Game of Chance

by Donna Vitek

  A rosy blush crept into Mallie's cheeks. "I meant to get that thing outa there before you got here. I'm sorry, child."

  "No need for you to be sorry," Katherine said with a toss of her head. "I know my father brings women here."

  Mallie gestured helplessly. "Now, mind you, I'm not saying I approve of his loose ways but he is a man, Kit, and men need… er… female companionship now and again. It's only natural."

  "And I suppose it's natural for men to flit from one woman to another, like a bee moves from flower to flower?" Katherine asked, unable to disguise her disgust. "Well, that's really charming."

  Mallie twisted her plump, gnarled hands in front of her. "Kit," she began gently, "your father is a lonely man."

  "Is he?" Katherine countered disbelievingly, flopping down onto the vanity seat. "I don't think he is. I think he's just shallow. He's quite content to satisfy his purely physical needs with these one-night stands of his. If he wanted something more, he could get it from Jess Whitney. But he doesn't want love. He doesn't even know what the word means."

  "Your daddy loves you, Kit," Mallie declared softly. "So I reckon he knows what the word means."

  Katherine shook her head obstinately. "I don't think he even loves me. Her certainly doesn't show it."

  "Some folks can't show how they feel. Your daddy's like that, but he loves you. Why else do you reckon he has you visit him every summer?"

  "Guilty conscience, maybe," Katherine answered with a careless shrug. "He did walk out on my mother and me when I was three, so maybe he thinks he owes me something, that he should at least pretend he cares something about me."

  "Mr. Brice is a strange man, child, and that's something you need to try to understand. Seems to me he's scared to tie himself down to one woman so he just changes girl friends as often as he changes his clothes. It's right sad, if you ask me."

  "It's right disgusting," Katherine said implacably. "But I've never really expected anything better from him. He's a gambler, isn't he? And gamblers just don't have any emotions. All they want out of life is a good time, wherever and whenever they can get it."

  "Honey, you're so young," Mallie admonished. "You just don't know the first thing about men."

  Katherine lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug again, then proceeded to remove the pins that confined her hair. Gold-streaked auburn tresses cascaded down nearly to her waist and after a quick thorough brushing, she began plaiting it into one long fat braid. Finished, she rose to her feet, that stubborn expression still on her face but she did lose most of her ill humor as Mallie regarded her with an approving smile.

  "Your daddy's going to be fighting young men off with a stick this summer," the housekeeper declared. "They're going to be lining up at the front door, wanting to take you out. You're so pretty."

  "Well, thank you for the compliment, but don't you believe you're a little prejudiced?" Katherine responded glibly, surveying her reflection in the full length mirror on her closet door. She supposed she looked presentable but she certainly couldn't consider herself pretty. She was a trifle too thin, despite the fairly generous swell of her breasts and the womanly curve of her hips. At least her legs were slender and shapely, she thought critically, but that wasn't enough to attract men in the vast numbers Mallie was predicting.

  "Considering the abundance of really glamorous girls around Tahoe, I don't think I'll be much in demand," she said wryly and without much concern. "I doubt I'll speak to any young men the whole summer."

  "Not if you hide yourself on that beach every day like you always do," Mallie agreed flatly. "You're too shy, Kit. You need to get out with other young people more."

  "I have plenty of friends in Baltimore," Katherine assured her. "I miss them during the summers, but I really don't mind so much not knowing anybody here."

  "It ain't right, though," Mallie persisted worriedly, handing Katherine her terry cloth beach jacket and a large beach towel. "I don't like to see you all alone all the time."

  "Being alone isn't so bad," Katherine said softly. "It's better than being with people you'd really rather not be with." Scooping up the paperback book she had been reading and a small bottle of sunscreen, Katherine started for her door, smiling back over her shoulder at the housekeeper. "Don't worry about me so, Mallie. Back home, I'm not a bit antisocial. It's only here that I prefer to be alone." When Mallie shook her head resignedly and finally smiled again, Katherine tossed up one hand in a wave. "Well, I can't wait a minute longer to go for a swim so I'm going down to the beach. But I'll be back in time to get ready for dinner."

  A moment later, outside on the narrow, twisting path that led through the stand of pine trees to the shore, Katherine paused, enjoying the calming silence broken only by the wind swaying the high cone-scattered branches and by the occasional clear notes of a singing bird. As she went on, her bare toes curled into the prickly carpet of pine needles, then she picked her way gingerly down the rough stone steps that led to the cove. Taking a deep breath of the sweet fresh air, she spread her towel on the coarse sand and lay down, planning to sunbathe for fifteen minutes or so before swimming.

  She had lain there for several minutes, half dozing, when she suddenly became aware that the sun was no longer glaring with such bright light against her closed eyelids. They fluttered open. Her green eyes widened as they traveled in bemused fascination over long muscular legs covered with fine dark brown hair, past lean hips clad in white swimming trunks and a broad muscular chest covered by a navy polo shirt. As her eyes darted up to meet a pair of obviously amused blue ones, the man who towered over her smiled, etching deep creases into lean tanned cheeks beside his sensuously curved mouth.

  With a soft startled gasp, Katherine struggled to sit up as he suddenly dropped down on his knees beside her on the towel. Though she instinctively crossed her arms across her breasts, she managed to regain sufficient composure to glare at the gambler—Jason. As he raked lean fingers lazily through the thickness of his sun-streaked sandy hair, he didn't seem aware of her indignant expression. He was far too busy allowing his narrowed gaze to rove over her from the thick glossy auburn hair swept back from her small face down to her slim ankles and small slender feet. When his blue eyes met her green ones again, and her cheeks darkened with color, he smiled indulgently and said softly, "Hello again, Kit."

  Indignation heightened the color in her cheeks. "You may call me Katherine or even Miss Delacorte," she said too primly. "But I wish you wouldn't call me Kit. It's my father's nickname for me and, to be honest, I've never particularly cared for it."

  "Pity. I like the name Kit and that's what I intend to call you," Jason said flatly. "Katherine's much too formal a name for a girl with a sprinkling of freckles across her nose."

  Shifting uncomfortably on the towel, Katherine had no idea how to handle this man. She didn't like the breathless tension he could create in her and she wanted him to go away and leave her alone. "What are you doing here?" she at last asked rudely. "This is a private beach."

  "Oh, I don't think Brice would mind my being here," Jason replied calmly. After making himself quite comfortable by leaning back on his elbows and stretching his long strong legs out in front of him, he smiled at her again. "You know, Kit, you're not a very friendly girl."

  "My mother told me never to talk to strangers," she retorted cuttingly, moving to the far edge of the beach towel. "And since I don't know you…"

  "Jason Roarke," he introduced himself casually. "And I'm not really a stranger, am I? At least you know I'm a friend of your father."

  Which is the main reason I want to avoid you, she longed to retort, but she didn't. Instead, she lifted her chin defiantly. "Why aren't you somewhere sleeping?" she asked tersely. "I would think you'd be exhausted after your all-night poker game."

  Jason Roarke stroked the strong line of his now clean-shaven jaw. "I was tired until I walked out on my balcony and saw you down here on the beach. Then I decided I wanted a swim before going to sleep."

  "You l
ive close by?" Katherine exclaimed softly, unaware of the dismay in her voice. "Close enough to see this cove from your balcony?"

  Turning, he looked up into the trees to the right of her father's property and inclined his head. "I live in the cedar A-frame on that narrow promontory."

  Katherine's gaze followed the line of his. Though the promontory was some distance away, it jutted out enough to afford him a splendid unobstructed view of the cove. Her stomach muscles tightened at the thought of him watching her from his balcony and she wondered how he could have recognized her from so far away. He must have terrific eyesight—or a pair of binoculars, she thought abruptly. Eyeing him with some suspicion, she edged herself closer to the far side of the towel. "Well, I suppose you were the big winner in your poker game," she murmured, for lack of anything better to say. "Did you teach the oil heir a lesson? Or does he still want to become a professional gambler?"

  "I think he's probably shelved that idea for a while," Jason replied flatly, scooping up a large handful of sand and allowing it to sift slowly between his long lean fingers. "He was the best poker player in his frat house at college so he got the mistaken notion that he could make it as a pro. But after last night and today, he'll probably be satisfied to go back home and become a vice-president in his father's oil company."

  Barely aware of what he was saying, Katherine stared at his sun-browned hands. Many gamblers she had seen over the years wore ostentatious diamond rings but Jason's fingers were mercifully bare. Actually, he wasn't like any gambler she had ever seen. There was too much warmth in his blue eyes. Of course, before he had noticed her during the game today, she had seen no emotion at all in the steely blue depths. Most gamblers couldn't turn that unfeeling look off and on at will, though. They always gazed at people with cold hard eyes and the fact that Jason was different intrigued her, despite the fact that she didn't even want to think about him. As she stared at him, a perplexed frown marring her smooth brow, she suddenly became aware that he was watching her intently, too. She blushed again and looked away hastily.

  "Well, are you going to lie here in the sun all afternoon and bake wrinkles into that very nice skin or are you going swimming?" Jason asked after stifling a yawn. "I think we should go for a swim."

  "I think you should go home and sleep," Katherine said nervously. "Especially if you plan to play poker again tonight."

  "Oh, but I don't. I always take a few days off between big games. So let's go for that swim, hmm?"

  "Be my guest," Katherine murmured without looking at him. "I think I'd like to sit here awhile longer before I go in."

  "Then I'll wait too," he said, propping himself up on only one elbow as he turned over onto his side to face her. "So what shall we do? If you happen to have a deck of cards with you, we could play strip poker."

  Katherine jerked her head around to stare at him, her eyes wide with astonishment. But she had no idea if his suggestion was serious or not because the steely blue depths of his were suddenly unreadable again. Thoroughly confused, she muttered, "Poker is one card game I've never played."

  "What do you play then?" he asked lazily. "Old Maid?"

  "I play bridge occasionally," she answered with an impatient sigh, though she had detected a teasing note in his deep voice. Somehow she had to find a way to get rid of this man before he made her so nervous that he ruined the rest of her day. Already, her heart was beating erratically and the closer he came to her, the harder the pulses in her temples pounded. It wasn't only the fact that he behaved like no gambler she had ever met that disturbed her. He was also so overwhelmingly masculine that she didn't feel exactly safe in this secluded cove with him. Her .anxious gaze moved over the broad expanse of his chest and she swallowed with difficulty. "Uh, why don't you just go on and have your swim. No need to wait for me," she said weakly. "I—I'd like to read for a while."

  "I think we should do something together and we can't read the same book at the same time. Unless," he added, his tone suggestive, reaching out toward the Gothic romance laying on the towel, "there are some spicy love scenes in here that you think we might enjoy reading aloud to each other."

  With a strangled protest, Katherine slapped his hand away and snatched up the book to thrust it beneath the towel. "Really, you're impossible," she murmured, her cheeks flaming. "Why should I want to read spicy love scenes with you, even if there were any in there?"

  A strange look came into his vivid blue eyes. He reached out to brush the hair-roughened back of his hand against her hot cheek. "Don't you know when someone's teasing you, Kit?" he asked softly. "I assure you I've long since passed the age when I underlined the sexy passages in books."

  She felt like a fool. Chewing her lower lip, she gazed at him, not knowing whether to apologize to him for reacting so adolescently or to simply let the incident pass.

  Jason made her decision for her. Rising to his feet, with the lithe ease of a big cat, he reached down for her hand and pulled her up to stand before him. Then he led her to the gently lapping edge of the water, his fingers pressing into the small of her back to urge her forward. She trembled at the oddly intimate physical contact and waded in, simply to escape his disturbing touch. Gasping as the amazingly cold water slapped against the sensitive skin of her thighs, she didn't give herself a chance to reconsider and dived beneath the placid surface. Coming up again for breath, she glided through the silky smooth water in a brisk scissor stroke until she began to feel warm again. Jason swam at some distance from her, barely disturbing the calm surface with his strong Australian crawl and Katherine watched him out of the corner of her eye as she paddled about lazily. When it seemed he wasn't going to come in her direction, she relaxed slightly and stretched out to float on her back beneath the warming sun.

  For fifteen minutes or so, she was alone. Then, suddenly, the peace was shattered. As two strong hands gripped her slender ankles, Katherine instinctively took a breath before she was unceremoniously dragged beneath the surface. Unafraid, she relaxed completely until those same strong hands spanned her bare waist. Then she struggled, resurfacing even as she pushed frantically at Jason's broad, hard chest. She could feel his heart beating steadily beneath her palms and she could see from the lazy smile curving his chiseled mouth that her efforts to escape him weren't bothering him one whit. She went limp, allowing him to keep them both afloat by treading water.

  "Now that's better, isn't it?" he asked softly, his narrowed gaze lingering on the enticing swell of her breasts above the bra of her swimsuit. "You should relax more often, Kit. You're such a tense, serious little girl."

  She couldn't look directly at him and when his fingers suddenly spread open over the curve of her hips, she stiffened again and foolishly renewed her struggles. Her kicking legs accidentally tangled with his and the brief contact with his upper thigh caused her breath to catch in her throat. Heat suffused her entire body and blazed crimson in her cheeks.

  Gently, Jason wound her long braid around one hand, tilting her head back. His eyes darkened to as deep a blue as the sapphire water surrounding them.

  "You're an enchanting little innocent, Kit," he murmured, his voice low and appealingly husky as he lowered his head.

  Before she realized what he meant to do, his firm mouth covered hers gently. His hand cupped the back of her head as his arm encircled her waist, drawing her nearer to him. A strange quickening warmth uncurled inside her and her lips parted breathlessly for an instant until the rough tip of his tongue grazed against her own. With a soft gasp, she pushed away from him and swam jerkily toward the beach. Once she reached the towel, she threw herself face down on it, trembling violently, then tensing again as Jason lowered himself down beside her, his hard thigh brushing against hers in the process. Her face buried in her folded arms, she didn't know what to say or do. She simply waited for him to make the first move, but when several minutes had passed and he had said nothing at all and had hardly moved, she lifted her head cautiously.

  He was stretched out on his back be
side her. His eyes were closed and he seemed ridiculously relaxed until she noticed his slow, steady breathing. He was asleep! Katherine's mouth nearly fell open as she stared at his attractive face. He really was an impossible man! How could he just attack her the way he had, then drop off to sleep as if nothing had happened, as if he didn't owe her an apology at the very least?

  Katherine's green eyes blazed with indignant fury as she jumped up and grabbed her beach jacket. Without looking back, she marched across the beach and up the stone steps to the path, leaving him there sound asleep on her towel.

  Chapter Three

  Two days later, on Thursday morning, Katherine watched her father across the table in the breakfast nook. Engrossed in his newspaper, he was nibbling one of Mallie's freshly baked croissants and sipping black coffee and his daughter had the distinct impression that he didn't even remember she was there. Last night at dinner, they had exhausted their annual topics of conversation. He had asked her how she liked college. She had told him it was all right and had given him a rundown of the courses she had taken and the ones she planned to take in the fall. He had inquired about her mother. She had told him she was fine. Then he had nodded and said very little else the rest of the evening. It was a ritual they repeated every summer, and long ago Katherine had realized that was likely to be the lengthiest discussion they would have during the entire two and a half months a year she was in Tahoe. He wasn't a talkative man and even as a young child, she had been too shy to try to initiate conversations with him. There hadn't seemed to be any common ground between them.

  This morning was somewhat different, however. As Brice folded his newspaper and laid it aside, giving Katherine one of those crooked uncomfortable smiles, her curiosity could no longer be contained. She blurted out impetuously, "What do you know about Jason Roarke?"