Page 50 of A Treasure Worth Seeking

She was gasping for air when Bart finally released her. “I’ve been waiting for a week for that,” he said happily.

Someone behind them cleared his throat, and Erin whirled around to see Lance leaning negligently in the doorway. His casual pose was deceptive. His blue eyes reflected a glacial sheen and his chin was tilted with the arrogance that had characterized him the first day she met him. His jaw resembled an iron trap clamped shut.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your… friend, Miss O’Shea?” he drawled.

She tried to catch his eyes, to plead with him for understanding and patience, but he ignored her. His eyes were riveted on Bart.

“Uh… Bart Stanton, this is Lance Barrett with the Treasury Department. Lance was in charge of Ken’s case.”

“Pleasure, Mr. Barrett,” Bart said heartily and crossed the distance between them to pump Lance’s hand with his usual exuberance.

“Stanton,” Lance said curtly.

Bart must have noticed the rebuff, for he withdrew his hand and slanted a shrewd, if puzzled, glance at Lance. “There was an unusual turn of events in this case, wasn’t there, Mr. Barrett?” Bart asked him conversationally. “Are all your cases this interesting?”

“No. This one was particularly… stimulating.” Lance leveled a sardonic gaze on Erin, who blushed to the roots of her hair. His choice of words left their interpretation wide open for speculation.

In self-defense she cried out, “I wish both of you would stop referring to my brother as a ‘case’! He’s dead.” She buried her face in her hands to hide the hurt she felt over Lance’s harsh and cruel words. Why was he behaving like this? A cold stone seemed to have replaced the heart that had beat against her breasts with strong passion.

Bart embraced her again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re right.” He patted her shoulder solicitously. “I’d like to meet your sister-in-law. Melanie? Is that it?”

Erin raised her head in sudden desperation. “She… she’s not here. She left last night after the funeral.”

“Left? What do you mean? She just left you here alone?”

Erin darted a panicked, beseeching glance at Lance. “Yes.” When she saw that Bart was about to speak again, she interrupted hurriedly. “Her parents are horrible people, Bart. She wanted to get away from them for a while. I didn’t blame her for leaving.”

“Well, I wish I’d known you were here alone. I would have come on over late last night when we first got in.”

Her knees went weak with the thought of Bart arriving while she and Lance were lying naked in each other’s arms in front of the fireplace. She gripped the edge of the hall table for support.

“I kept an eye on her, Mr. Stanton,” Lance said laconically. “I was up most of the night myself.”

The double entendre was so blatant that Erin didn’t think Bart could help but catch it. She closed her eyes in mortification.

Apparently Bart hadn’t heard Lance’s suggestive words with a guilty ear as she had. He was saying, “Sugar, you look plumb tuckered out. Are you sure you’re okay?”

She opened her eyes to see him leaning over her with concern stamped across his weather-creased face. “Yes,” she stammered shakily. “I’m just a little tired.”

“Now that Melanie is gone, there’s no reason for you to stick around, is there?” he questioned her softly.

She looked at Lance, whose composed, insouciant posture hadn’t changed. Yet she noticed that the muscles of his body were bunched with tension. Raising her eyes to his, she searched them deeply for some sign of the tenderness she had read in them before. There was none. They were cold and impersonal and as impenetrable as a metal shield between them.

She couldn’t leave now! She had to know what he was thinking. Last night had been heaven to both of them. It had to have been as earth-moving to him as it had been to her. He couldn’t have pretended that convincingly. If she left now, she would never know.

“Bart, I—” she started.

“Where’s your ring?”

Bart had taken her hand and noticed immediately the absence of the large diamond ring. Erin looked up at him wordlessly, grasping for an answer. It came from another source.

“She took it off because of me.”

She and Bart turned their heads in unison and stared at Lance. He was looking directly at Erin. Was he going to tell Bart about them? Yes! It would be cruel, but it would be clean. He was going to declare his love for her openly. Her heart burst with gratitude.

But as she studied him expectantly, she noticed that the eyes fixed on hers weren’t warm and soft with love, but cold with… what? Challenge? He waited for a long while before his lips curled with disdain, then he looked at Bart. “Since we didn’t know at first all the ramifications of Mr. Lyman’s crime, I thought it best that the ladies not wear such valuable jewelry. I requested that Miss O’Shea take off the ring for her own protection.”

It was an outrageous lie, but Bart seemed to consider the prevarication feasible. “Oh, I see. Thank you, Mr. Barrett.” He turned to face Erin who, in her frozen state, looked like a pillar of salt. “How long will it take you to pack your things?”

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