Page 54 of A Treasure Worth Seeking

Her resolve to remain cool and impersonal was vaporized when he seemed to invade this feminine domain with the masculine force of a rampaging vandal. She fell victim.

“Hello, Erin,” he said.

She should stand and walk toward him and take his hand, but she was afraid to leave her hiding place behind the desk. If she stood, he might detect her pregnancy.

“Hello, Lance,” she returned warmly. Her lips were quivering, but she was determined to appear cordial, as if greeting an old friend. “Come in and sit down.” She indicated the chair in front of her desk. “This is a surprise.”

He was just as aloof as she as he crossed the room, taking in the environs of the office with those penetrating eyes. There was no escaping them. She would stick to her wise decision and stay seated behind the desk.

“This is very nice, Erin,” he said, indicating the office with a sweeping gesture of his hand. “I’m impressed.”

He smiled at her as he took his seat, and her heart did an erratic dance. His teeth flashed whitely against his dark skin. He was devastating.

“Thank you. This isn’t our busiest time of year. Things slow down in the summer. We won’t be really active again until our clients start having fashion shows in the fall for the Christmas season.” She would be very pregnant by then. How would she manage that hectic pace?

“I probably should have called before I came, but I thought it would be better to see you in person.”

His words were almost verbatim what she had said to him when she arrived at the Lyman residence. He looked up at her. Did she remember? She did. They smiled at each other.

“You were right. I’m glad you came straight here,” she parroted what his response had been. Then they both laughed self-consciously. For a moment there was a tense silence as they looked at each other. Lance unbuttoned his coat and that triggered Erin’s next comment. “You look different.”

“How?”

“Your clothes. They’re not as… conservative as what you wore before.”

He had noticed her pause and smiled that sardonic smile that she well remembered. “You mean not as dull, don’t you?”

She laughed and admitted, “Yes, dull. Has the Treasury Department issued new uniforms?”

He shrugged and, watching her reaction to his words, said, “I don’t know. I don’t work for it anymore.”

She was stunned. “What?” Her eyes were wide with unasked questions.

“I resigned a while back. Actually I’m here today on my last official duty. I’ve gone into business for myself with another guy.”

“Lance…” she groped for words. “I don’t know what to say. Are you happy? Is that what you want? You were so good at your work.”

“Thank you.” He smiled. “I’m using my past experience for what I’m doing now. This friend of mine quit the department several years ago and started his own company. He goes into banks, businesses, whatever, and holds seminars on how to prevent and detect internal white-collar crimes. He also trains employees of said business on how to handle a criminal, like during a robbery or something.”

He raised the ankle of one foot to his opposite knee. “Anyway, he called me a few months ago. His business has gotten out of hand. He couldn’t handle all his clients and wanted to know if I’d be interested in joining him. It had been a while since he’d been out in the field and could use some of my expertise to update his material.”

He dropped his leg back to the floor and leaned forward, emphasizing his next words. “Erin, I’m amazed at how lucrative this business is. Corporations are willing to pay us a tremendous amount of money in order to save themselves much more. We’re making a lot of money and providing a valuable service at the same time.”

His enthusiasm was contagious and Erin was happy for his success. He was so much more relaxed, less wary, than she had ever seen him.

“To tell you the truth,” he said, “I grew disenchanted with my work after… San Francisco.” His voice had lowered in pitch and volume with his last two words and his eyes pierced through her from under the golden eyebrows.

It had been five months, yet any reference to Ken still brought a lump to Erin’s throat. His death before she could ever meet him was still a wound that opened frequently. She murmured, “I think I can understand that.”

“Do you hear often from Mrs. Lyman?”

Erin’s face brightened considerably. “Yes, Melanie moved to Oregon and got a job with a florist, which is a natural for her. I get frequent letters. She sold the house in San Francisco and loves her work and small apartment. Last week she called me, and I’m convinced she’ll be happy.” Erin was smiling mysteriously.

“Why?” he asked with a curious grin on his face. He was really interested.

“Well, as it happens there is a Mr. Alan Carter who owns a nursery that sells plants to the florist. He is a ‘sweet, nice man in his late twenties.’ ”

They both laughed over Melanie’s description. “He was widowed when his wife was suddenly and tragically killed a year and a half ago, and he was left with a two-year-old son.”

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