Page 22 of A Treasure Worth Seeking

Lance ignored Charlotte as if she hadn’t started to speak. “I have the full cooperation of the San Francisco Police Department. If you show up on that front porch again, I’ll call them and have you removed—by force if necessary. Leave. Now.”

His stance and bearing brooked no argument. Mike, who had remained silent and invisible during the entire scene, now seemed to materialize and moved behind the Winslows as though he intended to shepherd them out the door.

Charlotte drew herself up and stared at him with open contempt, threw daggers at Lance with her steely eyes, and then marched through the door. Her husband, equally haughty, followed. The front door was slammed shut with such emphasis that the etched glass window rattled under the impact.

Erin heard Lance mutter an unspeakable obscenity under his breath. Mike stomped out of the room toward the kitchen. Melanie came running to Erin.

“Erin, I’m so sorry. They insulted you and I feel terrible about it. I don’t know what makes them so mean! And the way they talk about Ken, just—just,” she burst into tears and turned to flee upstairs.

Erin cast a look toward Lance, but he didn’t see her. He was sitting behind the desk, leaning on his elbows, his face hidden in his hands. She ran after Melanie.

She found the young woman sprawled across her bed crying like a teen-ager over her first unrequited love. Erin consoled her with words that were somehow supplied to her unconsciously. She was certain nothing she said made any sense, but whatever inanities tumbled out of her mouth seemed to help restore Melanie. She looked up at Erin with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Did you say that you’ll stay here with me until Ken is found?” She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

“If you want me to, Melanie.”

“Oh yes, Erin. I need a friend who understands and shares my concern for him.”

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me.” Her heart turned over when she saw the gladness and relief breaking across Melanie’s tearstained face. “I’ll find a room in a hotel and will only be a telephone call away.”

“No, Erin. I want you to stay here with me. You’re settled into the guest room. Please stay here. Please.”

Erin gnawed her lip as she thought. Staying under this roof would put her in closer and constant contact with Lance, but Melanie’s needs had to take precedence over her avowed avoidance of him. After witnessing how she was treated by her parents, Erin knew more than ever how lost her sister-in-law must feel.

“Okay,” she agreed, trying not to let any of her reluctance show.

Melanie began planning all types of activities for them, but Erin urged her to lie down for a while and relax. Before she left her, Melanie was lying on her bed, breathing evenly, almost asleep.

When she walked in, Lance was alone in the living room. He looked up at her from the paper-strewn desk. For once his glasses were correctly positioned on the bridge of his nose and weren’t clinging to another part of his head like some misplaced appendage.

“Is she all right?” he asked.

Erin moved into the room and collapsed into a chair opposite the desk. “Yes, although it’s a wonder. I learned today that there is more than one form of child abuse. It’s a miracle that Melanie’s not a raving maniac.”

“I agree. We’ve had to spend as much time fighting them and patching up their amateur attempts to do our job as we have spent doing our job.” He almost smiled at his rambling sentence. “I’m going to try to keep them out of her hair as much as possible until this is settled.”

“Good,” Erin replied.

They were quiet for a moment and tried desperately not to look at each other. Erin knew from experience that her face was too expressive for her own good. She wore every emotion on her sleeve for all to see. That was particularly dangerous since Lance was so stoic.

After his eyes had taken several tours of the room, he said, “Tell me when you want to leave and I’ll have Mike make your flight arrangements if you haven’t already done so. I’ll have him escort you to the airport, too.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Barrett, but I’m not leaving.”

Chapter Six

Her words drummed into his ears and thundered in his head. He rebuked the surge of joy that raced through him. Most of the night and all day long, he had cursed himself for what he had done last night. That had been an incredibly stupid thing to do and he knew it.

He could justify that first kiss—maybe. He was putting a suspect on the spot to see how far she would go with a lie. But last night had been provoked by only one thing—lust.

He had told himself that when he saw her in the light of day, he would wonder why he had been so possessed by her last night. But it hadn’t been that way. The moment he saw her this morning, that same desire had invaded him, constricting his muscles and making him strain against his clothes.

Now as he looked at her, he was drowning in those damn brown eyes, and his blood was running so high he wanted to hurdle across the desk and take her in his arms and kiss her until she was breathless. He wanted to taste her mouth again, to marvel once more at the texture of her skin, to see by light what he had caressed and kissed in darkness.

He wanted to hear again that deep, low purring sound that had come from her throat when he kissed her breasts. It hadn’t been a noise that was rehearsed or conditioned, but rather was spontaneous and unconscious.

This was madness! Whatever happened to his cold impersonality, his enviable objectivity? Love ’em and leave ’em Barrett. His conscience had almost convinced him that one passionate kiss, one sensitive exploration would be enough, but it hadn’t been. Not nearly enough. He wanted her, all of her, with a desperation he hadn’t felt since adolescence. It’s impossible, Barrett! Impossible.

---