by Helen Conrad
Jim was adamantly against Jace, and Kathy thought she understood why. She even agreed to a certain extent. Jace was the kind of man who set off danger signals in the system of any clear-thinking woman. He was too darn attractive for his own good.
The only thing that disappointed her was that Jim had so little faith in her ability to handle the temptation on her own. Her loyalty to Jim and to their goal was so important to her that she couldn't imagine what her life would be like without those things. Jim needed her to test his theories, but she needed Jim as well. She wouldn't jeopardize what they had, especially not for a short-lived fling with a man like Jace.
She'd been furious, outraged, when Jace had handed her the earring in front of Jim. She'd stuck it in her bag and turned to see how Jim was reacting, a thousand explanations on the tip of her tongue. But Jim's face showed he wanted to ignore the incident, so when Maxie called on his cell to tell him what was going on back at the home office in Destiny Bay, they were both relieved.
Sitting in the restaurant by herself, she thought she hated Jace for the earring stunt. But the moment she'd seen him, she knew hatred was not the emotion she was feeling. Jim definitely had a point in fearing Jace.
Mr. St. John was talking about his son's football career. Kathy joined Jace in making complimentary comments, enjoying the man's love of his boy. Jace talked about how much he liked visiting Utah, and Kathy told a few anecdotes of Utah history she’d read recently, stories that actually brought tears to the older man's eyes.
“I do love heroes,” he told them, reaching for a handkerchief. “People who stand for something, who tell the truth as they see it and stand by that truth, no matter what the consequences.” He sniffed into the white cloth.
Kathy glanced at Jace, wondering if he were feeling as uncomfortable as she was. After all, their “marriage” was basically his lie, although she had gone along with it. But Mr. St. John was too nice a man to lie to.
“I'm going to tell him,” she whispered to Jace.
He knew immediately what she meant. “Don't,” he whispered back.
“I have to,” she insisted, her eyes beseeching him to understand.
He hesitated, then shrugged. “Then do it,” he said roughly. “Get it over with.”
But before she got the chance, Mr. St. John was off on another tack.
“Say, do you two have little pet names for each other? You know, they say a marriage is stronger if you have little pet names for each other. I call my sweetie Toots, and she calls me Squeezums. How about you?”
Jace's smile was wan. He put an arm around Kathy's shoulders. “I call her Cuddles,” he said, grinning at her, “but she never answers.”
Kathy flashed him an answering glare. “And I call him Snake, as in snake in the grass.”
“Snake.” Harvey made a puzzled face. “That doesn't sound very loving.”
“No,” said Kathy, chin high. “It's not.”
Mr. St. John's face mirrored his dismay. “Oh no. Have I caught the two of you in the middle of a lovers' spat?”
Kathy didn't think she could stand any more of this. “Mr. St. John . . .” she began, leaning forward.
He waved a hand at her words. “Oh, call me Harvey.”
“Harvey . . . there's something I must tell you.”
“Tell away, darlin'.”
She looked down at her water glass, then back up at the jovial man. “I hate to tell you this. It's hard for me to say. ...”
He raised a hand, his friendly eyes snapping with sympathy. “Say no more. It's already forgotten.”
She blinked as he grinned at her.
“I know you were a bit snippy with me last night, and you said a few things that weren't too nice, but we all have our moments. I just take one look at that pretty face and it fades from my memory, believe me.”
“No, Mr. . . . Harvey, you don't understand.” She glanced sideways at Jace, shrugging helplessly. His face was grim, but surely he understood that she had to do this. “I ... I am not Mrs. Harper. I am not this man's wife.”
Harvey's eyebrows shot up. “I see.” He frowned, then shook his head and smiled at her. “Hold on, now, don't you feel so bad about it.” Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his. “It's a new age, darlin'. I can appreciate that. I don't much hold with this living together without the benefit of a wedding ceremony, but if it's what you and Jace think you need, well, who am I to say nay?”
Kathy sighed. “No, Harvey . . .”
He patted her hand comfortingly, then sent a piercing glance Jace's way. “I'm sure you're going to marry this little lady soon, aren't you, Jace?”
Jace sputtered into his drink. “I . . . uh . . .”
“Sure you are. All you need is a little push.” Harvey's twinkling blue eyes looked suddenly sharp and intelligent. “You two wait here,” he ordered as he rose and threw his napkin down on his plate. “I've got a couple of calls to make. I'll be right back.”
Kathy turned and looked at Jace as the older man left them alone.
“I'm sorry,” he said, before she had a chance to say a word. He took her hand, curling his own into the palm and looking deeply into her eyes. “I'm sorry for leaning on you last night. I'm sorry for barging in on your lunch. I'm sorry for giving you the earring the way I did.” He sighed. “And most of all, I'm sorry for making you a part of a lie. It obviously bothers you.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, it does.”
His dark blue eyes were troubled. “You know, everything I do with you seems to be wrong. I can't quite figure that out.”
“Lies tend to do that,” she noted.
He nodded, his gaze dropping to study the swell of her lower lip. “Do you like me?” he asked suddenly. “Even a little?”
She tried to hide her smile. “Well, since I'm trying not to lie any longer, I guess I'll have to tell the truth on that one.” She licked her lips, watching him. “Yes,” she said at last. “I like you—a little.”
His wide-open grin was her reward. “Good,” he said firmly. “Because I like you a lot.”
That shouldn't have made her glow as though she'd swallowed a firecracker—but it did.
Harvey was back and he was glowing too. The cat who swallowed the canary had probably looked very much like Harvey St. John did as he slid back down into his seat and grinned at the two of them.
“I've got a chopper coming over to the university helipad,” he said happily. “I want the two of you to be my guests. Go on out and take a look at that mountain property. See if it isn't perfect.”
Kathy's hand went to her throat. “Oh, I couldn't . . .” she began.
“Now, none of that, Missy. I want you to see my place. You're going to love it. And I won't take no for an answer.”
“But I've got a workout—”
“What time?” Jace cut in.
She blinked at him. “Five o'clock, but—”
“We'll be back by then, won't we, Harvey?”
Harvey beamed. “Sure you will.”
“I promise,” chimed in Jace. “I'll have you back and no one will be the wiser.”
She looked from Harvey's gigantic grin to Jace's earnest entreaty, and some little devil inside made her say, “Well, if you're sure. . . .” And then she knew she was lost.
The helicopter lifted off, and Kathy had the strange sensation of being swept away from reality into a fairy-tale land. They flew across the city and out into the countryside. White peaks appeared in the distance, coming closer every moment.
Jace was enjoying the view of the earth below. “Doesn't it look like a giant chessboard down there? I feel like a master chess player. I could move the pieces around at will.”
Kathy laughed as she looked over his shoulder. “You feel like the player. I feel more like the pawn.”
He turned to look at her, his blue eyes hazy with something she couldn't quite grasp. And then she realized what it was. He'd taken her statement to mean more than she'd meant it to. He really did think she w
as being manipulated by Jim Corbett.
That almost made her laugh. Jim hadn’t roped her into anything at all. In fact, she had been the one who had said, “Let’s do it!” from the first day she’d talked to him about his research and theories. Jace just didn’t get it. She was the one who wanted this. She was the one who needed it. Jim could always find someone else to work with. This was her only chance.
A moment later he was rummaging around in the baggage department, right behind their seats. “What have we got here?” He pulled out a basket. “It looks like Harvey wants to make sure we enjoy ourselves. Champagne, cheeses, crusty bread. A picnic.”
Kathy blanched. “But we just ate lunch.”
“No matter.” He turned to wink at her. “A picnic is a state of mind. You don't have to eat to enjoy it, but you do have to have all the right accouterments.”
They landed, swooping down into a clearing high up on the side of a tree-covered mountain.
“Here you are, Mrs. Harper,” the pilot shouted above the noise of the craft as he helped them down. “Mr. St. John told me to drop you here and come back to get you in three hours.” He grinned knowingly. “You're all alone. There's not another soul for almost a hundred miles. I'm leaving a transponder in case you have an emergency. But other than that, you'll be out of touch with civilization.”
His laughing eyes looked from Jace to Kathy and back again. “You two have a good time,” he said as he climbed back into the pilot's seat. “See you in three hours.”
Kathy and Jace ran to the cover of the trees to avoid the dust and wind of the departing helicopter. They waved to the pilot as the giant insect-like machine rose and drifted away. Then they looked at each other and laughed.
“Do you get the feeling Harvey thinks he's helping secure our 'match made in heaven'?” Jace asked.
“Obviously,” Kathy responded. “He's a sweet man.”
Jace looked chagrined. “I can be sweet too,” he said defensively. “Just try me.”
Kathy looked at him and laughed again. There was a spark of excitement between them. They were all alone here. She knew she should be cautious. Instead, she felt carefree and as light as the mountain air.
“Come on,” she said, “let's take a look at this place.” She whirled about and began to run toward the next stand of trees.
Jace caught up with her, taking her hand in his. They ran together for a short distance, then slowed to a walk as they came to another clearing. A view of the mountain range stretched out before them like a giant tapestry of a magic land.
“This is where the lodge would be,” he told her. “The first condos would be built over there along that bluff. With three ski lifts radiating down from right over there—”
“And the road coming in?”
“Right back behind where you're standing. A three-lane highway all the way up from Gramertown in the foothills.”
She looked at him questioningly. “It doesn’t bother you? Tearing a road into the wilderness like that?”
He laughed. “Are you kidding? Maybe you haven’t noticed, but there’s a hell of a lot of wilderness out there. I wouldn’t want it all torn up, sure. But there’s room for plenty of things out here. We haven’t come anywhere near to the limits yet.”
He still held her hand. She felt comforted by his warmth, but still a little wary as well. His hand was strong, hard. And just a little intimidating.
“Can you picture a winter's night here?” he asked her softly, pulling her closer to him. “Snow floating down. A roaring fire in the fireplace. You and me snuggled up in a down quilt in front of the fire.”
She gave an exquisite shiver and pulled away. “Is this really going to be yours? Are you going to build the whole thing?”
“If I decide to do it.”
She sighed, turning slowly to survey it all at once, the deep forest greens against a crystal sky, the rough granite, the slopes and crevasses. “It's paradise,” she said wistfully.
He touched her hair. “What do you think? Should I do it? You tell me.”
She looked at him, sure he was only joking. “That's up to you.”
But his eyes were dark and serious, and he took her hand again, bringing it up against his chest. She drew in a sharp breath when she realized she could feel the thump of his heartbeat through the light fabric of his cotton shirt.
“Would you promise to come here with me next winter if I do it?” he asked, his voice intense, too intense.
She didn't want to look into his eyes, but something compelled her to. “I can't promise that,” she said breathlessly.
“Promise me, and I'll sign the papers tonight.”
It was a line, she told herself. Of course it was a line. He was a playboy, self-confessed. He would say this or any other outrageous thing that came to mind, just for the fun of it. “I can't make a promise that far in advance. When will the lodge be built?”
“We could break ground next week if I say the word. It should be completed . . . well, give it two years to become fully functional.”
Why was he looking at her that way? She jerked her hand away and turned, looking at the view again.
“I love it up here in the mountains. The air is so pure, so clear. It feels as if the air is lighter here, you know what I mean? If I closed my eyes and wished real hard, I might just begin to float.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “That's what I love about it. It's like being in another world, far away from reality . . . responsibility . . . loyalties. . . .”
She grimaced and turned away from him. Everything they said seemed to end up on the same path back to things she didn't want to talk about. Or even think about right now. She didn't want to spoil their fantasy land.
“Do I hear a stream?” she asked, sure that the sound she heard must be that of tumbling water. “I'm going to investigate.”
She set off across the rocks, and he followed, more slowly, calling to her now and then. She called back, laughing, and disappeared among the trees. When he found her, she was sitting on a rock beside the stream.
“Why is water so endlessly fascinating?” she asked dreamily as he came up to sit beside her. “Whether it's in pools, or in waves breaking at the beach, or in rivers. ...”
“It's something primal,” he theorized. “It must have something to do with the flow of blood that sustains us.”
She made a face, and he picked up a stone and threw it into the rushing water. “I think it's soothing,” she said. “Mystically comforting.”
“We're ninety-eight percent water ourselves,” he responded. “So liking water is like liking yourself.”
“Oh!” She turned and grimaced at him. “How un-romantic!”
“Hey.” He stopped in mid-throw, the stone still in his hand. “You didn't tell me you wanted romance. That's a whole different thing.” Letting the stone fly, he turned to her, his eyes coolly assessing. “How much romance do you think you can handle, Kathy?”
She looked into his eyes for only a moment before turning her back to him and gazing into the water.
“I told you I wasn't going to get involved with you,” she said as firmly as she could. “And I meant it.”
“You didn't tell me,” he said softly, his fingers curling about the end of her thick blond braid. “Jim Corbett told me.” He gave her hair a gentle tug. “I don't think you feel the same way he does, do you?”
She closed her eyes. Feeling and thinking were two different things, and she wanted to be sure she had them straight here. “I don't want to get involved with you,” she repeated.
He lifted her braid, and suddenly she felt his lips brush the back of her neck. She shuddered, but she didn't pull away.
“What about last night?” he whispered, his face very close. “Didn't you get a little involved last night?”
She opened her eyes wide, but her back was still to him. “What do you mean?” she breathed, her heart beating very fast.
His tongue lightly traced a line along her neck. “You took me
home, Kathy. Remember? And put me to bed.” His lips were hot as he planted a kiss behind her ear. “There's only one thing I'm not sure of.” Another kiss, another nuzzle. “Did we make love?”
She jerked away from him, springing up from the rock. “Of all the . . . !” Outrage bristled from every pore. She glared at him. “Don't you even remember?”
He gazed up at her, all innocence. “You mean we did?” he asked as though awestruck.
Fury flashed from her silvery eyes. “No, we did not!” She shook a finger at him. “And if we had, you'd remember it!”
Moving faster than she could, he rose and grabbed her to him, laughing. “I'll bet I would,” he murmured, holding her struggling body close. “Now tell me again how you don't want to get involved with me.”
Kathy went very still. His body was hard and strong, as fascinating as any river could ever be. The sense of him swept over her, and everything inside turned to melting sensation. She held her breath, trying to quiet her pounding heart. If he ever realized how good this felt to her, she'd be sunk without a trace.
“Please don't, Jace,” she managed to say in a quavery voice.
Slowly, reluctantly, he released her. She reached out for the trunk of a sugar pine to steady herself.
“Okay,” he said, his hands deep in the pockets of his slacks. “You get another reprieve. Come back to the rock. I promise not to touch you again for ... oh, five or ten minutes. Okay?”
She gave him a wavery smile. “Okay.” And settled back down beside him. The stream still rushed by, unperturbed. She took a deep breath and tried to emulate its calm.
“Still wedded to the dream,” he muttered. “Tell me why you do it, Kathy. Tell me why this swimming, this winning at it again, is so important to you.”
She leaned down and trailed her fingers in the water. “Don't you remember how important it used to be to you?”
He watched her, watched the tip of her braid skim the surface of the rippling stream. “No.” He shook his head. “It really never was.” It wasn't easy to look back into the past and remember old hopes and dreams. They were like musty pages of an old manuscript with faded ink and pieces missing. It would be easier to throw the thing out and begin again from scratch.
