Lightning cut through the night, followed by the rumble of thunder. Erin crossed her bedroom and went into the hall. The small night-lights glowed. She bent her wrist toward the illumination and checked the time. Eight-twenty.
When a second clap of thunder shook the house, she pushed open the door to Christie’s room and stepped inside.
“Are you doing okay, sweetie?” she asked quietly.
“Mommy?” Her daughter sounded sleepy. “I can see the lightning with my eyes closed.”
“I know.” Erin sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the little girl. Her hair was dark against the white pillowcase. She looked small and fragile in bed, with only her teddy to protect her from harm. “Are you frightened by the storm?”
“It’s just the clouds,” Christie said. “They’re talkin’ to each other. They can’t help it if their voices are really loud.”
Erin had never figured out where Christie had found this theory on thunderstorms, but as long as it kept her from being scared, it really didn’t matter.
“And the lightning?” she asked.
Christie yawned. “They’re passin’ notes.”
“Hmm, that’s what I thought.” She bent over and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to read in my room or watch TV downstairs. If you get frightened, you come get me. Promise?”
“Promise,” Christie murmured as her eyes drifted shut. She sighed softly, then fell back to sleep.
The storm raged around them but the innocent child was oblivious to its fury. Erin left the room and returned to her own. Once there she paced the length, then tried to find a book that sounded interesting.
She was restless. Maybe it was being cooped up in this house so much. Erin grimaced. Living in this huge mansion was hardly being “cooped up” anywhere, so it wasn’t that. But how else could she explain dull buzzing in the back of her mind and the urge to keep moving?
She crossed to the window and pulled open the heavy drapes. Rain battered against the windows. A flash of lightning arced through the night. She waited for the accompanying roar, and when it came, the panes rattled.
There shouldn’t be a problem, she told herself. Everything was settled. Last week she had agreed to stay for the summer so Parker could get to know Christie. Her daughter had been thrilled at the prospect. Erin had wondered if Christie might miss her friends, but apparently a few four-year-olds couldn’t compete with the excitement of a new house, a housekeeper who went out of her way to bake delicious things and a new father. Christie loved it here. Erin’s only regret about staying was how hard it was going to be to go home in September.
Leaving the drapes open, she went back to her dresser and studied the stack of books there. She and Kiki had made a trip to the local library. While Parker had an impressive selection of reading material, it didn’t include the latest mysteries and romances that Erin preferred. She ran her finger down the spines of the books, but none of them caught her fancy. Without wanting to-even as she told herself she shouldn’t-she opened the top drawer and pulled out Stacey’s diary.
Erin turned on the bedside lamp, then settled on the mattress. She flipped through the pages all the while wondering why she was torturing herself. Reading the diary made her feel foolish and inadequate. It brought up feelings that she didn’t like. Yet she felt compelled to read it, as if the pages somehow held a treasure she had yet to discover.
A sentence about a summer storm caught her attention. The passage was dated about three weeks after Stacey had moved in to the house.
The old house practically dances in the thunder. Oh, I’m laughing as I write this. Dances in the thunder? Gee, next I’ll take up writing depressing literary novels and go live in France. No, I won’t be going anywhere. If I had my way, I would stay here always. With Parker.
How he broods. Apparently his wife died a short time ago. He loved her and loves her still. I want to tell him that I can heal him. In my arms he can find…whatever he’s looking for.
Several sentences were scratched out, then the entry continued. I want to put on something sexy and feminine, go downstairs and find him. I want to dance with him and hold him. I want to make love to him. I want to belong to him. I think I love him.
Erin slammed the diary shut. Irritation warred with sadness. Stacey couldn’t help what she was feeling, but if she were here, Erin would shake some sense into her. Couldn’t her sister see that Parker truly mourned his wife? No amount of holding or dancing would make that kind of pain go away. It took time. But Stacey wouldn’t have been interested in reality. She only saw what she wanted to.
Poor Stacey. The relationship-if that’s what it could be called-had been doomed from the start. She’d taken a few truths and created an unreal world. She’d acted on it and had expected Parker to do the same.
Parker. Erin felt for him, too. He must have been in so much pain. His wife’s unexpected death had been recent. He’d needed a friend, not an overgrown adolescent throwing herself at him. If only he’d been able to tell Stacey the truth.
Erin set down the diary. Stacey wouldn’t have heard anything except what she wanted to hear.
She stood up and crossed to the mirror. The lights in the room illuminated her features. She studied them, seeing Stacey instead of herself. In her mind’s eye, her hair was longer, the scar on her forehead gone. She wondered if other people had this ability to step out of themselves and see someone else, or if it only happened to twins. Probably it was unique to twins. Other people rarely looked exactly like someone else. She blinked and the memory was gone. She was just herself again.
“You always leapt into things without thinking,” Erin said aloud, then smiled. She was in more trouble than she thought if she stood here waiting for an answer.
But she knew her sister well, and in her head she heard what Stacey would have said if she’d been there. Stacey would have rolled her eyes, planted her hands on her hips and said, “I might plunge forward, but you’re going to die waiting for the right moment. Quit waiting and do something. Act. Everything isn’t always perfect, so you have to take what you can get.”
Erin turned away from the mirror. Was Stacey right? Had she spent her life waiting for the right moment?
“I didn’t have much choice,” she said defensively. “I had Christie to think of.”
Or was that just an excuse?
Her thoughts made her uncomfortable. Erin turned off the lamp on the nightstand, then left the bedroom. She walked down the hallway to the stairs. The storm had lessened some, but according to the weather report, it would return later.
On the second story landing, she paused, trying to listen. Was Parker still in his office? He often worked after Christie went to bed. With Kiki usually gone, the evenings could get lonely. Sometimes Erin got tired of her own company. But she never went looking for Parker. She didn’t want to disturb him. Besides, what was she going to say? Entertain me? She shook her head and continued down the stairs.
There weren’t many lights on the first floor. A lamp in the corner of the huge living room cast a small glow on the hardwood floor, but it didn’t reach to the French doors leading out to the terrace. Erin stood in front of them and watched the storm. Rain flung itself against the glass. She wondered what the ocean looked like. Would the white, foamy waves crash high on the rocks, the spray exploding into the night? She licked her lips, as if she could taste the salt. The sense of restlessness returned and with it the need to do something.
“How’s Christie?” Parker asked from behind her.
She jumped and spun around. “You startled me,” she said, placing a hand on her chest. “I thought you were upstairs working.”
“Not tonight. I don’t want to risk losing power while I’m in the middle of something. I’m in the study, if you’d care to join me.”
He blended well with the darkness. His hair, his eyes, even his black jeans and boots. His white shirt was pale against his tanned skin. The shadows in the living room transformed his familiar features into something mysterious. Something otherworldly.
A shiver of anticipation raced through her. “Thank you,” she murmured, then followed him into the study.
She settled on a corner of the burgundy sofa, then nodded when he held up a decanter of brandy. A fire burned in the fireplace. Here the storm was far away. There weren’t even any windows. They could have been anywhere. They could have been the last two people in the world.
As he handed her the glass, their fingers touched. Erin felt the spark clear down to her toes. She didn’t know whether to swoon or break out into hysterical laughter. Both thoughts were equally unpleasant.
I’m not Stacey, and I refuse to act like her, she reminded herself. Bits of the diary floated through her brain. Phrases about desire and the storm, the night and the man.
Erin stared at Parker as he sat at the other end of the sofa. She was going insane. There was no other explanation for her reaction. Okay, there might be a couple. He was good-looking and charming. He turned her on in a big way. He reminded her that she hadn’t been with a man in years.
All of this would have been easier if Stacey hadn’t been here first. Erin didn’t want to relive her sister’s life at Hawkin’s Point. She didn’t want to have a crush and act like a fool. If Stacey hadn’t written all those things about Parker, Erin would have felt more comfortable experiencing her emotions without judging them. It wasn’t as if she was going to act on them.
But Stacey had been here first. She had written those things. Erin knew she was the sensible one and it made her uncomfortable to act like her impulsive twin.
Ignore it and it will go away, she told herself. Excellent advice that she was going to take, starting now.
“Does the storm frighten Christie?” he asked, placing his glass on the oak table in front of them.
“I checked on her a little bit ago. She’s fine. She thinks that the thunder is just the clouds talking to each other.”
He smiled. “She’s very creative.”
“I agree.” She took a sip of brandy. The liquid was warm and smooth as it slipped down her throat. “Is Kiki gone?” she asked.
“Of course. I don’t remember who she’s seeing tonight.”
“Your housekeeper is amazing.”
Parker leaned back in the corner of his sofa and stretched his arms along the back and side. The action pulled his shirt tight across his shoulders. She tried not to notice how masculine he looked sitting there, or how much she wanted to lean closer. She wished she could explain her reaction away as the result of too much brandy, but she’d only had the one sip.
“Kiki is her own person,” he said.
“How did you come to hire her?”
He grinned. “She brought brownies to the interview. Robin and I had already spoken with three or four women. They’d shown up in conservative dresses with sensible shoes. Kiki walked in wearing one of her bright jogging suits and carrying a plate of the brownies. After one bite we were hooked.” His smile faded. “She has her reasons for what she does.”
“The men you mean?”
He nodded.
Erin took another sip of her brandy. “I don’t judge her, Parker. Even if I didn’t know about the loss of her child, I wouldn’t be put off by what she does. If it makes her happy and doesn’t hurt anyone, then she should be free to do as she pleases.”
“Not everyone would be so open-minded.”
She shrugged. “They’re wrong.”
He leaned forward and picked up his glass. “You were an unmarried single parent. Did you ever have to do any explaining?”
“Not really. Once people knew that Christie was my sister’s child it was never an issue. Palmdale isn’t all that small but even if it were, it wouldn’t matter. The weather might not be my favorite, but the people are friendly.”
“Do you miss it?”
She met his gaze. His dark eyes held her captive. Maybe it was the night. Maybe it was the man. Maybe it was her ridiculous fantasies about him.
“No. Not really,” she said as the house shook and the lights flickered.
“Looks like we might lose power,” he said and stood up. He crossed to the mantel. There were several candles sitting beside some framed pictures of Robin and himself. He moved the candles to the coffee table, lit them, then returned to the sofa. “The night-lights upstairs have battery power if the electricity goes out. Christie won’t be in total darkness.”
“Good.”
He leaned forward and picked up his glass, then cradled it in his large hands. She stared at his fingers. Her mind was filled with erotic pictures. She tried to shake them off but it didn’t work. To distract herself, she imagined what Stacey would think of this evening and how she would romanticize their quiet time in the study.
Then Erin realized she didn’t want to think about her sister or what she’d felt for Parker. That was the past. She might be experiencing what Stacey had written about in her diary, but her emotions came from her own dealings with him. At least she was pretty sure they did. Everything was so confusing.
“What are you thinking about?” Parker asked. “You’re frowning.”
“Am I? I was just wondering…” She drew in a breath, then decided to tell him the truth. At least part of it. “Do you think of Stacey when you look at me?”
He was obviously startled by the question. He stiffened slightly, then stared at her face as if seeing her features for the first time.
“I did at first,” he said. “Being around you made me remember her more. But now I don’t really think about her when I see you. You’ve become two separate people. Does that make sense?”
“Yes. What do you remember about her?”
“Not a lot.” He took a drink of brandy. One corner of his mouth twisted down. “Obviously we were lovers, Christie is proof of that, but that doesn’t mean I knew her. I was drunk and she-Damn. Sorry, Erin. This isn’t what you want to hear.”
“I do if it’s the truth.” She set her glass on the table and leaned toward him. “I have her version of what happened. I’d like to know yours.”
“It’s not a great story.” He rubbed his right temple. “That summer is a blur for me. All the students blended together for the first few weeks. I missed Robin more than I could have believed possible.”
His confession tore at her heart. Parker had suffered greatly when he’d lost his wife. Erin wondered if she would ever have the courage to risk that kind of love and loss. She loved Christie more than life but she hadn’t had a choice in the matter. The moment she’d held the infant in her arms, her fate had been sealed. But loving a man required a conscious choice. At least that was her understanding. One didn’t just fall in love unexpectedly, without wanting to.
“That must have been a difficult summer for you,” she said.
“Yeah. It was. The first thing I noticed about Stacey was that she was there. Always there, in the background. I resented the students.” He grimaced. “Makes me quite the bastard, doesn’t it? I hated their laughter and jokes. I wanted everyone to feel as sad as I did.” He met her gaze. “I was very angry with your sister. I resented the fact that she was alive and Robin was dead.”
He’d stretched his left arm across the back of the sofa. His hand rested about a foot from her shoulder. She reached up and touched the back of his fingers. She ignored the sparks that singed her skin and the fact that he didn’t pull away. “You say that as if you now expect me to be angry with you.”
“Aren’t you? It wasn’t Stacey’s fault that she was alive.”
“It wasn’t your fault Robin was dead.”
He pulled his hand free, turned and faced the fire. After setting his glass on the coffee table he rested his elbows on his thighs and laced his fingers together between his knees. “Wasn’t it?”
“What are you saying?”
“Nothing. The past gets ugly sometimes. I’ve always regretted what happened with Stacey. At first I was angry and blamed her. She was just a kid, an inexperienced young woman who thought she saw something where there was nothing. I was cruel to her the morning…the morning after. I’m sorry for what I said.”
Erin wanted to ask for details. What had he said to Stacey? Her sister had hinted at some of it in her letter of apology. Something about Stacey not knowing what real love was. Had Stacey declared her feelings and then been rejected?
“I feel guilty, too,” she said.
Parker glanced at her. “You? What do you have to feel guilty about?”
“Not knowing. We were twins. We were supposed to have a connection that went beyond words. I knew something had happened while she was here, but when she didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t press her. I never knew she was pregnant. How could my twin sister have hidden that from me? Why didn’t I sense what was wrong?” She folded her arms over her chest and sighed. “I have always felt badly that Stacey went through it alone.”
“That’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
“So we’re going to argue over blame?”
“This conversation is too quiet to be an argument.”
She smiled slightly at his words. “I’m not the screaming type.”
“Me, either.” Some of the sadness faded from his gaze. “But I’d still change the past if I could.”
“What would you do differently?”
“I wouldn’t sleep with Stacey.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” she told him. “Please, don’t even wish that.”
“Why?”
“Because then Christie would never have been born.”
“You’re right. She’s a great kid.”
Erin scooted a little closer to him, then reached out to touch him. At the last minute, she pulled her hand away and rested it on her lap. He stared at the ground. She could see the muscles in his back and feel the heat of him.
“When we were growing up, Stacey was always the wild one,” she said. “She jumped into whatever we were doing. She wanted to experience everything and she didn’t worry about the consequences.”
“You’re more cautious,” he said.
“A little. I like to test the water first, figure out what I want. Wait for my turn.” You’re going to die waiting for your turn, a voice in her head whispered. It wasn’t true, she told herself. Caution wasn’t a bad thing. Not everyone had to seize what they wanted. There was more to life than being greedy and myopic.
“What if you don’t get your turn?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
The restlessness that had plagued her earlier returned. When was it going to be her time? When did she get to follow her dreams? She only had questions, not answers.
She grabbed her glass of brandy and finished it in a single swallow. The warmth flowed through her stomach and up her chest. The edges of her mind blurred a little and she knew the alcohol was starting to take effect. She’d never been much of a drinker.
“Another one?” he asked.
“No, thanks,” she said. “I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t fine. She wasn’t a lot of things, including Stacey.
She stood up suddenly and left the room. The storm still raged over the sea. The lightning had returned, plunging across the sky, leaving an earthshaking roar in its wake.
The night and the liquor worked together to leave her feeling confused. Longing filled her. Longing for what she’d given up and for what she’d never had. Forgotten needs swirled through her, stirring to life, reminding her that she was a woman, with a woman’s desires.
She closed her eyes, trying to force the images away, but they only intensified. She could see Parker as clearly as if he were standing in front of her. She could feel his dark gaze and the touch of his hands on her body. She ached for him.
It wasn’t real, she told herself. It was about the diary, or the night or something else. This couldn’t be happening. Nothing made sense.
“Erin, are you all right?” Parker asked as he came up behind her.
“I’m fine.” Her voice didn’t sound fine. In fact, it was shaking. Her whole body trembled.
“I didn’t mean to upset you earlier.”
She continued to stare out the window. She refused to turn and look at him. Lord knew what he would see on her face. If he knew how much she wanted him-The mortification would be more than she could stand.
Think logically, she told herself. If she hadn’t read the diary and known about Stacey’s unrequited crush would she be so concerned about her own attraction to Parker?
No.
Erin touched the cool glass in front of her. The trembling lessened and she was able to draw in a deep breath.
“You didn’t upset me,” she said quietly, her voice stronger.
“I did. I shouldn’t have said those things about your sister.”
Now that she had herself under control, she felt safer turning around to look at him. She pressed her back against the door so the chill would chase the heat from her body. They were both in shadows and she couldn’t make out his individual features. He was less than a foot in front of her.
“I know the truth about Stacey better than anyone,” she said. “The whole situation is a little confusing for both of us, so there are bound to be awkward moments. We’re going to have to learn to muddle through.”
“That’s my fault, too,” he said, then shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Damn.”
“What?” His fault? She was the one with the psychotic hormones.
“I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“What?”
“I have no excuse except that I like you. And it’s not about Stacey,” he added hastily. “She and I never talked the way you and I do. I didn’t know her, despite what happened. This is different. I’d tell you it’s because I haven’t seen an attractive woman in a while, but that’s not true. Kiki’s been parading them in front of me for years.”
“What?”
His dark gaze bore into hers. “So it must just be you. The problem is, I don’t know why. Worse, now it’s upsetting you.”
“What?” She was beginning to sound like a parrot, repeating the same word over and over.
“My attraction to you,” he said. “You sense it and it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Your what?” At least she was leaning against the glass doors. As her knees gave out, she had a way to support herself so she didn’t go sliding into a heap on the floor.
“Dammit, Erin, don’t you feel it, too?” he asked, then jerked his hands out of his pockets and grabbed her upper arms. His grip was firm but not punishing.
Her head spun as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. He was attracted to her? To her?
“Parker, I-”
She never got a chance to say what she was thinking. Not that it mattered. The moment his mouth touched hers, all rational thoughts fled her brain, leaving a void that filled with sensation.
This was not like that brief kiss before. The one that had left her breathless. Although this time she still couldn’t breathe, this was anything but brief.
His lips pressed against hers in an act of possession. Desire consumed her and she felt his flames, as well. The point of contact was combustion and the resulting explosion would blow them both away.
She didn’t remember reaching for him, but suddenly her hands were on his back and she could touch the muscles she’d admired. His lean strength rippled under her questing fingers. His shirt was smooth, his skin hot, his body pressed against hers from shoulder to knees.
His hands still held on to her arms, but instead of pushing her away, he drew her closer. Her breasts flattened against his chest. His mouth explored hers, learning the curve of her lips, tasting her, caressing her into mindlessness. His tongue probed gently. She parted for him, angling her head to admit him fully.
He was hot and sweet as he swept the delicate skin of her lower lip. When his tongue brushed hers, she felt the jolt ripple through her to the heat flaring between her thighs.
A painful ache began there and in her breasts. She tried to remember the last time she’d kissed, really kissed, a man. She tried to remember the last time she’d been aroused. A lifetime ago. Before Christie had come into her life.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer still. She could feel his arousal pressing against her belly. Her panties were damp, her nipples hard.
She slipped her hands up to his shoulders and clung to him. He cupped her face, holding her still as he plunged inside her mouth. He imitated the act of love. The power she felt in his quivering muscles made her weak with desire. He pressed kisses to her cheeks, her chin, her jaw. He bit her left earlobe, then rested his face against her neck and breathed her name.
Every part of her was ready for him. Every cell in her body ached for his touch, for the release that would follow. His arousal flexed once against her belly. She moaned and pressed closer.
Parker straightened. He tucked her hair behind her ears. She searched his face but it was too dark to see what he was thinking. The occasional flashes of lightning didn’t provide enough light and the glow of the lamp didn’t reach this far.
“I’m shaking,” he said huskily.
“Me, too.”
“I can’t do this.”
“I know.” She’d always known. He wasn’t for her. He wasn’t the one. He still loved Robin. Stacey confused things. Erin wasn’t ready to claim her turn.
He pressed a quick kiss on her forehead, then left her. She listened to the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. When she was alone, she touched her fingers to her throbbing mouth and told herself it was for the best. Getting involved with him would be silly. This was a temporary situation. At the end of the summer, she would return to her own life. It was enough to know, at least for tonight, he’d wanted her. Because wanting was so much safer than doing.
That’s what Stacey had never learned. Erin knew better. She wasn’t going to be Stacey all over again. She wasn’t going to make the mistake of falling in love with Parker Hamilton.