by Donna Vitek
As he left the room, Katherine flung the bills down as hard as she could, turning away before they could flutter to the floor. She muttered a muffled imprecation. So he thought he could force her to stay here with him while he allowed that bimbo to use him. Well, she'd show him. She didn't quite know how but she would.
Katherine spent the rest of the day at the lake, alternately sitting on the beach plotting revenge and swimming vigorously to expend nervous energy. For a while, she considered flying home to Baltimore immediately, then discarded that method of making her father sorry for what he was doing. Leaving wasn't the answer; that would make it too easy for him to continue living the way he did. She wanted to do something that would really make him sit up and take notice, something that would force him to reevaluate his own lifestyle. And at about four in the afternoon, the perfect idea hit Katherine like a bolt of lightning out of the blue. She laughed gleefully. She would fix him. Giving him back a little of his own medicine was the perfect solution.
After gathering up her beach paraphernalia, Katherine rushed back to the house and when she had washed her hair in the shower and toweled it partially dry, she took a suitcase from her closet and began to pack. When she had put in the clothing she thought she'd need, she placed her small collection of cosmetics into a zippered plastic-lined bag, then tucked it in a pocket of the suitcase. Then as she added an extra pair of shoes she thought she might need, Mallie knocked once on her door and came into the room.
Seeing the suitcase, the housekeeper frowned. "What are you up to?" she asked sharply. "You can't be meaning to leave?"
"That's exactly what I'm meaning to do," Katherine answered calmly, discarding her cotton robe to don denim cut-off shorts and a denim halter top. "And I'm sure you know why I'm leaving."
"I know you're upset with your daddy for bringing that no-account woman here and I ain't blaming you for feeling that way," Mallie said with a disapproving grunt. "I ain't never liked it for Mr. Brice to carry on with such women and I think it was mighty bad of him to take up with a new one while you're here. But I reckon he thinks you're grown up enough to accept his ways."
Katherine tossed her hand in an impatient gesture. "Well, I don't accept them and I never will."
"Good. But I still don't see how you're going to help things by running back home to your mama."
"But I'm not running back home to Mother, Mallie," Katherine said as she closed her suitcase. Then she looked up at the housekeeper, giving her a gentle smile. "Now, don't get upset when I tell you this. I plan to teach my father a lesson by moving in with a man."
Mallie nearly choked on a gasp and turned so red that Katherine had to pound her back before she could catch her breath. Then righteous indignation shook her entire body and her double chin trembled as she glared at Katherine imperiously. "You'll do no such thing, young lady. I never heard such talk in my life! Move in with a man, my foot! You'll not do it, if I have to sit on you to keep you here."
"You can't stop me, Mallie, my mind's made up," Katherine said flatly, going to take her suitcase off her bed. "If my father can bring Wendi into this house to stay, then I can go live with a man if I want to. I'm twenty-one. He can't stop me and neither can you."
Mallie changed her tactics. "But honey," she said cajolingly, "you can't do something so foolish. You're a good girl, just an innocent. You could get yourself in a heap of trouble, trying to pick up some man to move in with."
Katherine shook her head. "I don't plan to pick up anybody. I don't have to. I already have a particular man in mind."
"Who?" Mallie questioned suspiciously. "Not that big-time gambler, Roarke, or whatever his name is? The one you fretted so much over when he was sick?"
"That's the one," Katherine said airily. "But don't worry about me, Mallie. Jason has an extra bedroom in his house. And I just plan to stay long enough to give my father something to think about. As soon as he stops seeing Wendi, I'll come back again."
Mallie shook her head incredulously. "You really think a man like this Roarke fellow is going to let you move in with him and not expect something back from you? Kit, he's a man, ain't he?"
"He's not quite the ruthless wastrel you might think," Katherine found herself defending him. "If I explain why I want to stay at his house for a few days, I'm sure he'll cooperate without expecting… expecting, well, you know…"
"All I know is that man means something to you, child," Mallie said quietly, examining Katherine's face with keen perception. "I could see it in your eyes when he was sick. And if you think you're falling in love with him, it'll be a bad mistake for you to go live with him, even for a few days. If he wanted…"
"But I'm not falling in love with him!" Katherine protested too vehemently. "Where in the world did you get such a silly idea?"
"I wasn't born yesterday and your eyes are as easy to read as a book." Mallie shook her head indulgently. "I know that man means something to you and you're lying to me and maybe even to yourself if you say he doesn't."
Katherine sighed in surrender. "Okay, okay, maybe he does mean something to me. But I'm not in love with him. And even if I were, I'd never let him know it, so you don't have to worry that he might take advantage of me while I stay with him for a few days. He thinks I'm a child, anyway."
Mallie's intent gaze wandered along Katherine's long, slender, lightly tanned legs over the curve of her hips and upward past the narrow waist to the rounded fullness of her breasts. She smiled wryly. "I never heard this Jason Roarke is addle-brained, but he must be if he thinks you look like a child. Is that it? Is he a mite off in the head?"
"Of course he isn't. He's a very intelligent man." Switching her suitcase to her left hand, Katherine stopped on her way to the door to give Mallie a kiss. "Now, just stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself, but don't tell my father that. It'll do him good to worry about me a little. At least staying with Jason will force him to drop Wendi."
"Don't you go counting on that," Mallie warned. "I reckon you got your muleheadedness honestly. Mr. Brice is as stubborn as you are and then some. So don't you think you're going to win this fight easy."
"Well, I plan to stick it out until I do win because I'm not coming back here until Wendi's gone," Katherine said firmly, hesitating as she laid her hand on the doorknob. "She did go to the casino with him, didn't she? I certainly don't want to run into her on my way out. I don't think I could even be civil to her."
"She's gone," Mallie said, sniffing disrespectfully. "Told me she had to check out of her hotel. Brassy hussy."
"She's a real winner, all right," Katherine agreed, opening the door. "Well, see you in a few days, Mallie."
"Just you watch out for yourself," Mallie called one last warning. "Some gambling men can charm the birds right outa the trees. Don't you let this Jason Roarke sweet-talk you into doing something you might be sorry for."
"I won't, I promise," Katherine said softly, even as she knew he probably could sweet talk her into just about anything without really putting much effort into it. Yet, as she walked down the hall, she pushed that thought far back in her mind. She was doing what she had to do; now wasn't the time to begin doubting the wisdom of her actions.
Luckily, Jason wasn't home when Katherine arrived and his housekeeper was also out. When Katherine walked around to the back door of the A-frame, only Georgia was there, sprawled out under a tree, napping in an almost unconscious stupor as young animals are prone to do. When Katherine whistled for her, she lifted her head lazily and it took a moment or two for her to muster the energy to get up. Suddenly, she came alive, her long, colt-like legs tangling with each other as she propelled herself down a gentle incline toward Katherine.
"At least you're glad to see me," Katherine said to her as she bounded around her feet clumsily. "I just hope your master doesn't react in the opposite way when he comes home tonight." While Georgia plopped down and gnawed blissfully on the corner of the suitcase, Katherine found the key in the potted fern by the back door, where she
had seen Jason put it when he had taken her home after bandaging her knee. She had used it before, every evening she had come to stay with him when he had been ill, so it didn't seem so odd now to be walking into his house uninvited. Of course her motives for being here this time were more selfish so she did feel a slight twinge of guilt until it was banished by the sight of Georgia careening across the slippery tile of the kitchen floor, all four feet sliding in different directions.
Katherine took her belongings up to the small bedroom. After unpacking, she eyed the brass bed, wondering how easily sleep would come to her tonight. Not very easily, she suspected, since she wouldn't be able to forget Jason was in the very next room.
By seven o'clock, Katherine decided Jason wasn't coming home for dinner so she made herself a salad and while she ate it, had to endure Georgia's soulful black eyes watching every forkful go into her mouth. After washing the dishes, Katherine gave in and treated the overgrown puppy to a morsel of ham from the plate of fresh cold cuts in the refrigerator. Then Georgia trotted at her heels as she wandered into the great room to stand for a moment, trying to decide what to do to occupy herself until Jason returned. She noticed again the typewriter on a table beside the desk and strolled across the room to take a look, considering writing a letter to her mother on it. But it was a very expensive electric so she decided not to use it. She was dreading Jason's homecoming enough already.
There was always the possibility that he might be displeased to find her here so she didn't want to add to her misery by having to tell him she had jammed up his typewriter, too.
Ultimately, Katherine chose not to write to her mother at all. She would have hated to lie and say everything was fine here at Tahoe, yet she knew she could hardly tell her mother she had moved in with a man, simply to teach her father a lesson. That message, she was certain, would have caused quite an uproar in Baltimore.
Instead, Katherine decided to continue reading the novel she had brought along, the same Gothic romance she had left on the beach that first day she had talked to Jason. In the quiet of the great room, she was soon caught up in the mysterious machinations of all the suspicious characters at a brooding old English estate. The plot became increasingly menacing and it was with reluctance that Katherine took Georgia outside for a few minutes around eleven o'clock. The dog wandered into the shadows, but Katherine stayed within the area illuminated by the brass lamp mounted beside the front door. A distant rumble of thunder sent Georgia scurrying back to the house and Katherine looked up at the thick, dark clouds swirling overhead, obscuring the quarter moon and twinkling stars. A brisk wind swayed the tops of the tall pine trees. When a distant flare of lightning brightened the sky, Georgia cowered close to Katherine's legs as they hurried back inside.
Soon it began to rain softly as Tahoe caught the fringe of the distant storm. Huge drops splattered the windowpanes and pattered noisily on the ground outside. On the Navajo rug, Georgia shifted positions restlessly while Katherine sat on the sofa, her feet tucked up beside her. She continued her reading and unluckily at the same moment the heroine realized she was not alone in the shadowy attic in the English mansion, every light in Jason's house went out. Though they flickered once then flared back on again almost immediately, the damage was done. With a whimper, Georgia leapt up on the sofa to press her furry trembling body as close as possible to Katherine.
A twig snapped sharply outside the front window. Katherine jumped and Georgia gave a low, ominous growl. But her small surge of courage died a quick death. She whimpered again as something moving clumsily outside rustled the evergreen shrubbery. Until that moment, Katherine had hoped they were hearing Jason, but now she knew it couldn't be him. He wouldn't be crashing through the shrubbery in the middle of a rainstorm. So what was outside?
The mystery was soon solved. A cat mewed plaintively and Katherine breathed a hearty sigh of relief. But Georgia whined again and scrunched closer to Katherine's arm. "Oh, it's just a kitty, you silly," Katherine chided gently. "Some protectress you are. You're supposed to bark and growl when you hear strange noises, not hide behind me." As the big black eyes regarded her woefully, she relented, stroking the dog's fluffy fur. "But I guess you're still just a puppy, aren't you?"
Georgia's tail thumped on the sofa cushion in response.
"Okay, now that the bad old cat has gone, you can go back onto the floor," It took some urging, but Katherine managed to persuade Georgia to make her bed on the Navajo rug again and exhausted by the scary events, she sprawled out immediately and went to sleep.
Katherine stretched out on the sofa to read awhile longer, but after only a few minutes she began to yawn. She shut the book on her finger to keep her place, then closed her eyes, intending only to rest them for a few seconds.
Light, gentle fingers threading through her hair awakened her some time later. She stirred lazily, then her eyes flickered open. "Jason," she whispered, gazing up at him, fascinated by the way his sun-streaked hair glinted in the soft lamplight. When she struggled to sit up, his hands curved around her waist and she found herself very close to him.
"Kit, why are you here?" he asked quietly, smoothing her tousled hair back from her face. "Is something wrong?"
"No. Well, yes, sort of," she answered nervously, then proceeded to nibble a fingernail. He was too close. She could feel the warmth emanating from his body and the disturbing lime fragrance of his aftershave aroused memories of those occasions when she had been even closer to him. Scooting back slightly away from him, she smiled shyly, then the words began tumbling from her as she explained about her father and Wendi. When she had finished, and Jason only gazed at her silently, she bent her head, murmuring, "Well, I guess you can't understand why I'm upset. His involvement with Wendi must seem perfectly all right to you."
A resigned smile curved Jason's lips as he shook his head. "You're still assuming I'm just like your father, aren't you, Kit?" he asked, raking long fingers through his hair as his other hand tightened around her waist. "You shouldn't make assumptions like that. They're not always correct and this is one of those times. I do understand why you're upset, but I also think you have to begin to accept the fact that your father doesn't live his life exactly the way you want him to."
"Fine," Katherine responded crisply. "But he'll have to accept the fact that I won't stay in the same house with him as long as he insists on making a fool of himself with Wendi Miller."
Lifting her chin in one large hand, Jason held her gaze. "And is that why you're here?"
She nodded. "Let me stay, please," she blurted out, her tone beseeching. "I'll try not to get in your way. I just want him to understand how I felt when Wendi came sauntering in this morning, acting as if she owned the place. It was so very obvious that they're much more than casual friends."
Jason lifted one dark eyebrow quizzically. "You're something of a paradox, Kit. You assume I'm just like your father, that I'm interested in women only as sex objects, yet you obviously trust me enough to stay here with me. Aren't you afraid I'll try to take advantage of you?"
Unsurprisingly, she blushed. "I… I think I can trust you. Can't I?" she asked hopefully. Then she gave a little shrug and bent her head to conceal her eyes from his keen observation. "Besides, you've implied I'm so inexperienced that you wouldn't be interested in… in…"
"Oh, I'm interested, all right," he murmured, his voice deep and disturbingly husky. He drew her closer, his lean hands on her bare midriff gently squeezing and caressing. His lips grazed her smooth jaw over to her small chin, then slowly upward toward her mouth. "I told you once that your innocence is enchanting." His mouth barely touched hers, and as her lips parted with a swift intake of breath and she trembled, he lifted his head, the darkening blue of his eyes enveloping her in a warm light that hinted at barely restrained desire. "You see what I mean? You say you think you can trust me yet when I touch you, you tremble." He pressed his hand against her, the heel of his palm resting on the firm cushioned swell of her breasts, his fingertips bru
shing her collarbone. "And your heart is pounding, Kit. Are you that afraid of me?"
"Yes. No. Oh, sometimes I am," she answered breathlessly, chewing her lower lip. Her wide green eyes were dark with confusion as she gazed up at him. "You're a paradox, too," she whispered. "I never know what you might do. Like… like right now, I… I don't know what you're thinking. I don't know if you… want me."
"I always want you, Kit," he admitted unashamedly, a slight indulgent smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "You're a very desirable young woman and I want to make love to you. But not if you allow it to happen just to get back at your father. When I make love to you, it'll be because you want me to, because you're responding to me the way you did that day in my bedroom. Remember?"
Nodding, nearly mesmerized by the memory his words evoked, she swayed toward him, then felt unreasonably disappointed when he suddenly released her and stood, thrusting his hands into his cream-colored trouser pockets.
His expression became unreadable. "But you don't have to worry about that tonight. It's nearly two and you look very tired. I suggest we go to bed. In separate rooms, of course."
Though his tone was unmistakably teasing, Katherine blushed again, but obvious relief relaxed her delicate features. "Then you are going to let me stay?"
"If you want to know the truth, Kit, I think you should go home," he answered candidly. "Problems are rarely solved by running away from them."
Katherine pressed her lips together stubbornly. "I won't go back to that house until my father stops seeing Wendi. So if you don't want me here, would you drive me to a hotel?"
"No. You can stay here, Kit," he responded, regarding her intently, a muscle ticking in his tightened jaw. "But you'd better remember what I said. If you respond to me the way you did that day in my bedroom, then I…"
He never finished the warning. He didn't have to. To Katherine, the message was tantalizingly clear.
