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 passed over Erin’s neck, and Kane stooped to kiss it away, his lips brushing over the hollow of her throat. She shuddered, more from his delicate kiss than from the cool night air. Her knees buckled and he pulled her to him, but a blast from the ferry’s horn announced that they were docking. All too soon the jewellike lights of the city had blossomed into street lamps, and the intimate water journey was over.

They walked back to the car in silence, each absorbed in private thoughts. Erin wondered how she could possibly work for a man she needed so passionately as a woman. And what about his daughter, who blamed him for his wife’s death? And Mitch—could she bring up the subject of Mitch’s dismissal with Kane, or would it be the wedge that would come between them? For, as unlikely as it seemed, Erin was unwittingly beginning to look upon herself and Kane as a man and woman with a deep understanding of each other. But that’s crazy, the realistic side of her mind argued. You don’t even know the man.