Kane’s hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. He could only hope that he was wrong and that someone else was the embezzler. God, how he hoped so. There were still a few more possibilities, but unfortunately, right now the evidence was stacking up very heavily against Erin O’Toole.

Angrily Kane pushed his disturbing thoughts aside and got out of the car. He was furious at himself, at Erin and particularly at Lee Sinclair, whoever the hell he was.

Erin had just placed the pan of lasagna in the oven when the doorbell rang. Before she could cross the room, the door swung open and thudded against the wall. Kane strode into the room and closed the door just as angrily as he had opened it. Erin had begun to smile, but when her eyes met his, her face froze. His gray eyes were guarded, a stormy fog clouding their depths. His casual clothes, the same ones he had been wearing earlier, were disheveled and his tie was loosened rather haphazardly. “Don’t you ever lock your door?” he muttered.

“Of course I do…but I was in a hurry…”

“That’s no excuse!” he rifled back at her.

Erin was confused by his only slightly suppressed anger, and she felt her temper rise to meet his. “Look, Kane, thanks for your concern, but it’s really not your problem.”

“It is my problem, when it concerns your safety.”

“I’m all right. I just forgot to latch the door. That’s not such a crime.”

A more contrite look softened his features. “I suppose you’re right,” he sighed, raking strong fingers through his coarse brown hair. “I didn’t mean to jump down your throat.” He walked over to her and brushed a light kiss across her forehead. “But I do wish that you would be more careful.”

“I’ll try,” she agreed in order to ease the tension that was building between them. She could see that he was beginning to relax, but the lines near the edge of his eyes looked deeper than they had this morning. She tried to tell herself that it was probably just the first day at the bank that had taken its toll on him, or possibly that he was concerned about Krista. But she couldn’t help feeling that there was a larger problem storming through his mind—a problem that concerned her.

“Would you like a drink?” Erin suggested.

“Oh.” He slapped a palm against his forehead. “I forgot the wine—something came up at the bank. Forgive me?”

He was teasing, Erin knew, but she could sense an inner turbulence below his light attempt at humor. “Consider yourself forgiven,” she agreed, “but my liquor cabinet isn’t all that great.”

Kane walked over to the cupboard that she indicated and searched through the bottles. “Saying that is being kind. It’s downright pathetic.”

“I don’t see that you have much room to complain, since you were the one who forgot the wine in the first place,” she reminded him, trying to suppress a smile.