’t want to stay here. What I mean is I don’t think that you and I should see each other…”

“Why not?”

“Because, for one thing, I make it a practice not to date anyone I work with.”

He smiled to himself. “Then obviously, you’re not as insecure about your job as you pretended to be yesterday. Wasn’t it just yesterday morning that you accused me of plotting to fire you, along with all the other employees of the bank?”

“You’re avoiding the issue,” she challenged, a feeling of exasperation beginning to wash over her. “I’m not up to playing word games this morning!”

“Then let’s be honest with each other, shall we? Why is it that you won’t go out with me?” he asked, his silvery eyes capturing hers.

How could she tell him what she herself really didn’t understand? Was it possible to explain that she felt a desire to be with him and an urge to run from him?

“Are you afraid of me?” His voice broke into her thoughts.

“No!”

“Well?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to mix business with pleasure.”

“Then,” he seemed to agree, “let me assure you that you’ll have a very unpleasant afternoon!” He placed his cup down and smiled at her in a perfectly sickening and victorious manner.

“Be serious….”

“I am! So far, you haven’t given me any viable excuse for not spending a quiet afternoon together.”

“But I thought…”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought.” Kane reached for her hand across the table, stifling her protests. “I just want a chance to get to know you better. Is that such a crime?” His angled face was earnest and open. Any doubts she had conceived earlier were quickly cast aside with the touch of his hand on her palm and the peaceful serenity of his gaze.

“No…”

“Good! Then let’s go, shall we?”

She pulled her hand away from his and reached for her jacket. He pulled his legs from their bent position under the table, stood up and let his eyes roam over the apartment. His perusal was slow, steady and deliberate. Erin felt herself once again becoming more uncomfortable as the silent minutes passed.

“Do you like living here?” Kane finally asked, all of his attention drawn to the features of her face.

“Why do you ask?”

“I guess because this apartment house isn’t exactly what I expected.” He lifted his shoulders and shrugged into his jacket.

“Just what did you expect?” Erin was intrigued by the conversation. Perhaps if she could draw him out, he would explain his feelings about her and wash away those last traces of doubt that nagged at Erin’s mind. She could sense that there was something he wasn’t telling her. It was as if he was purposely being wary with her.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he began in answer to her question. “But this place—it seems a little out of character,” he remarked, looking at the faded Persian rug and running his fingers over the antique craftsmanship of the lead-glass windows.

“Out of character?”

“You’re a career woman, right?” he asked, and Erin nodded her head in agreement, all the while wondering what he was leading up to and somehow not wanting to know. “This apartment—for that matter, the entire building—just doesn’t fit with my interpretation of today’s liberated woman…”

“Why not?”

“Truthfully,” he chuckled, “because it looks like the set for one of those black-and-white slice-of-life movies of the forties.”

Erin arched an inquisitive black eyebrow. “And you expected smoked glass, chrome fixtures and black vinyl upholstery?”

“Something like that.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she quipped, leaning against the door.

“You haven’t disappointed me—not at all.” His eyes found hers for an instant, and then his gaze swept the loft. “I knew when I met you that there was a darker, more private side of you. A side that you prefer to keep hidden away. Am I right?” His hands came up to the door, pressing on the wood and creating an imprisoning barrier near her head.

Erin met his questioning gaze with defiance. He was too close to the truth, too close to her. She drew in a deep, trembling breath. “You’re right. I am a very private person, and I like it that way. What I don’t like is anyone coming into my home and attempting to psychoanalyze me!”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes revealed only arctic cold. His breath whispered across her face. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“I hope not,” she breathed, trying to still her racing heartbeat. Surely he could hear it—he was so near.

His finger reached out and stroked her cheek and his eyes covered her face and throat. “Maybe it would be a better idea to stay here today,” he suggested silkily, but abruptly changed his mind. “On second thought it might be too dangerous to stay here…come on. I don’t like being late.”

“Late? For what?”

“You’ll see…” There was just a hint of intimacy in his tone.

Erin pulled her jacket tightly around her shoulders, as if she were experiencing a sudden chill. “What have you got planned for today? Where are we going?” she demanded.

“You really don’t want to know!” He moved one of his hands and helped her with the light calfskin jacket. His fingers brushed against her arm and lingered. Or did they? She pulled abruptly away from him and cinched the belt securely over her waist.

“Of course I want to know! Where are you taking me?”

“Just come along. And don’t try to kid me. I haven’t known you very long, but believe me, I know you well enough to realize that you like surprises and mystery in your life.”

“I’d just like to know what makes you such an expert on me,” she muttered and reached for the door angrily. She was angry because he was correct in his assumption about her, but she hated to admit it. Before she could open the door, he grabbed her forearm and whirled her around to face him.

His eyes reached into the depths of hers. “You can’t hide from me, Erin,” he whispered. “I won’t let you.” She could feel herself trembling at his touch. Her lips parted, but the denial that was forming in her mind died.

He lowered his head slowly, and his lips melted into hers in a kiss that was soft, beckoning and full of promise. She found herself yearning to respond to the warmth and tenderness of the embrace, but she forced herself to pull away. If he had any questions about her reaction to him, he didn’t ask them. Instead he pulled her tightly against him and led her down the steep steps of the apartment building.

There were many thoughts that crossed her mind, and just as many questions that didn’t have answers. She ignored the flood of emotions that carried her out of the house and into the sleek black sports car. Kane helped her into the car and then slid into the driver’s seat. He started the engine and the sporty machine roared to life. Neither Erin nor Kane spoke, and the silence was as heavy as the gray Seattle fog, but Erin discovered an inner warmth that she didn’t know existed.

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