Suspicions. Lisa Jackson
Читать онлайн книгу.
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