But the knowing and pleased look on Mrs. Cavenaugh’s weathered face added silent conviction to the little old lady’s words.
“I…I had better be running along,” Erin said a little breathlessly as she thought about Mrs. Cavenaugh’s words. Could she possibly be right? Erin picked up her purse and her briefcase and called over her shoulder, “Don’t worry about the mess in the hallway, Mrs. Cavenaugh. I’ll have the janitor clean it in the morning….”
“Oh, Erin,” the lady at the bottom of the stairs beckoned.
“Yes.” Erin turned to look back down at her, and she could tell that the woman was struggling with some sort of decision.
“I thought that maybe you’d want to know—Lee was here today, asking about you.”
“What?”
“He left you a note, I think.” Her blue eyes beseeched Erin. “Everything’s okay, isn’t it?”
Erin hesitated only slightly. “Of course,” she managed, but she heard the hollow sound of her own words. As she mounted the final stairs to her apartment, she heard Mrs. Cavenaugh’s door close and the sharp sound of a bolt being turned in the lock. All of the airy feeling that had cascaded over her from Mrs. Cavenaugh’s suspicions about Kane’s feelings for her had vanished at the mention of Lee. As she thought about it Erin wondered how the little old lady had even seen Kane, but there was something in Mrs. Cavenaugh’s pale blue eyes that bothered Erin. The dear little woman really believed that Kane was falling in love with her. But how would Mrs. Cavenaugh even suspect?
Erin shook her head and pulled the pins from her hair as she closed the door to her loft. If only she could believe that Kane could love her or at least learn to love her. Erin’s vivid imagination began to run wild.
But just as her heart began to race in anticipation of Kane’s love, her rational mind cooled her response. What about the wariness she had sensed in the steely depths of Kane’s gray eyes? Why did she always feel that he was studying her—trying to read her mind? Why did she feel that he didn’t completely trust her? Her blood cooled and a shudder raced up her spine. The situation was impossible.
It was then that she noticed the white envelope that had been shoved under her door. The note from Lee.
Eight
It had been nearly two weeks since Erin had found the note thrust intrusively into her apartment. The message was a simple request, “Please call,” and a number that she recognized as a suburban Seattle telephone listing. She had tried to call Lee once, but was relieved when no one answered. Several other times she had been tempted to try and reach him once more, but before she had found the nerve to dial the number, she had changed her mind and left well enough alone. If he really needed her, she reasoned, he would get in touch with her again. A few times she had wadded up the note in an effort to throw it away, but she hadn’t. This morning the note was once again before her as she leaned against the kitchen counter, studiously stirring a bit of honey into her tea. It sat menacingly on the counter, inviting her to make a call that she knew would only bring her more heartache. Was she a coward? Why did she let him linger near her to remind her of the past and the pain.
She took an experimental sip of the warm amber liquid. As the hot tea slid down her throat, Erin thought about the past two weeks of her life. The days had gone fairly well. On the surface it seemed as if everything in the office was running efficiently, just as a well-oiled banking machine should. For the first time in months Erin had cleaned out her pending probate file along with a series of other nagging paperwork problems that had been building on the corner of her desk for several weeks. Her fear over gossip or rumors spreading concerning her relationship with Kane had been unfounded, other than the one unfortunate and vicious incident with Olivia. Kane proved himself to be a capable and fair employer, and outwardly Erin appeared to enjoy working for him. It had even been possible for her to work professionally with Kane by forcing her personal feelings for him into the background and never letting her emotions color her objectivity or judgment. It had been excruciatingly difficult at times not to reach out and touch him or smooth the worried look from his brow. But she had managed to look the part of a disinterested employee. At least she hoped so.
It was the nights that disturbed her, she realized now as she moved restlessly from the kitchen, taking the teacup and the crumpled note from Lee with her. Then, after carefully setting the teacup on the coffee table, she spread out the crushed piece of paper and smoothed its creases against the arm of the sofa. The seven digits of Lee’s home phone leaped out at her, and in a moment of sudden decisiveness, she shredded the note into tiny pieces and tossed them disgustedly away in the waste-basket, something she should have done two weeks ago!
Erin sunk into the soft rose-colored cushions of the couch and continued to reflect on the changes in her life. When she was alone with Kane, she felt a freedom and a rapture that were hard to describe, an enthusiasm and exhilaration that she thought had been lost with her teens. Just the light touch of his hand on her shoulder or his throaty whispered voice could send her spiraling into an emotional bliss that was both wonderful and frightening. Never had she given her heart so willingly or so easily. She knew that a part of Kane wanted to love her; she could feel it as they made love. But for some unknown reason, he wouldn’t let himself enjoy the pleasure of loving her. At first she had thought that the failure of his marriage had hardened him against a commitment to the future, but lately she had sensed that it was a more personal problem that made him withdraw. A problem somehow directly relating to her.
She shook her tangled curls and looked into the teacup as if she might find the answer to her dilemma in its amber-colored depths. Why the restlessness? Why did she feel like an aerialist carefully balancing her life on a flimsy tightrope and knowing that sometime, although she couldn’t be quite sure exactly when, the tense, frail wire would snap and send her catapulting downward into an empty black emotional abyss? The conflicting roles of daytime employee and nighttime lover were constantly at war in her mind.
Erin sighed deeply and ran her fingernails in deep grooves along the overstuffed arm of the antique sofa. There were times when she was alone with Kane that the stone wall of wariness in his eyes would weaken, and she would feel an exquisite happiness, the blush of love. But on other occasions, when she lay alone in her bed, listening as he drove off into the night, she discovered a sense of desperation and loneliness that caused feverish nightmares to disturb her sleep.
Why the torment? Where was the relationship leading them? Why couldn’t she come to grips with and accept the affair for what it was—a pleasant, sensuous experience? Why did she insist on coloring her feelings with love?
A key turned in the lock. Kane had returned. Erin could feel herself beginning to coil in tension. Nervously she waited for him to enter—just as he had every night for the past two weeks. But tonight would be different, she vowed to herself. Tonight she would insist upon answers. Why was there always a darkness in his eyes?
Kane entered the room and shut the door behind him. The stern look on his face only made Erin’s heart hammer more wildly. He was dressed casually in jeans and a tan pullover sweater. His chestnut hair was slightly messy as if he had forgotten about it over the last few hours. It was obvious that he had hurriedly stopped by his hotel before coming to see her. Unusual. The pattern of their life together had been established over the last two weeks, but this Friday night was obviously different to Kane as well as Erin. Even under the intensity of his gaze she reminded herself that she had to know, tonight, what it was that held him
away from her.
“Pack your bags,” Kane commanded without even a smile as a greeting. She jumped at his abrupt command, and for a moment his arctic gray eyes collided with hers. She felt a chill of dread pass over her body. His mouth was a tight, grim line that was neither a smile nor a frown. The grooves across his forehead seemed deeper tonight, as if he, too, had been wrestling with a troublesome and weighty decision.
“Do what?” she asked incredulously. Surprise and indignation registered in the startled expression that crossed her face. She was still sitting on the couch with her legs curled up and tucked underneath her. She almost dropped her teacup at his abrasive command.
Kane ignored her question. Preoccupied, he paced distractedly in front of the couch, his fists balled deeply in the pockets of his jeans. As he passed in front of her, Erin couldn’t help but notice that his jeans, slung low in the waist, strained against his thighs and buttocks with each of his long strides. As he paced she was reminded of a caged animal, and she could almost visualize his tightly controlled muscles rippling beneath the fabric of his clothing. Forcefully she pulled her attention away from his virile male anatomy and tried to read the expression on his face.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he growled, and stopped his absent pacing. “I asked you to go and pack.”
“No, you didn’t,” she corrected, her eyes locking with his. “You ordered me to pack without so much as a greeting or explanation!”
Anger snapped in his eyes, but his reply was strangely soothing. The rage that was burning quietly within him was controlled. “You’re right,” he expelled in a long breath, “and I’m sorry. I…I’m a little distracted this evening,” he offered as an apology.
“I noticed!” she retorted, and then seeing the worried creases that pulled his thick dark brows together in concern, she amended her hot retort. “I guess it’s my turn to apologize,” she admitted wearily. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’ve been a little distracted myself.”
“Oh?”