“Please try and understand….”

“Just leave me alone!” Her eyes met his, and even though they were filled with tears, he could see that she meant every word she was speaking.

“I don’t want it to end this way.”

“There isn’t any alternative. You took care of that!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough, Kane, not good enough.” Her words were colder than the autumn wind that pushed her black hair away from her face, and highlighted the proud, near-perfect oval with its fine cheekbones and luminous violet eyes.

“All right, Erin. If that’s the way you want it.”

“That’s the way it has to be,” she sighed, and stepped aside to let him pass. She watched him silently as he walked toward the front of the house and disappeared around the corner. When he was finally out of her range of vision, she let herself slump against the tall fir tree near the gazebo. “You are a fool,” she muttered under her breath. “And he is a bastard!” The tears started to flow again. How could he even think that she would stoop so low? How could he have misjudged her so? And how, in God’s name, how could he be so gentle and caring one minute and so ruthless the next?

It was past midnight when Erin found the strength to return to the loft that she had once shared with the man she still loved.

Twelve

An insistent, impatient knocking awoke Erin from a night whose fitful sleep had been interrupted by dismal nightmares. The dull ache in her head increased with each knock on her front door. “I’m coming,” she groaned, running her fingers through her tangled hair and hoping that her response would stop whoever it was from making any further racket.

Jerking on her peach-colored terry robe, she cinched the belt tightly around her waist and glanced haphazardly into the mirror over the bureau. The reflection that stared back at her was disheartening—the long, anxious night had taken its toll on her face. Large blue circles under her eyes intensified the pale, washed-out complexion of her face. The large eyes that had always sparkled seemed lifeless, and her black hair hung in tangled curls against her neck.

The pounding started up again. “I’m coming,” Erin repeated loudly, and wondered who would be calling so insistently at seven in the morning. The knocking subsided for a minute. Erin half expected to see Kane when she opened the door and braced herself for whatever confrontation might occur when she came face-to-face with him. “Just a minute,” she called through the wood panels, and tugged the door open.

What she hadn’t expected to see on her doorstep—not in a million years—was Lee. His blond hair was meticulously combed and his blue eyes were as brilliant as ever, perhaps even more so. He was perched atop the polished wood railing of the landing. One arm was bent around a carved banister to aid his balance. His casual slouch, accented by faded jeans and a lightweight sport shirt was a theatrical display of relaxation by design, belied only by the tiny muscle that worked constantly near the back of his jaw.