“I know that,” he assured her in a voice as grave as the night.
She fingered her wineglass and took a long swallow of the rosé. She studied the pale pink liquid and swirled it in the long-stemmed glass before continuing the conversation. “Then why did you ask me all of those insulting questions about Mitch?”
At the mention of Mitchell Cameron’s name, a scowl darkened Kane’s features. Once again his face was guarded and his eyes became two silver shields. “I didn’t know you then,” was the terse reply.
“And in just three days you know me well enough to evaluate my love life?” she returned, and heard the sarcasm in her voice.
“I probably know a lot more about you than you think.”
Her lilac eyes fastened on his, and a rush of indignation that she couldn’t conceal colored her words. “You haven’t been checking up on me, have you?”
“No more than I have any other employee of the bank.” It was a lie and he knew it, but he couldn’t let her think any differently at this point.
He hated himself for the lie, but he was trapped by the web of suspicions that plagued him and by the storm of emotions that captured him every time he looked into her eyes.
“Then why all the insinuations about Mitch? Can’t you believe that a woman can make it on her own without sleeping with the boss?”
He arched an expressive black eyebrow, and she felt immediately contrite. The question that was unspoken hung between them on a charged electric current. Unashamedly Erin answered it. “You know that I didn’t make love to you because of my job.”
“Then tell me, why did you sleep with me?” he coaxed.
“For the same reason that you slept with me,” she responded, lifting her chin proudly. “Because I wanted to.” His tight frown seemed to relax, and he took a sip of his wine as he surveyed her over the rim of the wine-glass. His gray eyes concentrated on her. She seemed so honest. It was impossible to think that her beautiful face would lie. Why hadn’t she been truthful about her ex-husband? Erin O’Toole was an enigma, a ravishing, seductive enigma.
Erin struggled with her meal. Why did she feel such an uncontrollable urge to explain everything to Kane? And why did she feel the need for caution? As she put aside her fork, she spread her hands outward on the table, her fingers reaching up in a supplicating gesture. “Mitch was my boss, and he was and is a very dear friend. No matter what he’s done, nothing will change that. But there was never anything more between us than personal friendship and professional respect for each other. Can’t you believe me?”
“Of course I do—now,” Kane replied. “But you can’t blame me for my suspicions. Until I met you in the bank last Saturday, I didn’t know anything about you other than what was in your personnel file. I knew that you had been promoted rapidly—perhaps too quickly—and I wanted to know why. You have to understand that no matter how close you are to Mitch, he is a thief!” Kane’s cold gray eyes grew dark. “It’s my responsibility to the bank, the stockholders, the savings customers, everyone, to know everything I can about each employee. It would be ridiculous to think that I would rely on Mitchell Cameron’s judgment.”
Kane’s words hit Erin like a splash of cold water. She was stunned, and her voice was brittle as she asked the question that was uppermost in her mind. “Are you trying to tell me that you don’t think I’m qualified for my position, that the only reason you could see that I would get the job was because I might have slept with Mitch?” she challenged, stricken at the thought.
His voice was strangely devoid of emotion. “I’m saying that it’s difficult for me to believe that a thirty-two-year-old woman is second in command of the legal department of a major Seattle bank….”
“And if I were a man?” she fired back at him, her eyes deepening to the color of a midnight storm.
“Sex has nothing to do with this!”
“Sex has everything to do with this,” she argued, slapping her palm against the table and rattling the silverware. “You seem to overlook the fact that I spent the last six years of my life in night school, for the most part doing postgraduate work in corporate law! If it weren’t for the fact that you bought First Puget Bank, I would probably be a practicing attorney today!”
It was Kane’s turn to be angry and his words sliced through the air. “I don’t see how I could have possibly hindered your legal career! What does my ownership of the bank have to do with it?”
Erin swallowed with difficulty and licked her arid lips. She tried to think calmly and took a long swallow of wine to quench her parched throat. Getting angry wouldn’t solve anything, she told herself, and giving in to her sometimes volatile temper would only hinder the situation. Carefully she explained her position. “There are several reasons that I haven’t been able to take the bar exam.”
“And somehow they are all my fault,” he surmised.
“I’m not blaming you,” she insisted, and began toying with her napkin. “First Puget was paying my way through school. Any class I took that pertained to my job was paid for by the bank. Other classes I paid for myself. That is—until the bank sale.”
“You mean, until Consolidated Finances bought out First Puget?”
She nodded.
“Lack of money prevented you from taking the exam?” His jawline hardened and a tiny muscle began to work in his jaw as he clenched his teeth together. One more reason Erin needed money, as he saw it. Just how desperate was she?
“Money isn’t the only problem,” she sighed, wishing there were some way to avoid this particular discussion. “You see, in the past six months, there have been several departmental changes…and Mitch wasn’t around a good deal of the time. I had to spend a lot of my free time at the bank, working.”
“And you didn’t have time to study for the examination?” Was there a slight undercurrent of sarcasm to his question?
“It’s not as simple as going out and getting a driver’s license, you know!” she snapped back at him, her strained temper unleashed at last. Viciously she speared a portion of the lasagna and forced the bite into her mouth.
For a few seconds neither she nor Kane spoke, and they finished the remainder of the meal in silent battle. When she hazarded a surreptitious glance in his direction, she felt her anger flow out of her. Perhaps it was the deep concentration of his knit brows, or the play of light on his gold-streaked chestnut hair. Or maybe it was the seductive way his mouth curved, or his bronzed chest as it peeked out from beneath his shirt. Whatever the reason, she felt her temper cool as she watched him. Her heart was torn and she ached to understand the man whom she loved so urgently.