“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat authoritatively, “I’d probably feel the need to search you again.”

His mouth took on an insolent slant that she remembered all too well. When she had first seen it, the arrogant expression had frightened her. Now she found that it caused her heart to pound with excitement.

“You surely wouldn’t want to be derelict in your duty,” she said solemnly.

“No. I couldn’t let that happen.” He brought his face down to hers again, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead he looked deeply into her eyes as he slipped his hand under her blazer. It lay warm and heavy against her chest, similar to the warm heaviness that centered in the lower part of her body and throbbed between her thighs. With agonizing slowness, he moved his hand downward.

Erin was held spellbound by the flashing sensations that radiated from his fingers through her blouse to her skin. His eyes impaled her. They held her in a tender, but avaricious, gaze. He couldn’t get enough of her.

His palm settled over her breast and molded it to his hand. Sensuously he began massaging her in a circular rhythm until he felt her become taut and firm in the center of his hand. The lips he was watching so hungrily parted and formed his name.

“You have two very feminine habits, Erin O’Shea,” he said with infinite softness. “One of them is this.” He brushed his thumb over the responsive crest. “The other is saying my name without really saying it. I find them both endearing.”

He left her only long enough to set free two

of her buttons. Then it was the flesh of his hand sliding over the lush curves. As gently as if he were undressing an infant, he pushed aside the wispy lace barrier of her bra and surrounded her with his hand.

She leaned forward, making herself fuller, more accessible to him. But never did their eyes waver. Hers became shuttered momentarily when his thumb began its own distinct finessing.

He leaned over her and placed his lips against her ear. After kissing it and the velvet, scented skin around it, he whispered, “Erin, God help me, but I want you.” His words were urgent, but if anything, his questing hand became more soothing.

Rolling her nipple between sensitive fingers, he asked, “Did I tell you what a pretty color you are? I can remember just what this feels like in my mouth, against my tongue, what you taste like. Right now, I want—”

The seat belt sign lit up and they heard the soft chimes that called attention to it. Lance’s breath was expulsed near her ear with a muffled curse. He eased away from her and, protecting her with his body, rebuttoned her blouse before returning to sit straight in his own seat.

She reached out tentatively to touch his arm, but he hissed, “Don’t touch me.” When he saw her hurt expression, he smiled. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that it may take a minute or two for me to become decent again?” He looked at her with a lopsided grin until she caught his meaning. When she did, she jerked her hand back and faced the front of the airplane, not daring to move. He chuckled deeply.

Just when the wheels of the aircraft skidded to the runway, she looked at him shyly. “Lance, do you… do you think I’m terrible for acting so shamelessly in light of what happened today? Am I a disgraceful person?”

His smile was gentle and sincere. “It’s been my experience over the years to watch the reactions of people in all sorts of chaotic situations. I’ve discovered that an emotional release from tension or grief can take myriad forms. Some people weep, or scream, or get angry. Others laugh uncontrollably. Some turn to love.” He paused significantly. “One emotion is as honest as the next, Erin.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Chapter Ten

“Hello, Aunt Reba. This is Erin. Is Mother there?”

“Erin! We were just talking about you. Are you back in Houston?”

“No. I’m calling from San Francisco.”

“Well, I won’t keep you. Your mother is dying to talk to you. Good-bye, dear.”

The funeral would take place in an hour, but Erin needed to talk to her mother so desperately that she took the time to place the long distance call.

Yesterday had been the grimmest day Erin had ever spent in her life. Melanie had decided not to delay Ken’s funeral. It was planned for four o’clock in the afternoon, barely allowing time for all the preparations to be made. The decision was a wise one, Erin thought. The sooner Melanie could restore her life to some semblance of normalcy, the better.

“Hello, Erin.” Merle O’Shea’s cheerful voice was like a balm on Erin’s wounded spirit.

“Mother, it’s so good to hear your voice. How are you?”

“I’m fine. But more to the point, how are you? You sound unhappy.”

That was all the encouragement Erin needed. The whole story came gushing out amid a torrent of tears. She began with her arrival on Ken Lyman’s doorstep and ended with the funeral taking place that afternoon. She sobbed brokenly into the telephone.

“Oh, my darling girl, I’m so sorry for you. I can’t even imagine how horrible this has all been. Especially when you were looking so forward to finding and meeting your brother.” Erin heard her mother’s voice crack. As always, when Erin was hurt, so was her adoptive mother. Erin hadn’t grown in her womb, but she had certainly grown in her heart.

“Is there something I can do? Would you like for me to come to San Francisco?”