In a flash of memory that day returned. Katia had been nineteen at the time; it was the spring of her freshman year in college. She had gone from New York to spend the Memorial Day weekend with the families on the island before returning to take final exams and then a summer job in the city.
She had met a boy in school; John was a junior, very attractive, and very much enamored of her. Their relationship had reached the point where physical intimacy was the obvious next step.
All the other girls were doing it. Katia had wondered what it was like. She was attracted to John, but she had put him off repeatedly because Jordan was the one who held her heart. It was only natural that she would want Jordan to teach her what making love was all about.
Or so she reasoned when they found themselves alone one night on the beach. They had been up late talking and, on impulse, had stolen out for a midnight swim in the ocean. The waves had been challenging, and they had been exhausted when they finally flopped down, side by side, on the sand.
“That was great!” Katia gasped. “The water’s so cold … but invigorating!”
As breathless as she, Jordan rolled to his side and, propping himself on an elbow, looked down at her. “You’re great. Do you know that any other woman would have run back out after her toe touched the water? You’re a good sport, Katia Morell. Just about the best one I know.”
“Coming from you,” she teased as she caught her breath, “that’s a compliment. I thank you.”
“I’m not kidding.” He reached up and smoothed wet tendrils of hair from her cheeks. “You are a good sport. And you’re beautiful, too.”
Katia’s breath came faster again, and it had nothing to do with the lingering effects of the swim. “So are you,” she whispered as she looked into his eyes. The moonlight glistened off his wet lashes, his hair, his shoulders that were so very broad and suddenly looming directly over hers.
Then he lowered his head and kissed her. Oh, he’d kissed her before, but never like this. It started gently, as though he were sampling her, and apparently he liked what he found, so he opened his mouth and tasted more.
Katia was his for the devouring. For everything he did she returned it in kind. He was no longer like a brother, but a man, and she ached for him as only a woman could.
“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” he murmured hoarsely when at last he dragged his mouth from hers.
“From you,” she breathed. “Right now. Jordan, kiss me again.”
Her hands cupped his head and brought his lips back to hers, but he was ever the leader, the one in command. He explored her with his lips, his tongue, his teeth, and somewhere in the middle he slid his body fully over hers.
She loved his weight. She loved his firmness, the way the hair on his thighs abraded her smoother limbs, the way his middle pressed into her with each breath he took, the way he arched his back and slid a hand up her stomach until he was cupping her breast.
Her body was his. It swelled to his touch and begged for more. And when he peeled down the top of her tanksuit and closed his mouth over one very taut nipple, she cried out in wonder.
“Katia. Soft … sweet … Katia.”
She was arching her back, offering herself more fully to him. What he was doing to her sent spirals of fire to the tips of her toes, which curled into the sand as her thighs spread further apart. When he cupped the underside of her breast, plumped up her flesh and began to suckle even more deeply, the flame grew.
Katia needed the quenching that only Jordan could offer. “Make love to me, Jordan! Please. I want you so much!”
His tongue continued to lave her and she felt the swelling of his loins. But when she strained closer, he groaned, then stiffened. He raised his head, his breathing rough.
“You’re a virgin.”
“I don’t want to be. Not with you.”
He was up on rigid arms, his eyes sliding from her face to her naked breasts and back. He moaned and closed his eyes. “We can’t, Katia. It wouldn’t be right.”
“But you want me. I know you do!” On impulse, almost in desperation, she reached down to touch the proof of his desire, but he caught her hand before it had reached its goal.
“Don’t,” he commanded hoarsely. “I’ll lose control if you touch me.”
“I want you to lose control.”
“But I don’t! I’ll hate myself for it, and so will you.”
“Why?”
“Because … because…” He rolled off her and sat up, hugging his knees to his chest as he faced the ocean. “Because someday you’ll find a man to love you and take care of you and give you all the good things in life you deserve. And I don’t want to spoil that.”
“Spoil it? How could our making love now possibly do that?” She sat up, and feeling suddenly naked—and angry—she tugged her suit back into place. “Jordan, this is the nineteen-seventies! The double standard is passe. Women aren’t ‘ruined’ if they enjoy premarital sex! Men accept that; they’re flattered to know that their wives were desirous to others before them.”
His gaze speared her. “Is that what you’ve been learning at NYU? That you aren’t attractive unless you sleep around?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“No. I don’t want to ‘sleep around.’ All I want to do is to make love with you.” Though the fire within her had dimmed somewhat, the embers remained hot. “I want you to be the first. I want you to teach me. And if it’s my future you’re worried about, just think of how much better off I’ll be if I know the score rather than be some pathetic babe in the woods.”
“You want to know the score?” he gritted. Even the moonlight couldn’t soften the hardness of his features. “I’ll tell you the score. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen years old, and in the thirteen years since, I’ve slept with three times as many women as you’ve got fingers and toes. You don’t want to mess with me—”
“But it’s better that you’re experienced. You know what to do. You know what you like and you can show me everything.”
“I don’t want to mess with you!” he yelled, and in that instant Katia’s will died a cold death.
She stared at him, then swallowed hard. “I see,” she whispered at last, then bolted up and was halfway across the beach before Jordan made a lunge and stopped her.
“No, you don’t, damn it,” he managed between gritted teeth. She was twisting furiously, trying to free herself from his grip. “Hold still, Katia—”
“Let me go!” She alternately bucked at him with her shoulders and clawed at the sand for leverage. “You’ve had your say! Let me go!”
Firmly wrapping his arms around her from behind, Jordan rolled them both to a sitting position and anchored her between his legs. She might as well have been in a strait-jacket for the mobility he allowed her.
He bent his head until his cheek was pressed to her temple. “What I said came out the wrong way.” He spoke slowly, slightly unevenly. “The reason why I won’t make love to you has nothing to do with something being wrong with you—”
“I’m not good enough. I understa—” The abrupt tightening of his arms cut off her words.
“You are good enough. You’re too good. It’s me. I’m the problem. I’m not right for you, Katia. If I did what you want—” his voice grew husky, almost pained, “and I could in a minute, believe me, but if I did do it, and then next week, or next month, or next year something went wrong, or we had a falling out or something, it would spoil everything we have now. Don’t you see? I cherish you, Katia. I don’t want anything to come between us.”
She didn’t know what to say because his tone was so gentle, so caring and sincere, and she respected him so thoroughly, that she couldn’t fight him. But she was frustrated; her body still ached. She was disappointed. And hurt. She didn’t see why she couldn’t have it all. She didn’t see why anything would go wrong in a week or a month or a year. As far as she was concerned, she was more than ready to commit her
entire life to Jordan.
Apparently, he didn’t feel the same way about her.
His limbs squeezed her, but playfully. “Friends?” he murmured by her ear.
She brooded for a minute longer, then nodded.
“Good.” He hoisted them both to their feet. “Come on. Time to get back.”
She had gone with him then, saying good night to him in the kitchen and heading alone to her room. When she saw him the next morning she acted, as did he, as though nothing at all had happened on the beach. She had gone back to school. She had dated John, then other men. For a time after she had graduated she and Jordan had seen each other often enough to stretch the imagination and call it dating, but he had never touched her physically, and she had had too much pride to beg.
The pain and humiliation she had suffered that day on the beach had stayed with her through it all, even through the four years she had spent with Sean. It was the memory of the pain and humiliation that returned to her now as Jordan stood with her in her office, holding her tightly in his arms. In spite of the fact that she wanted him as much as she ever had, she slowly shook her head.
“On second thought,” she said quietly, “I think that ravishing me here and now on the floor isn’t such a good idea.” Carefully she extricated herself from his hold. Stepping back, she straightened her dress. “I’ve grown fussy with age. I prefer satin sheets and candlelight.” She took a resolute breath. “Sorry, bud. No go.”
Jordan released her at her first inclination. He had seen a lifetime of emotions pass through her eyes and for a minute he couldn’t speak, much less regain his bearings. But only for a minute.
“No go,” he repeated dumbly, then took a quick breath. “Okay. I won’t ravish you.” He returned his hands to his trousers pockets and studied her closely. “But I won’t give up on my plan. I want you to do the ad campaign for me. And if you refuse—”
“Don’t threaten me, Jordan.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were,” she insisted, but rather than accusation, her words held understanding. She knew Jordan well, so well. He was the way he was, and though it bothered her at times she loved him anyway. “You were just about to say that if I refuse you’ll go to my boss, and you know that he’ll jump at the chance to do your work.” She sighed. “I’ll do it, Jordan. But I want you to remember something.” Everything about her saddened. “A long time ago you argued against our involvement with each other because you thought that something might happen, that there might be some sort of falling out, and then we’d lose what we had. Well, I’m wondering if what you’re suggesting now might very well cause the same thing, and I just want you to know that I’ve warned you.”
Only then did Jordan realize that moments ago Katia’s mind had been back on the beach, ten years before.
“Nothing will happen,” he said with such force that she was startled.
“Are you that sure?”
“Yes. I won’t let anything happen.”
“Well then … I guess I have no choice.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She thought about that for a minute, finally looking up at him in helplessness. “Because you asked.”
“I’ve asked before and you’ve turned me down.”
“Maybe I am more secure now. Maybe I really do think I can handle it.”
In truth, what had happened was that during the short time Jordan had been in her office, she had realized that, for the first time, she wanted to be with him more than she was frightened of being hurt. And she had also gained a certain strength over the years. Hadn’t she been the one to step away from him this time? It had been torture, but there had been some satisfaction in it.
“But you will have to speak with my boss,” she added. “He makes the decisions on taking new clients.”
“There won’t be any problem.”
“No.”
“Good.” Jordan had expected to be ecstatic, yet something bothered him. He had the dreadful feeling that he had waited too long, that Katia had grown beyond his reach. Even the knowledge that it was for the best gave him little comfort. He wanted her. Damn it, he always had. In those split seconds of silence he cursed himself, cursed his father, cursed whatever fate it was that held Katia beyond his reach.
“Come on, Jordan,” Katia chided. “Where’s that victory grin?”
He flashed it, but it was without depth. It reminded Katia of similar grins she had seen over the years on the faces of Jack and Gil, which in turn reminded her of the families.
“How is everyone?” she asked. “I haven’t spoken with a soul since I’ve been back.” She felt guilty about that, but she had needed to work out her own feelings about Deborah and Mark’s deaths.
“They’re okay.”
“Your mother?”
“Back in Dover and carrying on as best she can. She spends most of her time trying to comfort Lenore.”
“And Jack and Gil?”
“What do you think?” Jordan returned dryly. “They’re back to business as usual. The House is in recess until after Labor Day, so Gil is cashing in on the time to muster whatever sympathy votes he can. My father is back to work with a vengeance. From what Nick says he’s been more of a tyrant than ever.”
“He’s upset.”
“He’s a bastard.”
“Ah, Jordan. That’s unfair. You saw him at the island. You know how upset he was by Mark’s death. So he’s taking it out on his work. I suppose he has to take it out on something.”
Jordan went to stand before the window. “You’d think he’d try to help his wife. She’s suffering, too. But no. The man is as selfish as they come. Jackson Whyte is the only person who counts.”
“It’s just his way,” Katia said softly. She came to stand by his side, looking up at his stormy features. “Have you talked with him at all?”
“We have very little to say to one another. You know that.”
“But he’s just lost one son. Maybe you could help him get over it.”
“He and I don’t see eye to eye on things. Never have. Never will.”
“You could try. You’re your own man now. Isn’t it much the same thing you were telling me a little while ago?”
“No, it’s not. With you I was thinking of time and maturity and experience. None of those have any bearing on the differences between my father and me. Our argument is strictly adult to adult.”
“You don’t like the way he treats your mother, but that’s nothing new, Jordan. Your feelings are subjective.”
“Damn right. She’s my mother.”
“She’s also an adult, and a thinking one, at that. If she were miserable with her life don’t you think she would do something about it?”
Jordan turned his head toward Katia. “She’s not … miserable. That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“It’s a matter of principle. She’s been loyal to him since the day they were married. She’s put up with his moods, with business upswings and downswings, with good times and bad, and you’d think that the least he could do would be to be there when she needs him.” He returned dark eyes to the city beyond the window. “Instead he buries himself in his work—probably along with one or two very attractive and willing young women.”
“At his age?”
“Damn right.”
Katia had no retort. She knew that Jack had had his flings over the years. She also knew that Jordan was right in feeling that Natalie deserved better. Still, Jack had to be hurting too, and Katia wished that Jordan could do something to help.
“You know, Jordan,” she began in a softly chiding voice, “a lot of what you hear could be pure rumor. Maybe if you got to know the man better you’d be able to separate rumor from truth. Maybe then you’d be able to understand what he’s feeling inside. It’s possible, just possible that he’s not as callous as you think.”
A grunt from Jordan was the only answer she got
, so she persisted.
“How long has it been since the two of you really talked?”
“Eight years,” Jordan said without hesitation. “And that particular ‘talk’ occurred right here in New York. He was in an accident; the cab he was riding in was hit by another car. Both he and his companion at the time were rushed to the hospital. Since I was the only one of us in the city, he called me in to see what I could do about hushing up the entire thing so that the world in general and my mother in particular would never know.”
Katia could just picture the scene. “You gave him hell.”
“Naturally. He deserved it. At least, I thought so. Not him, though. He wasn’t upset at being with another woman, just at being caught with one.”
“It probably cost him to call you.”
“Are you kidding? He thought I’d understand perfectly.” He forced his voice deeper in imitation of his father’s more gravelly drawl. “‘After all, Jordan, you, of all people, can appreciate a man’s needs.’”
Katia couldn’t resist. “Face it, Jordan. Your reputation preceded you.”
“But why me, ‘of all people’? I’d really tried to think the best of my father up until that time. I mean, I had suspicions, but I looked the other way.”
“You, ‘of all people,’ because you’ve had more than your share of women,” she said softly.
“Well, shit, I’m not married!” Jordan declared as he raked a hand through his hair. “If I were, I sure as hell wouldn’t be trotting from corral to corral like some kind of ageless stallion!”
Katia draped an arm around his waist and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I know. I know. And it’s just one of the ways you’re different from your father. But there are many ways in which you’re alike, and I suspect that one of them is the anguish you feel over the loss of someone close.” She paused for a minute. “Has anything come of the police investigation?”
Jordan wrapped his own arm around Katia’s waist, taking comfort in the closeness. “Nah. They’re as slow as molasses. Let me tell you, if I ran a business the way they run their investigations I’d be in bankruptcy court before I knew what hit me!”
Twilight Whispers Page 12
