Suspicions: A Twist of Fate\Tears of Pride (11 page)

“Within a year Jana was trying to rebuild her career. It was difficult for her because she was six years older and slightly out of shape. Modeling, for the most part, is for the very young woman with an almost boyishly slim figure. No one in the New York or Los Angeles agencies was interested in Jana. As far as they were concerned, Jana was yesterday’s news.

“Then this Hollywood actress obsession took hold of her, and unfortunately she failed, dismally trying to remember her lines as the cameras rolled.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It was at about that point that she began making the self-help and group therapy rounds. She went through periods of fad diets, deep depression, sensitivity groups—you name it and she was into it. I suggested that she go to a respected local psychiatrist, but she ignored my advice as usual and preferred to stick with the most faddish encounter group of the day.

“That’s when I decided to do something about Krista. As poor a father as I had been, even I knew that all Jana’s neuroses couldn’t be good for an impressionable nine-year-old girl. Damn!” He swore at himself and bit his lower lip in annoyed remembrance. “I should have seen it earlier. Maybe I could have prevented all of Krista’s problems. Perhaps if I had been paying a little more attention to my kid rather than my business interests, Jana would be alive today and Krista would be walking like a normal and healthy eleven-year-old!”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Erin objected. “You tried to help.”

Steely gray eyes flashed fire at her. “‘Too little, too late,’ as the saying goes.”

Erin had trouble keeping her silence. She saw the emotions that were ripping him apart as he thought about his past. His fist clenched tightly before he thrust it into the pocket of his pants.

“There’s really not all that much more to tell,” Kane admitted in a softer, more controlled voice. “I was concerned, and I suggested that Krista come and live with me, at least for a while, until Jana could—how did she phrase it—get her head together. But she wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Krista was a burden to her, and both she and I knew it, yet she wouldn’t allow my own daughter to come and live with me! Sometimes I felt that Jana was using Krista as a weapon against me.” An almost evil look stole over his lips. “And it worked! Not only did it bother me, but Krista became steadily more introverted. She always had been a somewhat shy, quiet child, but it seemed that she was withdrawing too deeply into herself, becoming sullen.” There was a long pause while Kane drew in a steadying breath. “And then, of course, there was the accident. Up until that time, at least I could talk to Krista.” His eyes darkened with a quiet rage at the circumstances that had led to the isolation from his only child. “But since the accident and her paralysis, I have trouble communicating with her about anything. It’s as if she’s punishing me for what happened to Jana….” He shifted his weight uncomfortably on the couch before murmuring, in a barely audible voice, his own self-condemnation. “I suppose that I deserve it!”

“No!” Erin challenged.

“For God’s sake, Erin. Krista watched her mother die!”

“Oh, Kane, don’t go on blaming yourself for something that no one could prevent,” she begged.

“Easier said than done,” he muttered.

Telling the story had been an ordeal that Kane hadn’t prepared himself for. He was nervous and amazed at his own confessions to Erin. It was never his intention to divulge so much of himself to her. He didn’t want her to be able to see into his mind, and yet he had just given her the chance.

Kane had told himself that he needed to get to know Erin to find out more about the embezzling scheme at the bank, but the pleading look of innocence in her eyes, the soft, petulant curve of her lips, and her clear-sighted, intelligent mind all trapped him into admitting things that he had hidden from the rest of the world. Why was it so damn easy to talk to her, to confide his most introspective thoughts to her?

Erin was obviously moved by his story; he could see that in the caring look of pain she directed toward him and the unshed tears in her eyes. God, he reminded himself, he had to get away from her while he still could.

He cleared his throat and put his empty coffee cup on the table. Avoiding her eyes, he reached for his jacket and slipped the sport coat over his shoulders. “I guess that we had better call it a night,” he declared with a touch of tenderness in his voice. He fought the urge to draw her into his arms and kiss away the tears she was trying courageously to hide.

“You’re leaving?” Was it a surprise or disappointment that made her touch her lips provocatively?

“I think it would be best.”

“Why?”

“I thought you were the one who wanted to keep our relationship strictly business….”

“It’s too late for that now,” she whispered, and her wide violet eyes touched his.

“Convince me,” he coaxed huskily, and mentally cursed himself for his own weakness.

“What would it take to convince you?” she teased, still blinking back the tears that pooled in her eyes.

“Use your imagination….”

A slow seductive smile lit her eyes. “You’re wicked,” she accused. “You know that, don’t you?” She crossed the living room and let her fingers slide inside his jacket to press warmly against the light cotton fabric of his shirt. Powerful muscles tensed under the sensitive touch of her fingertips.

A slow groan of agonized pleasure escaped from his throat before he lowered his head to hers and captured her lips with his. “Oh, Erin,” he whispered as he swept her off her feet and carried her toward the bedroom, “why is it that I can’t resist you?”

Chapter 7

The bed creaked and shifted in the darkness.

“What are you doing?” Groggily she asked the question. Erin’s eyes fluttered open as she felt Kane stir and move out of bed.

“I have to get up—I have work to do today,” Kane replied and rubbed her tousled head fondly. In the inky blackness of the predawn hours, he could see her. Even after a passionate night of lovemaking, she looked serenely enchanting against the stark whiteness of the bedsheets.

She groaned and rolled over. “But, oh, God, it’s only”—Erin reached for the alarm clock and pulled the luminescent dial within inches of her face and sleepy eyes—”four-thirty in the morning.” There was another agonized groan as she pushed the clock back on the nightstand. “No one in his right mind gets up at this time of day,” she moaned, and stuffed her face back into the downy softness of her pillow.

The bed sagged under Kane’s weight and he pressed a warm kiss against her forehead. “Do you want me to stay until dawn?” he asked quietly. “What about your tenants, not to mentioned our fellow bankers? You were the one who didn’t want our relationship open for public viewing,” he reminded her. “Besides all of that nonsense, I need a shower, shave and a change of clothing.”

Even to Erin’s cobweb-filled mind, Kane’s reasoning seemed logical and clear. She propped up her head with her hand and tugged at the quilt close to the base of her throat. An autumn chill stung the morning air.

It took a little time, but slowly she began to awaken, and with interested eyes, she watched him get dressed. It was strange how comfortable she felt just being with him, how natural and right it all seemed. But he was correct. The fewer people who knew of their relationship, the better.

Kane left just as dawn was stretching its golden rays through her bedroom window. She listened as his car roared off down the hill and faded in the distance. It was a faraway, lonely sound that retreated into the misty morning air.

It was impossible to fall back into the heavy slumber that had come to her in Kane’s arms. And so, with one final assessing and dubious glance at the clock, she got up, showered and dressed for the day.

Surprisingly, with only a few hours sleep, Erin felt wonderfully refreshed after the hot needlelike spray of the shower pulsated against her skin. She toweled herself dry, applied a thin sheen of makeup, twisted the ebony strands of her hair into her businesslike chignon and stepped into her favorite burgundy suedelike suit. As she tied the broad white bow of her silk blouse she glanced in the mirror, and the woman in the reflection smiled back in genuine fondness. Erin felt good about herself this morning.

Fingers of fog still held the city, but the bright morning sun sent prisms of colorful light streaming heavenward in what promised to be a gorgeous fall day.

Unwittingly Erin smiled as she pushed her way through the large plate-glass doors of the bank building. The dismal feeling of trepidation that had been with her during the transition of ownership of the bank seemed to have disappeared. Even as she brushed by Kane’s office, she felt only a tinge of regret for Mitch. She still had a fondness in her heart for her ex-employer, but she realized that there was nothing that she or anyone else could do to help him. He had never returned any of her calls, although she had left several messages on the mechanical answering device that Mitch had installed. She had tried her best. Now, surely, if he needed to get in touch with her, he would.

As she passed by the outer reception area, she reached, by habit, for her messages stacked neatly on the main reception desk. She smiled inwardly as she read the bold scrawl that she recognized immediately as Kane’s handwriting. It was concise and stated only “Tonight, eight o’clock.” Erin couldn’t restrain the blush that slowly climbed up her neck nor the look of satisfaction that touched the corners of her eyes. She wondered how transparent she must appear.

The secretary who had compiled the messages for her was a professional woman of about sixty, who neither commented nor indicated in any manner that she had read or interpreted the intimate message in Ms. O’Toole’s slot. Relief washed over Erin as she read the look of total disinterest in the gray-haired woman’s smile and the professional “Good morning” that was her usual greeting. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Even before Erin began to move toward her office, the secretary resumed the quick staccato rhythm of her lithe fingers on the keyboard of the typewriter.

It was midafternoon before Erin actually saw Kane again. He was conferring in the hallway with a man whom Erin recognized as a vice president of the loan department. For a quick instant Erin’s mind traveled to the employee loan that she had requested and wondered fleetingly if it was the topic of conversation. From Kane’s reaction she doubted that he was discussing her need for funds.

As she passed the two bankers Kane gave Erin a perfunctory nod of his head to indicate that he had seen her, but there was nothing the least bit intimate in his gesture. It was an act of courtesy to acknowledge an associate. For a moment Erin’s temper began to rise, and she felt angry until she understood the reasons for his discretion and feigned lack of interest in her. It was what she had requested, insisted upon—that their relationship remain secret, clandestine—and he was adhering to her request to the letter.

As she closed the door to her office she found herself still thinking of Kane and the tenuous relationship that existed between them. How could something so wonderful as falling in love with Kane seem so wrong? Why did she feel two conflicting urges warring within her mind? One feminine part of her wanted to share the happiness she had found with him with the world. The other more cautious and rational side of her nature urged her to silence. After all he was still her boss, the man who signed her paychecks, and it would be easy for anyone to misconstrue her feelings and relationship with him. She had been the target of curious and malicious gossip before, and she had vowed never to let herself be put in such an emotional and compromising position again. She knew how devastated she had been eight years ago, and she steeled herself against any intrusions into her private life. She hadn’t wanted to fall in love with Kane; it had just happened. Perhaps, together, they could avoid the speculation and gossip. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult to keep things on a professional level at the office, could it?

Erin lulled herself into a sense of serenity. It was a brilliant autumn afternoon, and other than the slight snub from Kane, the day had gone well. It wasn’t until late afternoon that her tranquil mood was destroyed.

Contrary to what she had expected, Erin had accomplished more work this day than she had in weeks. Kane Webster had seemed to more than amply fill Mitchell Cameron’s shoes, and all the disturbing telephone calls and interruptions that Erin had become used to had vanished. For the first time in over six months she could devote all her attention to the piles of probate work that had accumulated in her “Incoming” basket.

Erin was actually giving herself a mental commendation as she surveyed the clean desktop and slipped into the burgundy jacket before leaving the building. Just as she reached into the open desk drawer for her purse, there was a sharp rap on the door, and Olivia Parsons, not waiting for an invitation, glided into the room.

At the sultry brunette’s entrance, Erin felt a cold tingle of apprehension at the back of her neck. Olivia was holding a clipboard pressed firmly to her breasts and jangled something metallic in the air.

“New keys!” Olivia announced, and dropped a ring of keys with a jingle onto the desktop. The green shimmer of Olivia’s street-length designer dress matched the emerald essence of her eyes. “I’ll need all your old keys,” she stated flatly, and waited, somewhat impatiently, with her long fingers resting against her hip. The action emphasized the long, seductive curve of her leg.

“My keys? Why?”

“Standard procedure, after something like this embezzling thing with Mitch. Who can guess just how many sets of keys he’s had made for any door in this building?”

“Of course,” Erin agreed, and found herself relaxing a little as she realized that Olivia was just doing her job. Erin understood the liability of the bank. Even if Mitch had turned in his set of keys, he could have a dozen copies hidden away. The bank couldn’t take the chance that he might sneak back into the building or the vaults.

“Here they are,” Erin stated, producing the keys from the side pocket of her purse. She handed them to Olivia and the dark-haired girl frowned as she counted them. “Where’s the other one?” Olivia asked, a puzzled expression crowding her neatly arched brows.

“I don’t have any others. Just the key to the front door, the probate file cabinet, and Mitch’s office—unless you want my desk key.”

“No,” Olivia answered, checking the corresponding numbers on the keys against her chart. “What about the key to the securities cart?” she asked, her green eyes reassessing Erin.

“I haven’t had the key to that cart in years,” Erin said, thinking aloud. Absently she rubbed her temple. “It had to have been over seven years ago.” Again a chilly feeling of apprehension swept over her and her stomach began to knot.

“But the ledger here indicates that you should have a key to that cart,” Olivia maintained. Laying the white formal sheet of paper on Erin’s desk, she pointed to a line showing that Erin did, in fact, receive the key in question within the last year.

“It’s a mistake…” Erin sighed. “I never had that key!”

“But aren’t those your initials next to Mitch’s signature?” Olivia pressed.

“Yes…it looks like I signed out for the key. But I didn’t. There must be some mistake….” Her voice trailed off. She knew that she had never had that key. The whole situation was absurd. And a little frightening. Anyone with that key could withdraw negotiable stocks and bonds from the cart if given the right opportunity. A perfect plan for embezzlement. The thought sickened her.

Olivia studied the report for a few seconds more and then, with an elegant wave of her hand, dismissed the subject. “I guess it really doesn’t matter since all of the new locks have already been installed. Just sign here for the new keys and I’ll see that this securities key matter is cleared up.” Erin scribbled her initials next to Olivia’s, relinquished the old set of keys to the leggy brunette and snapped the new ring of keys into her purse.

Just as she was about to leave Olivia paused at the door. She thought for a moment before turning to face Erin once again. Her voice was low as she asked, “What do you think about Mitch?” Her normally lively green eyes had deadened. “Isn’t it awful….”

Erin slowly shook her head and rubbed her chin nervously. “I don’t like to think about it—or even talk about it. It’s something that I don’t understand at all,” she confessed, and hoped that the conversation with Olivia had ended. Something about the brunette always made Erin uneasy. But Olivia wouldn’t let the subject die.

“I know what you mean.” Olivia seemed to agree. “I would never have guessed—not in a million years.” She paused once again, her gaze flicking up the length of Erin’s figure as if something else were on her mind. A flame of life leapt into her eyes. “It must be especially hard for you,” Olivia intimated.

“It’s been hard for all of us,” Erin agreed cautiously.

“Yes, but with you it’s a little different, wouldn’t you say?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“Oh, sure you do,” Olivia replied as she brushed back an errant wave of thick copper hair. “You don’t have to play naive with me. I know how close you were to Mitch.”

Erin’s patience, which had been thinning ever since the lanky girl had entered her office, snapped. She pulled the strap of her purse over her shoulder and said with a coolly professional voice that suggested the subject was closed, “Mitch is a good friend of mine—nothing more!”

“Oh?” The question seemed innocent enough, but the curl of Olivia’s petulant lips suggested disbelief. “The same way that Kane Webster is your good friend?” The color drained from Erin’s face, confirming Olivia’s vicious accusation. “Well, honey,” she continued with an exaggerated wink, “no one can accuse you of not knowing which side of the bread the butter’s on!” After her final invective, and with a self-satisfied smile, Olivia slipped out of the office.

Erin stood in stunned silence in the aftermath of Olivia’s remarks. Although she was alone, she felt a storm of scarlet embarrassment climb up her neck. It was happening again! Already! The gossip had started, and who better to start it than Olivia. Erin swallowed hard, and sagged against the desk. Why had she been so foolish—she should have seen it coming. All the gossip, the knowing glances, the snickering laughter behind her back, all over again!

She let her forehead rest on the palm of her hand as she slowly tried to recompose herself. It had been a good day, she reasoned, and she shouldn’t let Olivia ruin it. But that was the trouble, Olivia had ruined it. Why, after all the years that had passed since the divorce from Lee, did any little biting comment from Olivia still wound her? Eight years had passed since Olivia’s tempestuous affair with Lee. Although at the time, Erin had blamed the slim brunette for the breakup of her marriage with Lee, she knew now that she had been grossly unfair. If Lee hadn’t taken up with Olivia, another pretty face would have caught his wandering eye and lured him away from the bounds of the marriage. Lee was only too willing. It was just unfortunate that Lee had been reckless enough to choose to have an affair with someone whom Erin saw on a daily basis. It seemed to compound the pain.

The problem with the marriage had not really been Olivia, but rather the differences between Erin and Lee. Although Erin recognized that now, she still found it hard to accept Olivia for what she seemed to be: a very knowledgeable and efficient assistant officer of the bank. Although the problems of the past were long dead, Olivia’s presence at the bank and her vicious tongue continued to plague Erin. She never felt that she could completely trust Olivia.

Was she being unfair? Erin asked herself as she once again gathered her purse over her shoulder, straightened her skirt and headed out the door. Perhaps Olivia’s attempt to communicate with Erin about Mitch was only natural. Both Olivia and Erin had cared very much for Mitch, and each had worked for him for nearly a decade. Perhaps Olivia felt the need to lash out because of Erin’s cool attitude toward her. It was just possible that Erin was holding too much of a grudge against the sultry woman who wore the designer dresses and tailored suits with such seductive bearing. Erin sighed heavily to herself. Maybe she had never given Olivia a chance.