Suspicions: A Twist Of Fate / Tears Of Pride. Lisa JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
over the waters. He seemed to be wrestling with a weighty decision. Finally he turned his head back toward Erin. “Krista’s handicapped.”
A startled look threatened to possess Erin’s features, but she managed to make her voice steady. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“So am I,” he groaned and threw his napkin on his empty plate.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Do you want to listen?” His face was a mask of indifference, as if he suddenly regretted his outward display of emotion. No, she wanted to scream. I don’t want to know anything more about you. I’m attracted to you and I’m afraid of the attraction. I can’t learn anything more about you that might bind me more tightly to you. I have to push away from you…I have to.
“Of course I’ll listen,” she murmured, quieting the voice of suspicion that nagged at her.
“Krista is eleven. She was ten when the accident occurred.” A dark, faraway look crossed his features. As he continued, his voice was flat, betraying no emotion. It was almost as if the words were part of a well-rehearsed speech, devoid of feeling or life. “She was riding in the car with her mother, my ex-wife. They were going to some ‘retreat’ or ‘support group’ meeting for the weekend. I really don’t know much about it except it was the latest self-improvement seminar to be offered. Jana, my ex-wife, was forever following the latest self-improvement craze. It was one encounter group after another. Maybe I’m in part to blame for that too.”
Kane shook his head, as if clearing out unpleasant memories. Erin waited in silence as he continued.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter what new kick she was on. It just so happened that she had called and told me where she was going. I was angry. I didn’t think that Krista needed to be exposed to all of that pseudopsychiatric garbage, and I told her so. We got into a helluva fight and she hung up on me. Two hours later I got a phone call from the police telling me that Jana was dead and Krista was in the hospital. To make a long story short, Krista’s been in and out of the hospital ever since. She’s still unable to walk unassisted.”
“She’s paralyzed?” Erin asked cautiously.
“Not exactly.” Kane’s eyes clouded for a minute. “It seems that she was lucky—nothing was actually broken in the accident. Jana was thrown out of the car and killed instantly, but Krista remained in the car, and other than a few cuts and bruises and a sprained left wrist, the doctors can find nothing physically wrong with her.”
“But…”
“I know.” Kane nodded his head. “It seems as if the cause of her paralysis is mental.”
“I don’t understand.” Erin’s brows knit in concern. What was Kane actually saying?
“I don’t either. But what I can gather from the doctors is that she blames herself, or perhaps me, for the accident.”
“No! That’s not fair!”
Kane shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? Maybe if Jana and I hadn’t fought, she would be alive today. Maybe the argument was the catalyst for her reckless driving.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Erin argued.
“Then who can I blame?”
“No one. It was just an unfortunate accident…”
“Try explaining that to a ten-year-old girl who has just lost her mother.”
“Oh, Kane,” Erin sighed, and reached for his hand.
Her hand was warm and comforting, and for a moment Kane forgot that he suspected Erin O’Toole of thievery. What was it about her that had made him open up to her and tell her the story of Krista’s paralysis? Why was it so necessary that she know about him, that she care?
The waiter came to remove the dishes and bring the check. Kane helped Erin out of her chair and smiled disarmingly down on her. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t meant to bore you with my problems.”
“You didn’t bore me,” Erin admitted.
“Well, let’s push all those black thoughts aside for the day, shall we?” he asked, and took her hand powerfully in his. “I’m sure that when Krista gets up here and settles in, she’ll be fine.” Convincing as his words were, he didn’t seem to believe them himself.
It was nearly afternoon, and they hurried down the boardwalk to catch the Blake Island ferry to visit the Tillicum Indian Village. Once on the island, they were entertained by the folklore and art objects of the native inhabitants. Erin was fascinated by the blending of the modern and ancient cultures. The fog had lifted and the day was cool, but pleasant.
They spent the day hiking over the island and watching the everyday rituals of life in a tribal Indian village. Late in the evening Erin and Kane, along with the other tourists, were guests of the tribe and feasted on Indian baked salmon cooked in hot coals, as they had been for centuries. As twilight descended, the torches were lit, and Kane wrapped his arms possessively around Erin’s waist. They sat on the hand-carved stone steps of the amphitheater and watched the colorful display of folk culture as enacted by the inhabitants of the island. In the flickering light of the stars and the torches, Kane’s features looked stronger, more masculine. The scent of his cologne wafted over Erin, and involuntarily she pressed closer to him.
Darkness covered the island as the entertainment faded. Erin and Kane made their way back to the waiting ferry. The warm lights inside the vessel winked at them, but Kane led Erin onto the deck. The wind had become stronger, sending a salty spray into their faces as they stood on the deck of the boat and watched the sparkling lights of Seattle call to them across the narrow stretch of water.
Kane held Erin tightly, the power and warmth of his body molding to hers. During the day all of her defenses had melted. Ever since he had opened up to her and explained about his daughter, she had felt a kinship and warmth toward him. And the doubts that she had experienced were withering.
He stood behind her with the strength of his arms wrapped securely over her waist. They were silent as they watched the distance and felt the giant boat move through the black water. The engine of the large vessel whirred noisily and rhythmically and the darkened waters churned white as the ferry headed inland.
A light drizzle had begun, but Erin didn’t move, afraid to break the spell of the evening. Although the September nip in the air was cool, Erin was warm, pressed firmly against the heat of Kane’s body. It was as if they had made an unspoken pact that neither wanted to violate by speaking.
The drizzle increased into raindrops, and even the hardiest of the tourists shuffled into the interior of the ferry. Erin and Kane remained outside alone, content to feel the salty breeze against their faces and the heated promise of each other’s body. Kane nuzzled the back of her neck, letting the wind whip her hair over his face. She could feel her skin become alive with his touch, her blood begin to warm with his caress. Unconsciously she leaned closer to him.
He murmured her name, seeming to give it a special and intimate quality as it caught on the wind. She pivoted to face him and he cupped her chin in his hand before pressing the moist tenderness of his lips firmly over hers. She parted her lips involuntarily, letting his tongue trace a silken path over her mouth tentatively before slowly and sensuously exploring the moist recess and enticing her to do the same. He wrapped himself more closely around her as his tongue stroked and danced with hers.
The rain came down in silvery droplets, sliding over Kane’s face and past Erin’s cheek to her throat and finally to hide below the collar of her blouse. Kane’s kiss deepened and his hand moved gently but persistently against her back. His lips roved over her face and neck, kissing and licking the drops of rain from her eyes, cheeks and throat. An urgent moan escaped from his lips, and he finally pulled his face away from hers. His eyes slid over her body, seeming to probe every inch of her being. They had darkened to misty gray, and a pulsating passion was blazing in their dark depths.
A raindrop