A Twist Of Fate
When Kane Webster buys First Puget Bank, he knows he is buying trouble. Someone is embezzling funds, and the evidence points to Erin O'Toole. Kane is determined to see her incriminated–until he meets her. He never expected to feel such an intense attraction to Erin–or to fall in love with her.After her divorce, Erin has no desire to get involved with anyone–especially not her new boss. But she can't resist Kane Webster…even if she doesn't always understand his mysterious manner. Before she can help it, she's swept into a passionate affair with a man she barely knows…a man she already loves. But when she discovers Kane's suspicions, she must decide–can she stay with a man who suspects her of criminal intent?
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Erin cleared her throat. “Would you like to come in? For a drink—or a cup of coffee?”
He rotated to face her, and even in the darkness she imagined the flames of smoldering passion burning in his eyes. “I’d like it very much.”
He opened the door for her and they walked up the long staircase noiselessly. Although they didn’t touch, Erin felt a bond between them bridging the inches of open air that separated their bodies. She licked her arid lips as she reached into her purse for her keys. Many emotions had come and gone since he had hurried her out of the apartment this morning. God, was it only twelve hours ago? Erin had hesitated only slightly when she’d thought about asking him up to her apartment. She knew how precarious it was for her to be alone with him, but she couldn’t resist extending the invitation and the evening.
Her fingers shook as she tried to unlock the door, and Kane took the keys from her hand. He escorted her through the doorway and into the small hallway. Erin went through the motions of taking off her jacket, but her mind was on Kane and the intimacy of the apartment. There was no place to hide.
“When it comes to providing gritty and sexy stories, Ms. Jackson certainly knows how to deliver.”
—Romantic Times
Also available from MIRA Books and LISA JACKSON
MYSTIC
Contents
One
The telephone receiver was slammed back into its cradle with such force that the paperweight sitting next to the phone slipped off the desk. Two framed pictures of a round-eyed, blond-haired girl rattled and then dropped onto the corner of the desk. The tall man who had slammed the telephone so violently righted the portraits with care, clasped his hands behind his back and resumed his pacing. Would it ever be possible to communicate with Krista again, he wondered. His shoulders were slightly slumped, and there was a pained darkness just beneath the anger in his eyes. He swore an oath, aimed for the most part at himself, and continued pacing in front of the wide plate-glass window.
For a moment he paused to look out the window and try and control his rage. A fading California sun was dispersing the final rays of daylight inland as it settled peacefully into the tranquil Pacific Ocean. Long lavender shadows had begun to deepen against the white sand of the beach, and the first cool hint of autumn hung crisply on the air. Kane closed his eyes tightly, as if to shut out the serene view. Turbulent emotions stormed through his body. He kept telling himself that he couldn’t change the past, that he couldn’t blame a dead woman for his daughter’s condition, and yet he did.
A solid rap on the door interrupted his black thoughts, and automatically Kane called out a terse acknowledgment. A moment later Jim Haney marched through the door carrying an ungainly sheaf of papers and a long manila envelope. Jim’s tired face held a genuine smile, although he also noted the severe lines of stress that contorted Kane’s body. Kane’s normally impeccable wool suit was wrinkled and his expensive silk tie askew. Harsh creases webbed from the corners of Kane’s deep-set gray eyes and there was a cold, hard determination in the set of his jaw. It wasn’t hard for Jim to surmise the reason for Kane’s obvious annoyance. Jim knew Kane well enough to recognize that Kane was angry and concerned over his eleven-year-old daughter. The guilt that Kane bore silently was beginning to show. Kane needed to think about something else—anything else—and Jim hoped that he had found the solution to Kane’s studious disinterest in anything other than the near-fatal accident that had left his daughter disabled.
Jim’s smile remained intact as he met Kane’s annoyed gaze. “I guess this about wraps it up,” Jim announced, fanning the air with a smooth sheaf of computer printouts. Kane’s cool eyes followed the green and white pages with only feeble interest while Jim continued. “The Seattle sale—it’s final—and all of the loose ends are tied up…except for one.”
“So quickly?” Kane asked skeptically as he settled into the worn leather chair behind his desk and began scanning the printout.
“For once it looks like we may have gotten lucky.”
“Good!” There was a note of finality to Kane’s words. He looked up at Jim with a grim smile. “Then there’s really no reason for me to wait, is there?”
Jim coughed nervously before meeting Kane’s unwavering gray stare. “Are you sure that you’re making the right decision?”
Involuntarily a muscle in Kane’s jaw tightened. “Let’s just say that I’m making the only decision possible.”
“But to just pack up and leave all of this…” Jim’s voice trailed off as he waved expansively. The gesture encompassed the entire gray concrete office building of Consolidated Finances, the understated but costly furnishings and the calm ocean view.
Kane’s eyes swept the office, noting the leather furniture, the thick plush carpet, the book-lined cherry-wood walls, and then fell back on his friend. “Think of it as a prolonged leave of absence, if you like.”
