by Donna Vitek
Muttering a hoarse exclamation against her clinging tender lips, he dragged her hands from round his neck, guiding them down to the belt of his robe. "Untie it," he commanded ardently. "Please, Kit, let me love you."
This time, it was his careless use of the word "love" that brought her to her senses. He didn't love her, the remnants of her common sense screamed at her. But she was beginning to fall in love with him and if she allowed him to use her to assuage his purely physical needs, she knew she would be irrevocably hurt when he tired of her in the near future. The instinct for self-preservation suddenly overpowered the dizzying effects of his expert lovemaking. Fear exploded in her, the fear that she might have waited too late to be able to stop him. Inciting herself to panic, she struggled frantically beneath him, pushing at his hard muscular chest, begging, "Jason, I can't. I just can't go through with it. Please don't make me. Please."
He tensed, then with a muffled groan, rolled over onto his back, covering his eyes with his forearm.
As his breathing began to slow to a normal rate, her trembling ceased and in the debilitating silence, a dull heaviness settled on her. She was awaiting some word from him, but finally she could bear the ominous quiet in the room no longer. Foolishly, she laid her hand against his chest, murmuring, "I'm sorry. I…"
"No… don't touch me again," he commanded roughly, pushing her hand away. "And get off the bed before I decide to make love to you, with or without your consent."
She knew he meant it. She slipped hastily off the bed, dragging the straps of her dress back up over her shoulders, then reached behind her back to pull up the zipper. For a moment, she stared miserably at him, wondering how angry he was. He had every right to be furious. Leading him on, then saying no at the last minute had been despicable and she wasn't at all proud of herself. She took one step toward the bed, then hesitated, not knowing what she could say to him, almost relieved when he saved her the trouble by speaking first.
"Kit," he said tiredly, propping himself up on his elbows to look broodingly at her. "Go home."
She shook her head obstinately. "I won't. You need me to look after you."
"I'm much better now. I can take care of myself."
Breathing a sigh, she went to him, touching his forehead with the back of her hand. "Your temperature's up again."
He laughed humorlessly catching her hand and putting it away from him. "Any man's temperature would be up after what just happened here."
Massaging her temples, she gazed at him imploringly.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I just…"
"You're just young, Kit, too young and inexperienced for me. I wouldn't want to rush you into a relationship you're not ready for so…" He smiled indulgently at the pink color that suffused her cheeks. "I think you should go home now."
Nodding, she turned and walked to the door, halting before she stepped out into the hallway. "I'll be back to stay with you tonight, though."
"No!" he said harshly, relenting when her green eyes darkened unhappily. "No, don't come tonight, Kit. It wouldn't be wise for you to."
"But you're still not well and I am coming, about eight," she informed him stubbornly, then rushed away before he could force her to change her mind.
Jason wasn't a man to be easily defied, however, as Katherine learned that evening after dinner. As she was helping Mallie with the dishes, the phone rang. The housekeeper answered, then handed the receiver to Katherine. It was Jason.
"It won't be necessary for you to come tonight," he said flatly. "Someone else will stay here with me."
Katherine didn't believe him for a minute. "You're just saying that because you don't think I should come."
"I don't imagine your father thinks it's a very good idea, either," Jason muttered, his tone weary. "So just stay home, Kit. I do have someone to spend the night here."
"Who?" she challenged. "If someone's staying, you shouldn't mind telling me who it is."
There was a long pause, then Jason muttered rather reluctantly. "It's Julie; she'll be here all night."
Katherine felt as if a brick had been hurled against her chest. The intense, biting pain radiated through her, but she was determined not to give him any indication of the hurt he had inflicted. "Julie. That's the blond woman you were with at the restaurant," she stated flatly, then added in a suggestive tone, "Well, I'm sure she'll take very good care of you."
"No doubt," was his unabashed answer.
After whispering a rushed good-bye, Katherine replaced the receiver of the yellow wall phone, then stood immobile, staring at the floor.
"Anything the matter, honey?" Mallie asked gently. "You look mighty pale. Not bad news, I hope?"
"News I should have expected," Katherine answered cryptically, then hurried out of the kitchen, down the hall to her bedroom where she locked her door behind her. If she had needed proof that she meant nothing to Jason, his rejection of her tonight had certainly been it. "You should have known that all along, you nitwit," she muttered aloud as she flung herself across her bed. And though the pressure of tears she needed to shed built steadily behind her eyes, she refused to cry.
Chapter Six
A week later, Katherine was at the casino, having been drafted into service as a cocktail waitress again. This time, however, since she was needed from three in the afternoon until midnight, her father wanted her to wear a skimpy little black satin uniform. Eyeing herself in the mirror in the locker room, Katherine chewed her upper lip. She could hardly believe her own father wanted her to wear this. The rounded, besequined neckline plunged down to expose a generous portion of her full, uplifted breasts and the short, circular skirt barely grazed the tops of her thighs. She felt positively indecent though in actuality, she had more on now than she did when she wore her bikini. Yet, it was the principle of the matter or maybe her reluctance to parade around the casino in such scanty attire stemming from the fact that she had noticed Jason's silver Jaguar in the parking lot when she had driven in.
For some reason, she didn't want him to see her in this diminutive uniform though, to her embarrassment, he had seen her in less. Even so, to trot around him and all the other men in the casino would be humiliating, she was sure. She would be afraid he was seeing her as the rest of them did, as a fairly attractive body, scantily clad for their entertainment. She wanted to be more to Jason than a body he wanted to touch and possess. But she also knew that merely wanting that wouldn't make it true. Sighing heavily, she examined her reflection critically, then on impulse brought her hair forward over each shoulder so the long cascading tresses concealed the creamy skin of her bosom. There, that was better, she decided, smiling wryly, glad she hadn't cut her hair short as she had considered doing last year. At least, with it waist-long, she had something to hide behind.
Finally, she realized she could dawdle in the locker room no longer. Gathering up her courage, she ventured out onto the casino floor, feeling more than a little self-conscious as she started toward the bar. Her father stopped her between the keno and baccarat tables. After giving her one of his nervous little smiles, he looked her over carefully, then frowned. "You have pretty hair, Kit, but I don't think you need to wear it like a cloak," he criticized gently. Yet, when he lifted the waving auburn strands back over her shoulders, a startled expression flitted across his usually immobile features. "I didn't realize you'd… uh… filled out so much in the past year," he muttered uncomfortably, without meeting her eyes. "You don't look so much like a little girl anymore, Kit; you look more like a woman." A less objective survey of her followed as his eyes swept over her from head to toe. Then, amazingly, he drew her hair forward again, over her shoulders. "Maybe you were right; it suits you better this way."
As he walked away from her then, she stared after him, quite surprised that he had changed his mind. It actually seemed as if he were beginning to experience some paternal emotions toward her. First, he had warned her away from Jason, as if he feared for her innocence, and now he seeme
d to be saying he didn't want a bunch of strange men ogling his daughter's body. For the first time in her life, she really felt she had a father and it was such a poignant emotion that tears sprang to her eyes. Blinking them away, she went on to the bar to ask which section of the casino she had been assigned to serve.
Three hours later, Katherine was sent with a tray of drinks to one of the private rooms. Pausing before a full-length gilt edged mirror in the hallway, she grimaced disgustedly at the bruise that was developing on her right thigh. One very inebriated blackjack player had decided he had every right to manhandle her and before she could sidestep him, he had pinched her enthusiastically. It had taken all the self-control she could muster not to send him sprawling with a resounding slap, but she had held her anger in check and simply moved beyond his reach. Wishing she were on the beach by the lake, she went on to quietly open the door to the room where the private poker game was going on.
Her eyes were drawn immediately to Jason. Cool and composed as ever, he was sliding a stack of chips toward the center of the table, saying flatly, "See your thousand and raise you two." The man next to him uttered an explicit curse as he tossed his entire hand on the table. "Fold," he muttered irritably, watching Jason rake in all the chips from the center. Though he had obviously won a big pot, his expression didn't change one whit. The blue eyes that Katherine had seen ablaze with passion were cool and emotionless now. Yet, when he glanced up and saw her, a sudden light flickered in the azure depths. With a careless wave of his hand, he stood. "Deal me out this time."
Katherine cursed her racing heart and took an involuntary step backward as Jason came to where she stood by the door. His narrowed gaze drifted slowly over her, from flaming auburn hair to trim ankles and small slender feet ensconced in black satin high-heel shoes.
"You don't look so young to me now, Miss Delacorte," he murmured so only she could hear. Then as warm color rose in her cheeks, he laughed softly. "On second thought, you do."
"You're impossible," she muttered nervously. "You treat me like I'm thirteen."
"In sexual experience, you are about thirteen."
"Not since I met you," she retorted, an unwittingly provocative luminosity in her eyes. "You've given me a crash course."
"But you still haven't taken the final exam," he responded seriously, his teasing smile fading. "So you still have to consider yourself inexperienced. And I have to remember to consider that, too."
"Why? You haven't seen me in a week so I don't imagine you've thought of me in any way at all," she replied tautly, trying to conceal her resentment. But it was revealed all too clearly in her flashing eyes. "In other words: Out of sight, out of mind."
A muscle ticked in Jason's jaw and he moved closer, almost menacingly. "You wouldn't want that final exam before you're really ready for it, would you? If not, then it's probably wiser for us not to see each other."
"If that's the way you want it," she murmured, gazing down at his feet, veiling with the fringe of her lashes the pain she was certain must be mirrored in her eyes. Without looking up, she sidestepped him. "I'd better serve these drinks. Excuse me."
As she approached the table, the irritable man who had lost to Jason glared past Katherine at the younger man. "You going to proposition the girl or play poker, Roarke? We'd like a chance to win back some of our money."
"Deal me in," Jason replied calmly, going to take his seat again.
After serving the drinks and pouring a cup of coffee for Jason, Katherine escaped the room as quickly as possible without looking directly at him again. Unfortunately, that disturbing encounter was only a prelude to another. In the hall leading back to the casino, she met Julie, Jason's statuesque blond friend. Eyeing the empty tray Katherine carried, the older girl halted her with an upraised hand, inclining her head toward the closed door to the private room.
"How's it going in there?" she asked. "Jason winning again?"
"I think he is," Katherine answered flatly, dismayed to see that Julie was lovelier close up than she was at a distance. With warm brown eyes, platinum hair that was disgustingly natural, and a curvaceous figure, she looked like a Greek goddess. Katherine suddenly understood perfectly why Jason was no longer interested in seeing her anymore. With a woman like Julie at his beck and call, he certainly wouldn't want to waste his time on a twenty-one-year-old girl, too inhibited to give him what he needed. Resignation settled heavily, in Katherine and she was unable even to force a wan smile at the taller girl. She shrugged instead. "Of course, since I know very little about poker, he could just as easily be losing, as far as I know."
"Jason rarely loses," Julie said smugly, as if she were taking credit for his success. "But you should know that. You're a friend of his, aren't you? Didn't I see him talking to you in the restaurant at Harrah's the other night?"
"Jason and I know each other," Katherine answered shortly, her tone implying she had no desire to elaborate. "Casual acquaintances, I guess you might say."
Julie giggled rather sillily. "Well, you're a little too young to be anything but a casual acquaintance." She inspected Katherine thoroughly, then frowned. "In fact, you look too young to be a cocktail waitress. What did you do? Lie to the boss and tell him you were older?"
Tiring of the inquisition, beginning to lose her patience, Katherine silently counted to ten before saying, "The boss happens to be my father and since I'm only filling in without pay for one of the waitresses who's out, it doesn't matter how old I am."
"Oh, you're Brice's little girl!" Julie enthused, smiling condescendingly. "Well, it's a small world, isn't it, honey? Brice and I are old friends. He got me my first job here two years ago, as a dancer in the revue. We were very close for a while back then but… Oh, well, you know how it goes." She shrugged carelessly. "But still, I'm surprised Brice lets you fill in as a cocktail waitress. You can't be more than eighteen."
"I'm twenty-one," Katherine informed her, thrusting out her small chin. "And my father seems to think that's old enough."
"Well, maybe it's that long hair of yours that makes you look so much younger," Julie said, casting a faintly disparaging glance at the cascading auburn tresses. "If you cut it short or even wore it swept up, you'd probably look more your age. And with a little eye shadow and more mascara, you'd…"
"I'll keep your advice in mind," Katherine interrupted, wishing Julie would just be quiet and let her go on her way. Waving the empty tray hintingly, she added, "I imagine they're short-handed without me so I'd better get back to work."
"Sure, go ahead. I have to go too. I promised Jason I'd look in on his game before I had to start rehearsal. He says I bring him luck." Julie smiled suggestively, then lifted a limp hand in a wave. "See you around, kid. Okay?"
Not if I see you coming first, Katherine thought impatiently, though she nodded before turning away. As she marched down the hall, a grim smile appeared on her lips. She hoped Julie brought Jason rotten luck this evening. In fact, she hoped he lost every dime he had. Knowing that was highly unlikely, however, Katherine allowed net shoulders to sag. Jealousy built in her, turning her distaste for Julie into an emotion more akin to hatred. But, though she wanted to direct some of her intense animosity toward Jason, she was too realistic to try to deceive herself. What she felt for him was most assuredly not hate.
The day went from bad to worse. Less than two hours after Katherine's chat with Julie, she heard someone calling her name from across the casino. When she turned, she saw the aspiring singer she had met on the plane, Wendi Miller, beckoning to her excitedly. Having just delivered a trayful of drinks to the keno table, Katherine had no excuse to delay saying hello to Wendi. But the speculative gleam in the petite girl's eyes wasn't exactly encouraging as she walked across the crowded casino.
"I'll have you know I've been looking for you for the past five days," Wendi began almost irritably as soon as Katherine reached her. "I was beginning to think you'd fallen in the lake and drowned. Where have you been keeping yourself anyway? I've been in here e
very afternoon and evening, hoping I'd see you."
"I don't come to the casino any more than I have to," Katherine replied honestly. "The only reason I'm here today is because three of the cocktail waitresses are out sick with a virus. So my father drafted me."
Wendi's eyes lighted up when Katherine mentioned her father. "Didn't you tell me your old man manages this place?" she asked unnecessarily, feigning an uncertain frown. "Or was it somebody else I met whose father works at one of the ritzier hotels?"
"My father doesn't manage the hotel, just the casino."
Hoping to avoid what she knew was coming next, Katherine started to walk away. "Well, I have to get busy."
"But wait!" Wendi cried, catching her arm none too gently. "Now would be the perfect time for me to meet your father. Remember, when we talked on the plane, you promised to introduce me to him."
Katherine shook her head. "I don't recall promising that."
"Well, you did," Wendi lied outright, her delicate facial features hardening as she adjusted the barely decent bodice of her flashy orange print sundress. "You said if I was ever anywhere around Cedars, to look you up and you would introduce me to him."
Wendi had said on the plane she was willing to do anything to get a singing engagement and Katherine had believed her. For that reason, she wasn't eager to have the girl meet Brice, so she shook her head again. "Now's not a good time, Wendi, sorry. I'm sure my father's too busy to meet anyone."
