intense she could taste it. Maybe, just maybe, she thought, there was some feeling between them that could be nurtured into something stronger and infinitely more precious. If only he’d allow himself the chance.
His mouth left hers and charted a path to her earlobe. He caught the sensitive flesh between his teeth. His light stubble grazed her sensitive skin, and she shivered. His fingers worked on the buttons of her blouse, slowly undoing them. Cool air brushed across the upper slopes of her breasts, and her nipples tightened against the lacy webbing of her bra. He plucked at the sensitive tip through the sheer fabric until she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.
A vague but logical part of her brain intruded on the moment, a cold dose of reality. “Kane… We can’t do this. Not here.”
“Megan…” His mouth moved to hers. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked between kisses.
Lord help her, she knew what she wanted him to do, but the sound of approaching footsteps instantly cleared any lingering fog clouding her good judgment. “Kane,” she said, turning her head from his lips and pushing his shoulders. “We have to stop.”
His mouth landed on her neck, and he nuzzled her. “Come to my room tonight.”
She squirmed frantically, which only served to link their bodies more intimately. “We can’t, Kane… please stop-”
“Oh, my goodness!”
A woman’s shocked voice echoing from behind Kane accomplished what Megan hadn’t been able to. Megan shook her head, wanting to apologize to him, but panic choked her. Kane straightened, the desire in his gaze eclipsed by apprehension and a gut-wrenching degree of dread. With a tenderness that made her heart ache, he pulled the sides of her blouse together and covered her decently before turning to face the woman standing just inside the barn. He was more concerned about her reputation than his own obvious arousal.
He brought his hands to hips and narrowed his gaze. With a resilience that amazed Megan, he composed himself into that cold, distant man.
Quickly buttoning her blouse, Megan shifted her gaze, looking over his shoulder to the woman. She was short and stocky, with graying brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses. One hand held a briefcase. Cradled in her other arm was a clipboard. Megan squinted at the identification tag pinned to her plain blue dress. The only words she could discern were Dept. of Human Services in big, bold type across the top of the tag. Megan held back a groan of dismay. The woman was a social worker!
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Henderson?” Kane asked, his voice so cold, Megan was surprised the woman didn’t get frostbite.
Mrs. Henderson pursed her lips. She set her briefcase on the ground, then jotted a few notes on a piece of paper attached to her clipboard. “I was just following up on a complaint, but I can see for myself that we have a problem here.”
“How do you figure? This is my home, and what I do here is my business.”
The woman raised an incredulous brow. “Including consorting with females in the middle of the day with your son just outside this barn?”
As if realizing the implications of what they’d done, Kane swore vividly. “Did the Lindens send you?”
“That’s confidential information,” she said, lifting her chin haughtily.
Kane released a harsh breath. “Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve filed a complaint against me.”
The woman looked from Kane to Megan, eyeing her with a small degree of disdain. “Seems to me they had good reason.”
Kane swore again and scrubbed a hand roughly over his jaw. Guilt weighed heavily on Megan. She’d been responsible for what had transpired, or at least she’d been the instigating party. If she hadn’t challenged Kane and returned his kisses and caresses with such fervor, their escapade never would have gotten out of hand.
But it had, and they’d been caught And if she didn’t do something fast, Andrew would be the one to suffer the consequences.
She stepped next to Kane. He glared at her, tripling her guilt. He was furious, she knew. At her, himself and the situation. But beyond that green fire she witnessed fear and knew it was for Andrew’s welfare.
Megan glanced at the social worker, willing to take all the blame in order to protect the two people who’d come to mean so much to her. “Mrs. Henderson, this isn’t Kane’s fault-”
“He seemed a willing party, Ms…?”
Megan flushed. “Megan. Megan Sanders,” she said, watching as the woman made note of her name. “This isn’t what it seems.” Desperation laced her voice.
“Really?” The other woman scrutinized her with mocking curiosity. “Then maybe you’d like to explain what I saw?”
Suddenly, Megan realized how she must look after Kane’s passionate assault. Her hair fell in wild tangles around her face and shoulders, and her lips still tingled from his thorough kiss.
Her stomach flipped, and she scrambled for a plausible excuse. “I…we…” No believable explanation sprang readily to mind.
“Megan, leave it alone.” Kane’s voice was strong, steady and sure, despite the hard edge to his jaw. “Why don’t we go up to the house so we can discuss this?”
Mrs. Henderson nodded and picked up her briefcase. “That would be a good start.” Turning, she marched out of the barn.
With a long, resigned sigh, Kane started after her.
Megan grasped his sleeve, halting him. He met her gaze, and the worry shimmering there hit her like a fist to the midsection. What kind of penalty would he pay for their tryst, she wondered? Somehow, she knew it would be steep.
God, he probably hated her.
“Kane, surely that woman is only bluffing about the Lindens filing a complaint.” The desperation in her voice was real.
A bitter smile twisted his lips. “Just like everyone else in this town, Mrs. Henderson is in the Lindens’ pocket so deep-or rather,
“Oh, Kane, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, the words inadequate for the irreparable damage they might have done.
With a gentleness that made her heart ache, he brushed his knuckles across her smooth cheek. His eyes softened with regret, and a hint of a real smile touched his hard mouth. “So am I, Megan,” he murmured. “So am I.”
She watched him walk away, stunned at his display of tenderness and even more surprised that he didn’t blame her. The knowledge nearly made her cry in relief. But there wasn’t time, not with a social worker waiting to decide Andrew’s fate.
She exited the barn in time to see Kane talking to Andrew. As she approached the pair she heard Kane tell his son that he had to take care of business with Mrs. Henderson and that he needed Andrew to play outside for a while. Andrew didn’t look assured but obeyed his father.
In Kane’s living room, Mrs. Henderson set her briefcase on the floor next to the recliner. She kept her clipboard in hand, staring at Megan in obvious disapproval. Before Megan could sit on the sofa, Kane’s deep voice stopped her.
“Will you excuse us, Megan?”
Her first instinct was to protest. They’d both been a party to what happened in the barn, and if Mrs. Henderson’s reprimand affected Andrew, she wanted to be involved. But one look at Kane’s grim expression made her realize he had the most at stake and wanted to handle the situation alone.
Casting him an understanding look, she skirted the coffee table. “I’ll go get us some refreshments.”
She entered the kitchen and smacked herself on the forehead. “Refreshments, Megan?” she murmured as she sagged against the counter. “This is hardly a social call.”
Needing something to keep her busy, she filled a tray with glasses, lemonade and cookies, which took all of three minutes. Impatient and restless, she paced the kitchen floor. Unable to stand another moment of confinement, she stood by the doorway connecting the two rooms and strained to hear the conversation drifting
