They walked back to the car in silence, each absorbed in private thoughts. Erin wondered how she could possibly work for a man she needed so passionately as a woman. And what about his daughter, who blamed him for his wife’s death? And Mitch—could she bring up the subject of Mitch’s dismissal with Kane, or would it be the wedge that would come between them? For, as unlikely as it seemed, Erin was unwittingly beginning to look upon herself and Kane as a man and woman with a deep understanding of each other. But that’s crazy, the realistic side of her mind argued. You don’t even know the man.
And Kane wondered about Erin. Could this enigmatic and beautiful woman really be a viable suspect in the embezzling scheme? She seemed so…innocent, if that was the right word. It was so easy to talk with her; he had already confided in her concerning Krista. That was probably a mistake, he thought now. But for the moment he didn’t want to believe anything about Erin other than what he felt. She was bewitching and he meant to find out all he could about her—tomorrow. Tonight he just didn’t give a damn whether she was embezzling or not.
The black sports car whipped through the quiet streets, sending sprays of water as its tires slashed pools of standing water. The windshield wipers moved in tempo, pushing the raindrops off the glass. Night closed in on Erin as the black interior of the car seemed to melt into the darkness of the evening.
Erin’s senses were heightened. In the warmth of the enclosed sports car, she could smell the tangy scent of Kane’s cologne and the masculine essence of his rain-drenched body. For the entire short ride Erin was aware of the man next to her. As he shifted gears, she could see the long hard lines of his fingers and the athletic slant of his legs straining against the fabric of his pants. She had trouble concentrating on anything other than his potent masculinity.
As they approached the apartment house, he killed the engine and sat motionless, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. He glanced toward the windows of Erin’s third-floor apartment.
Erin cleared her throat. “Would you like to come in? For a drink—or a cup of coffee?”
He rotated to face her, and even in the darkness she imagined flames of smoldering passion burning in his eyes. “I’d like it very much.”
He opened the door for her and they walked up the long staircase noiselessly. Although they didn’t touch, Erin felt a bond between them bridging the inches of open air that separated their bodies. She licked her arid lips as she reached into her purse for her keys. Many emotions had come and gone since he had hurried her out of the apartment this morning. God, was it only twelve hours ago? Erin had hesitated only slightly when she thought about asking him up to her apartment. She knew how precarious it was for her to be alone with him, but she couldn’t resist extending the invitation and the evening. Mrs. Cavenaugh had been right; she had hidden herself away from the world of men for much too long.
Her fingers shook as she tried to unlock the door, and Kane took the keys from her hand. He escorted her through the doorway and into the small apartment. Erin went through the motions of taking off her jacket, but her mind was on Kane and the intimacy of the apartment. There was no place to hide. “Could—I offer you a drink?”
He took off his jacket and let it fall casually across the arm of the couch. “Sure.”
Erin moved into the kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet, but her thoughts didn’t leave Kane. Although he was in the living room, the air was charged with electricity and anticipation. It was difficult to think, to move. Why had she asked him up to her loft, and why had he accepted?
She managed to put together some Irish coffee, and the cups were steaming as she carried them into the living room. Kane was standing at the window, looking into the night as if he could penetrate the darkness. His shirt was moist and clung to his body, and the ripple of his muscles was evident through the fabric.
When she entered the room, he turned to face her. His face was ragged, torn with emotion, and she knew that he was as tense as she. “Anything wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he whispered, but the besieged look on his face didn’t disappear. “Thanks,” he said with a tight-lipped smile and sampled the hot drink.
“There is something wrong,” she challenged. “I can feel it. It’s something about me, isn’t it?”
“You’re imagining things,” he retorted, and took a long swallow of his drink.
“No…I’m not. It all started yesterday, at the office.”
His gray eyes bored into her, daring her to continue. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think that you do. You were angry that I was at the office—don’t deny it. And all of those ridiculous questions about Mitch. It has something to do with him, doesn’t it?”
“Why don’t you tell me,” he suggested huskily. “What do you know about Mitchell Cameron?”
“Nothing—except that you fired him, and I don’t know why!”
He set his cup down on the table and strode quietly over to where she was standing. His voice was barely audible, but he pinned her with his gaze. “You can’t even hazard a guess?” he coaxed.
“No!”
“Why don’t you try?” His fingers reached upward and found the nape of her neck. He lifted her hair from her shoulders and clasped both of his hands gently around her neck, massaging her shoulders through the light rain-washed fabric of her blouse.
“I have no idea. I only know that the legal department wasn’t profitable…” His gray eyes snapped.
“Is that it? Would you let him go because of one bad year?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know how you work…”
“Sure you do,” he suggested smoothly, and Erin felt that she had known him all of her life.
“Aren’t you going to finish your drink?” she asked, not able to concentrate on anything other than the warm enticement of his hands. His thumbs traced lazy patterns of seduction along her throat, gently persuading her mind to think of nothing other than his overpowering maleness.
His eyes looked over at the half-full cup of Irish coffee. “Is that my cue to leave?”
Erin braced herself, trying to ignore the dizzying sensations that seemed to build up from within her and explode at his touch. “It’s…it’s getting late.”
“And you’d like to go to bed?” he cajoled, his dark eyes alive.
“I…you…we have to work in the morning,” she stammered, her senses reeling from his closeness.
“That we do,” he agreed.
Erin’s pulse was beginning to dance wildly as Kane’s hands coaxed her to newer heights of sensuality. She could feel his breath, smell his clean masculine scent, and she knew that he was going to kiss her.
His arms moved to her waist and coiled possessively around her as his mouth brushed velvet-soft kisses down her cheek and throat. Her head fell backward, and he rained kisses up and down the length of her exposed neck. Erin’s chest grew tight, and her breath began to whisper in short, shaky breaths.
His hands toyed at the hem of her blouse, at first tentatively, and finally with determination as he tugged the blouse out of the waistband of her slacks. His fingers explored the soft, supple muscles of her back, warming her skin to a rosy glow. Her knees began to give way, and he caught her, pushing his lips over hers in silent union. She moaned, and at the invitation of her parted lips, his tongue found hers, flicking and dancing with moist sparks of unfettered passion.
Moving steadily upward, his hands inched up her spine in a delicious spiraling motion. Her skin