by Donna Vitek
"Jason?" Brice frowned, staring down at the tabletop thoughtfully. Then he shrugged. "I guess I really don't know a lot about him."
Katherine waited for him to tell what he did know, but when Brice said nothing more for several moments, she suppressed a frustrated sigh. Obviously, she was going to have to drag even the little information he had about Jason out of him. "Well, tell me what you do know," she finally prompted.
Still not looking at her, Brice smiled slightly to himself. "Jason's one of those mystery men we get in Tahoe occasionally. No one knows anything about him. Of course there are rumors circulating. Most people think he must have made the gambling circuit in Europe before coming here, but I've never talked to anybody who ever saw him anywhere over there. A couple of the boys flew in from Monte Carlo the other day but they'd never heard of him."
"I see," Katherine said musingly. "Well, what does it mean that nobody's ever heard of him? That he probably just started gambling professionally?"
Brice actually chuckled, a rare reaction coming from him. "I don't think he's a novice, Kit. He's much too cool. If he'd just started gambling professionally, he'd be out to make a reputation for himself. He'd make sure he was in every big game around. But Jason misses quite a few."
"Maybe he's just at one of the other casinos when he's not at Cedars."
Brice shook his head. "No, we always hear about it when he's in a game somewhere else. Jason's been the big winner here for the past two months so everything he does is news. He just isn't interested in playing in all the big games, which of course makes everybody in Tahoe even more curious about him. Half the showgirls in the revue at Cedars would give a month's salary to find out about his personal life."
Katherine leaned forward, her arms resting on the table, unable to hide her interest. "You mean he's never been out with any of the girls?"
"Oh, one or two have been out with him, not that it did them any good. He didn't tell them anything about himself. He's pretty much of a loner."
"He didn't seem like a loner to me," Katherine mused aloud, then blushed as her father shot her a sharp look. She gestured nervously. "Well, what I mean is he…"
"Why are you so interested in Jason Roarke anyway?" Brice questioned, his green eyes hard as they flicked over her. "Or more to the point, how do you even know who he is?"
"Oh, you know, I served the drinks to that private game he was in Tuesday," Katherine said evasively. "Remember?"
Brice nodded gravely. "I remember, but I still don't understand why you're so interested in him after only seeing him that one time."
"Well, actually, I did see him again," Katherine murmured, examining her fingernails closely. "When I was on the beach Tuesday afternoon, he joined me and we talked for a little while."
Brice's jaw tightened. "Obviously no accidental meeting since there's no continuous stretch of sand between our beach and his. I imagine he saw you there from his deck and went to all the trouble of walking through the woods to join you. Why did he do that, Kit?"
"I really don't know why," she answered honestly, baffled by her father's sharp inquisition. "Maybe he just wanted to talk to somebody."
"I doubt that. Did he ask you out, Kit? If he did, I hope you refused."
Thoroughly confused, Katherine tilted her head to one side inquiringly. "He didn't ask me out. But if he were to sometime, why would you want me to refuse? I don't understand. Don't you like him?"
"I like Jason Roarke just fine," Brice said stiffly. "I simply don't want you getting involved with him. He's at least eleven or twelve years older than you."
"That's not a vast age difference," Katherine argued, oddly irritated that her father was now telling her who she shouldn't see after all the years of not caring what she did. She thrust out her chin defiantly. "I can't see why you'd hold twelve years against him."
"It isn't the years so much, Kit," Brice said, his tone gentling somewhat. "It's more the difference in experiences. You're only twenty-one and I'm sure Jason Roarke is accustomed to women who are more mature and sophisticated than you are. I just don't think it would be a good idea for you to get involved with a man like him."
Katherine shook her head incredulously. "You know you're not making much sense, don't you? You're telling me I shouldn't get involved with a man like you because Jason is like you."
"Exactly, Kit," her father said, standing as he laid down his napkin. "That's why I know what I'm talking about. Jason Roarke isn't right for a girl like you because I wasn't right for your mother. And I'd hate for him to hurt you the way I hurt her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the casino."
As he turned and walked out of the kitchen, Katherine stared after him, barely able to believe she had heard him correctly. He felt guilty. And she had never thought that he did.
For the next hour, Katherine considered what her father had said and began to realize he might not be as one-dimensional as she had always believed. At least, he felt some regret for the way he had treated her mother, which made Katherine wonder if perhaps he regretted his treatment of her too. He hadn't ever shown her any real affection so she had assumed he was totally unfeeling. But now she had to wonder if there could be a tiny crack in that hard veneer of his after all.
That was the question she voiced to Jess Whitney when the secretary came to the house to pick up some papers for Brice about ten o'clock the same morning. Persuading the older woman to stay for a cup of coffee before returning to the casino, Katherine positioned herself on the white sofa in the living room. "Does my father ever talk to you about me?" she asked abruptly.
After taking a cautious sip of her steaming coffee, Jess nodded, smiling. "Well, you know Brice isn't exactly a chatterbox, but he does talk about you more than anyone or anything else."
"What does he say?" Katherine murmured, almost afraid to hear. "What does he think of me?"
"He's proud of you, Kit," Jess said gently, then when she saw the doubt in Katherine's face, added, "Really, he is. He thinks you're a lovely, intelligent girl. And he loves you."
"Has he ever told you that? Or are you just assuming he does?"
"I'm not assuming anything. I know Brice loves you," Jess said firmly. "He doesn't have to say it in words; it's obvious you mean a great deal to him. And you should know that, Kit."
"But I don't feel that loved," Katherine explained, giving a lost little smile. "He never talks to me, never touches me. Every summer I feel like he only has me here because he thinks he should, that it's his responsibility."
"The two of you simply don't communicate at all, do you?" Jess asked sympathetically. "You're so shy and Brice… well, it's just so difficult for him to show his emotions. I guess he's really shy too."
"My father?" Katherine exclaimed incredulously. "Oh, I can't believe he's shy. If he was, he'd never run a casino or have so many women in his life."
Jess shook her head. "That's not necessarily true, Kit. Some people lead very superficial lives simply because they're too shy to really commit themselves to other people. It's much safer not to get involved. Of course, it's much lonelier, too. Your father is a lonely man, whether you recognize that fact or not."
Katherine couldn't argue. She had known people who only skimmed over the surface of their lives, who never sought any deeper meaning to their existence because they were scared. Yet, she had never thought of her father as being one of them, perhaps because she needed far too much from him to be objective when he never gave it. Even now, she told herself that Jess could be the one who was wrong about him. He could be totally unfeeling. It would be nice if they could start communicating so she could find out about him one way or the other. And perhaps it was up to her to try to get closer to him, if he would allow her to.
"Well, I have to get back to the office with these papers," Jess declared softly, intruding on Katherine's pensive thoughts. Standing, she smiled. "You know, Kit, you're such a sweet girl. I think I'll introduce you to my brother. He arrives tomorrow to spend the next two weeks wit
h me and maybe you and he could keep each other company while he's here. His name is Brad."
"I didn't even know you had a brother."
"He's much younger than I. Twenty-seven, to be exact." Jess grimaced comically. "Of course, he seems to think he's supposed to supervise me. He's constantly harassing me to leave Tahoe and Brice and try to make a more secure life for myself somewhere else. Though I know he means well, I do get sick of his advice. So you'd be doing me a real favor by keeping him entertained while he's here."
Standing also, Katherine shifted her feet uncomfortably, barely aware of Jess's last words. She was more concerned with her remark about being sick of unwanted advice. "Look, I… hope I didn't make you mad Tuesday, when I told you I thought you should get away from my father. I shouldn't have said anything; it wasn't my business and…"
"Kit, I can stand to hear well-meaning advice once or twice," Jess said wryly. "It's the ceaseless sermonizing I can't abide. So no, you didn't make me mad. Actually, it was nice to realize you care about whether I'm happy or not."
Smiling, Katherine escorted Jess to the door where the older woman hesitated, gesturing uncertainly. "Look, why don't I just even the score and give you some advice you might not want to hear. Give Brice another chance, Kit. Try to see him through less resentful eyes. Oh, I know he's never given you much reason to think he loves you, but that's only because he doesn't know how to tell you. He does love you, though, and if you could begin to see that, both of you would be so much happier. Think about it, all right?"
"I've already started," Katherine admitted, returning Jess's pleased smile.
That afternoon, Katherine explored the wooded slopes above the secondary road. Wildflower manual in hand, she searched for some of the varieties she had found last June and for new ones to identify. At the edge of a thicket of trees bordering a meadow, she discovered a carpet of sky pilots, clusters of deep blue, violet-like flowers. In the meadow itself, she found her favorite from the year before, blue-eyed grass with blade-like stems and exquisite star flowers. Since they grew abundantly, she picked some and wrapped their stems in a damp paper towel to take home to put in a vase in her room. Crossing the meadow, she entered the woods again, examining a clump of pinkish white Alpine gentians, which grew at the base of an outcropping of rock, and she glanced around nervously, aware of the ever-present threat of rattlesnakes.
After recording her finds in a small notebook, she hiked on beneath the cool canopy of tall verdant pines interspersed with an occasional maple and oak tree. From where she walked, she caught glimpses between the trees of the mirror-bright blue lake shimmering in the sunlight. For a moment, even the gentle breeze stilled and she tried to imagine what these mountains had been like before gold had been discovered and men had flocked here in droves, seeking their fortunes and taking their toll of the unrivaled pristine beauty. Yet, it was still lovely here, despite man's presence and, smiling, Katherine stopped to examine the cornstalk-like leaves of some Solomon's seals. As she bent over them, touching a fingertip to a tiny, bell-shaped flower, she spied a patch of yellow peeking through the underbrush ahead of her. Her eyes widened in excitement as she realized she might have found a leopard lily, which she had somehow missed last year. Unmindful of the branches slapping her bare legs, she plowed through the brush, delighted to discover not one but three spotted lilies. But as she reached out to touch the delicate petals, she suddenly saw something slither on the ground beside her. She panicked. Biting back a scream, she straightened too fast and proceeded to trap herself there by entangling her long braid of hair in the tenacle-like branches of a bush. Unable to get away, she looked around frantically, terrified she would find an entire family of reptilian monsters poised to strike at her feet. Even when she saw no sign of the snake, she was in a panic to escape. She yanked her braid from the viney branches, wincing as a few strands clung tenaciously and had to be extricated by trembling fingers.
After freeing herself completely, Katherine stumbled through the underbrush out onto the trail again, then wasted no time putting as much distance as possible between herself and the slithery, revolting creature. To add insult to injury, she tripped over an exposed tree root in her hasty undignified retreat. Muttering crossly, she landed on all fours, grinding the dark loamy soil into her knees and hands. She rose to her feet, surveying her scraped left knee, taking care not to brush her filthy hands against her crisp khaki shorts. More frustrated now than scared, she pushed an untidy strand of hair back from her temple with the back of her hand as she marched directly to one of the icy-cold mountain streams that fed the lake. Without soap, her ablutions were only partially successful and she flinched as the water stung her tender knee. Though she managed to cleanse her hands thoroughly, along with her uninjured knee, her scraped flesh still bore lingering traces of grime and would until she had a proper bath with soap and warm water.
Hot and bothered, she trudged down the trail, reaching the road about a half mile from her father's house. Leaning against the massive trunk of an ancient western juniper, she flexed her knee gingerly. Then knowing she wasn't going to get home by lounging around, she began walking.
She had hobbled along the curving road for about two hundred yards when a car slowed down behind her. Glancing back over her shoulder curiously, she squinted at the sunlight reflecting glaringly on the hood of a silver Jaguar. It wasn't until the car drew up along side her that she recognized the driver.
"Well, Kit, you look as if you need to be rescued," Jason Roarke declared, giving her a slow, lazy smile. "Care for a ride home?"
As he stopped the Jaguar on the shoulder beside her, Katherine gazed rather longingly at the black leather passenger seat. After her misadventure in the woods, she was hot and tired and in no mood to walk another step today. Yet she wondered how wise it would be to get into a car alone with him. He could be a dangerous man as she had discovered Tuesday afternoon. Still, it wasn't a long drive to her father's house and since she really didn't want to walk…
After opening the door and dropping into the leather bucket seat with a sigh of relief, Katherine rubbed her burning knee and glanced warily at Jason. Her cheeks grew pink as she met his appraising blue eyes. Why did he have to look so infuriatingly neat in white tennis shorts and white knit shirt when she looked like something the cat had dragged in? As his narrowed gaze traveled the length of her tensed body mercilessly and a smile tugged at the corners of his sensuously carved lips, she turned away hastily, unable to withstand such intense scrutiny.
"I didn't even know there were grizzlies up in those woods," Jason commented as he turned the Jaguar out onto the road again. "And I certainly didn't know you made a habit of wrestling them."
"Very funny," Katherine muttered defensively, automatically trying to smooth the strands of hair that had been pulled from her loose messy braid. Thrusting out her small chin, she glared at Jason indignantly. "I just hope your driving doesn't make me wish I was somewhere wrestling a grizzly. Since it doesn't bother you to take chances with your money, I wonder if you feel the same way about your life. Hopefully, you don't drive like a maniac."
Jason's laughter came from deep in his throat and he shot her a look of amused indulgence. "I assure you I'm a very careful driver. I leave the death defying stunts to race car drivers. Gambling with money is one thing. I've never had the desire to gamble my life. I enjoy living too much."
"I just bet you do," Katherine murmured disapprovingly, imagining his life was one long party. When her comment elicited no response, however, she looked up at him again, surprised to see that his expression had sobered.
"I get the impression that you don't care for gamblers," he said at last, glancing at her, his blue eyes intent. "Or is it just me you don't care for?"
"It's gamblers in general," Katherine answered honestly. "And it isn't that I don't care for them. It's just that I have no idea what makes them tick."
"Not even your father?" Jason questioned gently. "Don't you understand him?"
"I understand him least of all," Katherine responded stiffly, unaware of the detectable hint of bitterness in her tone. "Of course, he's not the easiest person in the world to get to know. I suppose no gambler is."
"Don't make hasty generalizations," Jason cautioned. "All gamblers aren't alike, Kit. For example, I'd be happy to let you get to know me better, if only you'd give yourself a chance."
There was a suggestive note in his deep voice that set her pulses pounding. Chewing her lower lip, she clenched her hands together in her lap to still their ridiculous shakiness and stared out her window. Then as the Jaguar zipped right past her father's house, her eyes widened and she spun around in her seat to face Jason again. "You missed the drive!"
"So I did," he drawled laconically, glancing at her, laughter dancing in his eyes. "Don't look at me like I've abducted you for some nefarious purpose, Kit. I'm only taking you to my house."
"But I don't want to go to your house!" she exclaimed softly, an odd mixture of fear and excitement causing her heart to thud jerkily. "I need to go home and bandage my knee. See, I scraped it."
He nodded, glancing over at her again. But it was on the smooth length of her slender thigh, not her injured knee, that his gaze lingered. "I noticed you'd hurt yourself," he murmured at last. "But we can attend to your knee at my house." He lifted a silencing hand as she opened her mouth to protest. "No need to thank me. I'll be happy to play medic. Besides, I have your towel and book and I'm sure you want them back."
He was incorrigible, Katherine thought with a toss of her head as she looked away from him.
"Well, don't you want them back?" he persisted. "Or had you forgotten I took them after you deserted me on the beach Tuesday afternoon? Why did you leave like that anyway? You should have awakened me."
Ignoring his last words, she glared at him, appalled by the effortless way he could arouse all sorts of violent emotions in her. "I haven't forgotten you took my book, Mr. Roarke. I'd only read half of it so, of course, I want it back. I'd like to see how it ends."
