by Donna Vitek
"Kit, wake up," Jason was saying, brushing Katherine's thick braid back over her shoulder. When her eyes flickered open, then dilated and widened with confusion and some fear, he smiled gently. "You have to get up, Kit. Your father's here and he's demanding to see you."
Katherine was wide awake immediately. She sat up straight in the bed and as Jason's lazy gaze drifted down to the low neckline of her white cotton gown, she clutched the sheet up close under her chin. "Wh-What do you mean he's demanding to see me? Is he that furious?"
"He certainly isn't pleased that you stayed here all night," Jason answered with a wry smile as he rose from the edge of the bed where he had been sitting. "And he isn't pleased with me. He looked at me as if he thinks I instigated this entire situation."
Katherine grimaced apologetically. "I'm sorry; I know you probably don't want to get involved with all this, but…"
"But you want him to believe we're lovers," Jason finished for her, then lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug. "Well, judging by the expression on his face when I answered the door, he's very worried that we might be. So your little ploy could work, I suppose. Then again, it might backfire. Brice doesn't impress me as the kind of man who would appreciate being manipulated. He may not let you force him to end his relationship with Wendi. If he's as stubborn as you are, I don't imagine he will."
"That's what Mallie said—she's our housekeeper. She knows my father pretty well," Katherine said musingly, then sighed as she met Jason's dark gaze. "But I have to try, don't I? And you'll play along with me, won't you? I mean, you don't have to act like you're my lover or anything like that. Just try to pretend you don't mind having me here. Please."
"I think I'm already involved in this little plot," Jason said with a rueful smile. "I thought for a moment Brice was going to throw a punch at me when I answered the door in this bathrobe."
Swallowing with some difficulty, Katherine allowed herself to look at him closely for the first time since he had awakened her. Clad only in a short terry cloth robe, he certainly looked the part of the virile lover. Her bemused gaze lingered on the brown, hair-roughened expanse of chest exposed where the robe's lapels came together and she needed no more than a quick glance at his long, muscular legs to set her heart pounding. Her eyes darted upward again to the sleep-tousled thickness of his golden hair and then, almost against her will, she was staring at the sensuous curve of his chiseled mouth.
"Get dressed, Kit," he commanded brusquely, turning to go to the door. "If you don't come down soon, I have the feeling Brice will come up here after you."
When Jason had gone, Katherine drew a deep, shuddering breath. The feelings he aroused in her might make it very easy for her to act as if her father had reason to worry about her staying here. Throwing back the covers, she got out of bed, catching sight of her reflection in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. Yes, her feelings for Jason did seem to be mirrored in dreamy soft eyes and the sensuous curve of her slightly parted lips. But this nightgown would never do, she decided, eyeing herself critically. The white cotton fabric was not sheer enough and the gown even had tiny rosebuds embroidered around the scooped neckline. It was much too demure. And with her hair confined in a fat braid, she looked too young and innocent. Somehow, she wanted to go downstairs looking as if she might have just spent a night wild with passion and after a moment's deliberation, she knew exactly what to do.
She tiptoed out of her room, down the short hall to Jason's. His bed was unmade but she saw no discarded pajamas anywhere. She decided Jason probably slept nude, then refused to allow her imagination to elaborate on that thought as she went to his closet and boldly removed a short silk-like navy robe from a hanger. After pulling her gown off over her head, she put on the robe, rolled up the cuffs around her wrists, then tied the belt loosely at her waist. Stepping in front of the mirror, she was pleased to see that the too-large robe made her look quite suitably en deshabille. Feeling her attire was provocative enough to shock her father, she then started on her hair, undoing the braid so that the gold-highlighted auburn strands swung free around her waist. She ran her fingers through the silky thickness, tousling it around her face. After assuming what she hoped seemed a sensuous expression, she was ready.
Walking down the steps to the great room was the most difficult task she had ever undertaken. But it had to be done, she told herself repeatedly, and the stubborn streak in her urged her onward. Barefoot, she descended noiselessly. As she reached the foot of the stairs, neither Jason nor her father had noticed her yet so she had time to take a deep breath to fortify her courage.
"Morning," she drawled as she strolled lazily across the room. Ignoring her father's sharply indrawn breath, she stopped by the chair where Jason sat, gave him a sleepy little smile, then casually dropped her hand down to rest on his shoulder as she finally met her father's eyes. He was glowering at her as if he could gladly turn her over his knee. Every muscle in his body seemed tensed and it took all the self-control she could muster not to run and hide somewhere. But she stood her ground, saying nothing, simply looking at him.
"What the devil do you mean coming down here dressed like that?" Brice growled, his hands balled into tight fists on the arms of his chair. "And what are you doing here in the first place? What are you trying to prove?"
"Why, nothing," Katherine answered, assuming her most innocent expression. "I just felt like moving in with Jason for a while. I didn't really want to stay there with you as long as you're running around with Wendi Miller. Didn't Mallie tell you that?"
Brice leaned forward, his expression menacingly grim. "Mallie tried to reach me all last evening, but unfortunately I wasn't at the casino. When I got home about three this morning, she'd finally gone to sleep. But she certainly told me you were here and why as soon as she woke up this morning. She's worried about you. And I'm mad as hell. So go pack your things, Katherine. I'm taking you home right now."
"I don't think so," Katherine answered as calmly as she could, glancing down at Jason as he looked up at her. There was a definite hint of amusement dancing in his eyes and for some odd reason, that renewed her courage. She looked back at her father, tilting her chin up in defiance. "I will not go home as long as you keep seeing Wendi and that's final."
Brice exploded. "You'll do as I tell you! And you won't coerce me into doing what you want me to! I'll see Wendi if I want to. I don't intend to let you run my life. You're the child, not the parent, and if you don't start remembering that, I may be tempted to give you the first spanking you've ever had from me."
His vehemence merely reinforced her obstinance. She glared at him, trying to look fierce, unaware of the fact that she presented just the opposite picture. There was a lot of Jason's robe but very little of her and her slender-ness was accentuated. Even the determined expression on her face could not disguise her delicate, nearly childlike features. She looked vulnerable and apparently Brice recognized that because he turned his attention to Jason.
"We're not close friends, Roarke," he began grimly, his green eyes hard. "But I thought I knew you well enough to logically assume you wouldn't take advantage of a child as inexperienced as Kit. I guess I was wrong."
Jason tensed. "I can assure you Kit is as innocent this morning as she was when she arrived here last night," he said flatly. Then ignoring Brice's audible sigh of relief and the impatient glance Katherine shot him, he qualified his statement. "But, Brice, Kit is no child. She's twenty-one and I have to be honest and tell you that I'm attracted to her. And I have every indication to believe she's attracted to me, too. So, although nothing happened between us last night, I can't promise you nothing ever will, especially if she lives in this house with me."
A thunderous expression appeared on Brice's face, then he turned to Katherine. "I'm disappointed in you, Kit," he muttered, his voice harsh. "You're playing with fire. Jason is far too old for you and you'll end up hurt if you're not very careful. I can't believe you'd risk that just to force me to do what you want. So go
upstairs like a good girl and pack and I'll take you home where you belong."
"If Jason's too old for me, then you're much much too old for Wendi," Katherine replied as casually as possible. "So as long as you insist on seeing her, I plan to stay right here with Jason."
Uttering an explicit curse, Brice jumped to his feet. "No daughter of mine is going to tell me how to live my life. So I'll leave without you. When you come to your senses, let me know. I'll come take you home."
After casting a threatening glare in Jason's direction, he stormed out of the house, slamming the front door shut behind him.
Katherine's shoulders drooped then she glanced warily at Jason as he got up to stand before her. "It looks like you're stuck with me for a while, until he changes his mind." She gave a weak, apologetic smile. "I'll try not to bother you much, really I will. And thank you for saying what you did about being… attracted to me. You made the situation sound very convincing."
"I was just being honest, Kit, so don't make the mistake of thinking you're perfectly safe with me," he murmured softly, hot light flaring in his dark blue eyes as they roamed freely over her. "Remember what I told you last night—I want to make love to you. So, if you have any desire to hold onto your virginity, you'd be wise to wear something less enticing than you have on right now. I'm a man, not a saint and I can only resist temptation so long. So be careful. Understand?"
As he reached out without warning to cup her firm warm breasts in his hard yet gentle hands, she gasped softly. His eyes narrowed. He moved closer. For a second she tensed, unable to move. Then with a muffled little cry of pure fright, she turned and fled, flying up the stairs to her room. Her breath came in short soft gasps as she closed the door and leaned against it. Oh, she understood all right. Perfectly.
Chapter Eight
On Wednesday morning, a week later, Katherine stepped out of her bedroom into the hall, stifling a yawn behind her hand. Even during holidays, she usually woke up by eight o'clock each morning but she was a slow starter. It took some time to really awaken completely and today was no exception. Pausing for a moment by her door, she arched her body with the lissome fluidity of youth, crossing her arms behind her head as she stretched lazily. Suddenly, a strange sensation trickling along her spine warned her that she was not alone in the hall. She spun around hastily on one heel, found Jason standing by his own door, and as she swiftly lowered her arms, she tugged at the bottom of her pale green T-shirt, inadvertently emphasizing the firm round fullness of her breasts. But as Jason's dark gaze drifted downward and his jaw tightened slightly, she nervously released her shirttail and slipped her hands into the pockets of her denim cut-offs. "Good morning," she murmured, her voice still enticingly husky with sleepiness. As he merely inclined his head, still gazing intently at her, she gave him a half-shy smile. Clad in khaki-colored chinos and a navy knit shirt, he seemed to exude an aura of virile masculinity and without conscious thought, she took a step toward him, then stopped, raising one hand in a gesture of uncertainty. "Would you… I mean, since Mary isn't coming in today, would you like me to make you some breakfast?"
He shook his head. "No, thank you. I've been up for over an hour and I've already made breakfast for myself."
"Really?" Her delicately arched brown eyebrows lifted. "I didn't realize you could cook."
"Why are you so surprised?" he asked rather irritably. "Did you imagine I could do little else besides shuffle cards?"
"Oh, no, that's not what I meant at all!" Anxious to convince him, she took several steps toward him, spreading her hands in an apologetic gesture. "Since most men aren't particularly proficient in the kitchen, I… I just thought you wouldn't be, either. Heaven knows, my father can't even boil water so…"
"There you go again, Kit—assuming I'm a carbon copy of Brice." With one long stride, Jason eliminated the distance between them. His hard hands closed around her shapely upper arms, his unusually rough grip indicating to some degree the depth of his impatience. "What do I have to do to convince you that all men aren't exactly alike, not even professional gamblers? Why is it so difficult for you to understand that I'm really not much like your father? I'm an individual, a totally different man."
She gazed up at his lean, tanned face, bemused by his serious tone and by the seemingly searching light in his narrowed eyes. The tip of her tongue came out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. Shaking her head, she averted her eyes, unable to withstand his piercing gaze any longer.
"I… I do know you're different or at least you seem to be." She bent her head, her silken auburn hair falling forward like a curtain against her cheeks. Chewing her upper lip, she tried to find the precise words to make him understand how ambiguous her feelings were. With a soft sigh, she began haltingly, "In my head, I do know you're different, but… but all my life, deep down inside, I've… I've…"
"Believed all gamblers are shallow, selfish, and completely untrustworthy," Jason finished for her, not with a question but with a statement of fact. His hard hands released her arms and his touch became gentle as he cupped her slender neck, tilting her chin up with both his thumbs. "How tender do I have to be with you, Kit, before you realize I'm not that way?" Without waiting for an answer, he lowered his head.
As his mouth covered hers, warm, firm, and caressingly gentle, Katherine swayed closer to him, a sweet poignant weakness draining all the strength from her limbs. One muscular arm encircled her slender waist and the soft curves of her young body merged with the lean, muscular contours of his, as if they had been proportioned perfectly for each other. His teeth closed lightly on the full curve of her lower lip, tugging her mouth open beneath his. Brushing fingers moved around her neck, slipping through the long strands of silken hair past her waist. Both his hands covered the rounded firmness of her hips, exerting a light pressure that brought her against his hard thighs and his upsurging response to her nearness sent her senses reeling.
"You know what you do to me, Kit," he murmured huskily, his warm breath caressing her ear. "I need you and it's not easy to be gentle, but I'm trying. Doesn't that count for something?"
In answer, she moved closer, losing herself in the sweet tumult of delight aroused by his words and by caresses that conveyed a promise of searing passion. Yet, as he freed her shirt from the waistband of her shorts and his hands sought her firm full breasts, she trembled as his fingertips possessively stroked the throbbing aroused peaks, scorching her skin even through the lace of her bra. She wanted him to go on touching her forever and as she realized how easy it would be to surrender completely, she uttered a soft protest, tensing as she moved slightly away from him.
With a muttered imprecation, he dropped his hands to her waist again and brushed his lips across the tousled hair atop her head. "Kit, what am I going to do with you?" he whispered roughly, raising his head, tilting her chin up with one long, lean finger so that she had to look at him. "I want you so much but even when I'm very gentle with you, you're still afraid of me. Why? Because you begin to want me, too? Are you really that afraid of becoming involved with me?"
With his piercing blue eyes impaling hers, she couldn't lie to him. Finally, reluctantly, she nodded. "But, Jason, I…"
"You don't remind me as much of my ex-wife as I thought, Kit," he interrupted musingly. "Denise was never afraid of our relationship. She simply hated my… profession because it didn't provide enough security to suit her, financial security, that is. But then, she wasn't the romantic little virgin you are, even when I first met her. It isn't financial security you're seeking, is it? You want emotional security?"
Swallowing with difficulty, she nodded again. "Yes, I guess, and…"
"And you're certain you'd never feel secure with me because I'm a gambler—like your father," Jason finished for her, shaking his head. His hands dropped from around her waist as he took a backward step, surveying her, the expression on his sun-browned face enigmatic.
As he raked long fingers through his thick sun-bleached hair, his simple Nordic good lo
oks were enough of a temptation for Katherine and with the unbidden memory of his deep melodious voice saying her name, she ached to fling herself back into his arms and urge him to make love to her. Conflicting emotions tore at her, but at last the self-protecting wall she had erected around herself because of her father's desertion proved too strong. Even her growing respect and need for Jason couldn't crumble her defenses and she lowered her head, veiling the confusion and unhappiness in her eyes with the thick fringe of her lashes.
"I have to go out, Kit," Jason said gruffly, stepping around her as he walked to the head of the stairs. "I may be gone most of the day. Do you have something to keep you occupied?"
Gnawing her lower lip, she nodded. "Jess asked me to join her for lunch."
Striding briskly down the steps as if eager to escape her, Jason muttered back over his shoulder, "See you later, then."
"Later," she answered almost inaudibly, an oppressive heaviness settling in her chest as she watched him go out the front door and close it behind him. With a heartfelt sigh, she trudged down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and surveyed the contents, then closed it again, knowing that mere food couldn't ease the emptiness she felt inside.
As Katherine adjusted one narrow strap of the saffron sundress she wore, she peered into the dimly lighted Italian restaurant, at last spying Jess sitting at a small table in the far right corner. Ignoring the admiring glances of a few companionless men, she threaded her way between the intimate tables for two, subsiding with a sigh in the chair across from Jess.
Dressed in a powder blue suit that complimented her strawberry blond hair, Jess smiled questioningly at her. "Was that a tired sigh or a sad sigh, Kit?"
"Neither. Or maybe both," Katherine answered evasively, unnecessarily smoothing her hair back toward the loose chignon on her nape. "Or maybe it's just the heat. Mallie had some shopping to do so she drove me here in the jeep. And the sun's very hot today. I feel sort of washed out."
