Game of Chance

by Donna Vitek

  Silhouetted in the beam of the flashlight behind him, Jason shook his head. "The two of you together do seem a little accident-prone. Now, are you hurt or just shaken up a bit?"

  She wanted to lie but as she tried to raise her right knee, the pain that gripped her ankle compelled her to gasp out the truth, "I think I've sprained my right ankle. It hurts like the devil."

  Gentle fingertips probed the throbbing flesh surrounding her ankle. When she drew in a sharp breath, he swiftly gathered her up in his strong arms and stood effortlessly. With one foot, he pushed the flashlight around on the floor so that its beam illuminated the open doorway to her room.

  Katherine lay quietly against his bare, hair-roughened chest but her pulses began to race. Her ankle was nearly forgotten and she gazed bemusedly up at him as he put her down gently on her bed in the semi-darkness.

  "I'll have to take the flashlight for a minute," he said softly. "I'll get the kerosene lamp from my room so we can take a closer look at that ankle."

  As Katherine watched him stride out her door, she noticed with a lurch of her heart how his dark pajama pants hung low on his lean hips. She had seen him in pajamas before when he had been sick but somehow tonight was different. It was as if the electrical forces of the storm were concentrating in her room and an incredibly intense excitement rose in her.

  Jason, however, appeared cool and composed as he returned with the first-aid kit and the lamp, which bathed the room in soft illumination. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he was impersonal and methodical as he lightly probed the swelling tissue below her ankle. "Seems like a sprain," he pronounced. "You'll have to get it X-rayed tomorrow to be sure though. I'll wrap it for now unless you think I should just take you to the hospital."

  Katherine hastily shook her head. "Oh, no; I'm sure it's only sprained."

  "I hope so," he murmured, beginning to wrap the bandage beneath her instep, drawing it up over her foot, then over and behind her ankle in the classic figure eight. He paused a moment, glancing at her. "What were you doing out in the hall?"

  She smiled sheepishly. "I wanted the lamp from downstairs so I could get back to sleep."

  His hands were still again as his dark blue eyes searched her face. "Are you afraid of the dark, Kit?" he inquired softly. "I thought only gamblers frightened you."

  Unable to interpret his enigmatic expression, she couldn't be sure if he was teasing her or being serious. So she never answered him.

  After securing the metal-pronged fastener of the bandage into the elastic fabric, Jason allowed his narrowing gaze to trail slowly up the long length of Katherine's creamy bare legs.

  She shifted nervously, realizing how little she was wearing. Her white cotton camisole and matching tap pants were cool but sheer, a fact that Jason seemed to be realizing, too, at that very moment. Scarcely able to breathe, she sat immobile against her propped-up pillow as his dark eyes drifted upward to linger on the rounded contours of her breasts. Then his large brown hands feathered over her slender legs, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Katherine gasped softly, her heart pounding with dizzying rapidity as his hands continued their searching journey over her abdomen to span her insweeping waist. Effortlessly and with great finesse, he moved her so that she was lying on the bed.

  "Kit," he whispered roughly, sliding one arm beneath her shoulders as he came down beside her. His fingers tangled in the thick hair at her nape, holding her fast as he lowered his head. His firm mouth brushed against hers with evocative lightness, then he drew away slightly.

  She gazed up at him, her softly bemused eyes captured and held within the azure depths of his. "Oh, Jason," she whispered back, tentatively lifting her slender arms to rest across his shoulders. As her fingertips grazed the strong brown column of his neck, his lean features tightened. Passion blazed in his eyes. With her sharp intake of breath her lips parted and his descended to possess her mouth with a hunger tempered by a devastating touch of tenderness. The fierce taking power of his kiss ignited her own smoldering desires. A pulsating thrill rippled deep within her, awakening an aching emptiness she knew only he could assuage. Caught up in a world where only the two of them existed, she tightened her arms round his broad shoulders, urging him nearer. Delighted, half-frightened, yet eager all at once as he bore her down into the soft mattress, she trembled as one muscular thigh parted hers slightly. His lips explored hers, exerting a light twisting pressure that opened her mouth to the tongue that tasted her own.

  Her senses spiraled as he tugged at the ribbon closures of her camisole, then pushed the cotton fabric aside, exposing the cushioned roundness of her breasts to his seeking touch. His fingers grazed over her firm silken flesh, probing, caressing, conveying barely restrained desires. Strong teeth gently nibbled her earlobe as his thumbs brushed the rosette peaks, arousing them to throbbing hardness. Then he lowered his mouth to the shadowed scented hollow between her breasts. He tasted each straining nipple, tantalizing her with the moist roughness of his tongue. The sensations he aroused made her moan softly and arch against him. As he turned onto his side, taking her with him, and his hard arms encircled her slender young body, she yielded eagerly to his superior strength.

  "We both knew this had to happen," he muttered huskily, his lips trailing across her cheek. "Didn't we, Kit?"

  Perhaps she had known. Perhaps, subconsciously, she had moved into his house, hoping it would happen. Perhaps teaching her father a lesson had only been a suitable excuse. Katherine didn't know. At the moment, she was beyond rational thought, too enthralled by Jason's nearness to analyze her motives for moving in with him. All she wanted now was for him to go on touching her and she conveyed that need by moving evocatively against the long length of his body.

  Jason made no attempt to hide his response. His hands spread open over the soft curve of her hips and the hard ridge of his body surged powerfully against her abdomen. Ages-old feminine instinct compelled her to press closer to him. Her trembling fingers explored the heated flesh of his muscular back. Her hands stroked his lean sides as he whispered her name hoarsely, and her breathless sigh signaled total submission.

  "I won't hurt you," he promised, taking her mouth with a tender strength that proved his words.

  But as his long, hard legs tangled with hers, his calf brushed her injured ankle, jarring it. Katherine tensed involuntarily with the pain, then murmured in protest as he pulled away slightly.

  "What am I doing?" he groaned, dragging his arms from around her, stilling her hands as they sought to keep him close. "Kit, I can't make love to you this way. You're afraid."

  "No. I'm not. You just nudged my ankle. I…" She was silenced as she opened her eyes and saw the grim expression on his face. Yet, as he lowered his feet to the floor and stood, she reached out to catch his large wrist, her green eyes pleading with him to stay. "Don't leave me," she whispered. "I'm not afraid. I want you to…"

  "You want me tonight, Kit," he muttered gruffly, easily removing her small fingers from his wrist. He shook his head, the hot light in his blue eyes piercing the soft depths of hers. "But what about afterward? What about tomorrow morning? You'll tell yourself I just used you. You don't trust me, Kit, and I don't want to make you hate me."

  Pressing her fingers against her lips, Katherine watched him turn and walk out her door. She longed to call out and tell him that she did trust him. But she couldn't, because she didn't.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, Jason's housekeeper, Mary, was dusting the furniture in the great room when Katherine hobbled down the stairs. A plump little woman in her late forties, Mary smiled pleasantly, then proceeded to flick one last imaginary piece of dust from the mahogany bar next to the staircase. Katherine limped across the room to rest one hand on the back of the sofa, taking some of the weight off her ankle. Hesitantly calling Mary's name when the maid started toward the kitchen, she asked softly, "Where is… Has Mr. Roarke left?"

  "Just stepped outside for a breath of fresh air,"
Mary informed her cheerily. "Be back in a minute or two, I guess. Are you 'bout ready for some breakfast, Miss Delacorte?"

  Katherine shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm not very hungry."

  "Coffee then?"

  "Maybe later. But I can get that myself. I won't have to interrupt your cleaning."

  "Whatever you say, miss," Mary agreed. After flashing Katherine another genuinely friendly smile, she headed for the kitchen.

  Alone, Katherine hobbled around the sofa to sit down close to the armrest where she heaved a long dejected sigh and stared pensively at the cold stone fireplace. Lack of sleep made her eyes feel positively gritty and she closed them wearily, wishing she didn't feel so confused. She wanted to see Jason this morning; yet, she didn't. Last night's events had been very bewildering. Though she had been eager for Jason to make love to her, he hadn't taken what she was so willing to give, saying he knew she would regret it afterward. He had wanted her; she knew that, which made his honorable consideration of her feelings all the more confusing. His behavior was so rarely what she expected a gambler's behavior would be; he seemed more than anything like a puzzle with some of the pieces missing and she simply couldn't understand him, though she longed to. She wanted to trust him, but her feelings for her father and the kind of life he led were too deeply ingrained in her; it seemed impossible that she could put her faith in any man even remotely like him.

  Resting her head back, she sighed again, but her eyes flew open and she sat up straight when she heard the front door open, then close again immediately. Her stomach fluttered as she peeked around the back of the sofa, smiling shyly when Jason looked up and noticed her there. In a black crew-neck sweater and black trousers, he was too disturbingly attractive and the mere sight of him evoked memories of how he had made her feel last night. Hoping to mask her response, she tried to smile demurely up at him as he came to stand beside her.

  "The rain cooled things off a little," she said, then berated herself for uttering such an insipid statement.

  Jason only nodded, then frowned. "Why are you sitting there like that?" he asked, reaching across her to pick up two of the throw pillows on the sofa. "You should have that ankle elevated, Kit. And don't walk on it any more than you have to until it's been X-rayed. I thought I'd drive you over to the hospital this morning."

  "Oh, but you don't have to go to all that trouble," Katherine protested weakly as he knelt on the floor in front of her and lifted her right foot. His touch was impersonal as he lowered her heel to the stacked pillows on the coffee table yet the brushing of his fingertips across the bare skin above the bandage sent a shiver along her spine. She swallowed uneasily. "I can call Mallie and have her drive me to the hospital, if you really think it's necessary. I mean, I'm sure my ankle's only sprained."

  "It's necessary," he pronounced dictatorially, rising to his feet again. "And I'll take you to have it X-rayed. That way I'll be certain you really have one taken."

  There was something in his tone that Katherine didn't care for and she lifted her chin defensively. "You sound as if you don't trust me."

  "Well, that makes us even, doesn't it? We both know you don't trust me."

  His words recalled last night and suddenly erected a wall between them that Katherine had no idea how to breach. She dragged her gaze away from the dark intensity of his to stare morosely at her injured limb. If only she could have freed herself of all inhibition and thrown herself into his arms, she would have done so in that moment, but the cautious behavior of a lifetime couldn't be eradicated so easily. Sensing he was still watching her, she glanced up and almost flinched as she met the brooding look in his dark blue eyes. At last he turned away and she could breathe again, but an oppressive heaviness seemed to drag at her limbs. She had never felt so lost and confused in her life. How had she gotten herself into this mess? Other girls fell in love, were loved in return, and everything was easy. Why was she so different? She had expected to find a dependable man with whom love could come slowly and comfortably. In her wildest imaginings, she had never dreamed a man like Jason could arouse in her such a tumultuous intermingling of emotions—love, begrudging respect, and, most disturbing of all, the irrepressible desire to belong to him. She had gone out with other young attractive men and often she had wondered if she might be frigid because their kisses hadn't excited her at all. But Jason had proven beyond a shadow of doubt that she was not frigid.

  Why had he been the man who awakened all her latent sexuality, she wondered bleakly, watching as he unlocked his roll-top desk and removed a sheaf of papers from it. As he sat down in his leather swivel chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him, she found herself staring at the muscular lineation of his thighs straining against the tautened fabric of his trousers. Her gaze trailed slowly upward over the flat hard abdomen and broad strong chest to the chiselled features of his tan face. She loved him so completely and she was so miserable. Suddenly, he looked up, his jaw tightening and a strange light flaring in his narrowing eyes as they met hers.

  "Kit," he muttered roughly, moving as if he meant to stand. "This is insane. We have to…" A knock on the front door interrupted him and with an explicit curse, he lithely rose to his feet. As he walked past Katherine, he paused a moment and laid his hand against the thickness of her auburn hair. No words accompanied this exquisitely tender gesture, but there was unmistakable regret in his expression as he dropped his hand and continued on to the door.

  It was Brice who came into the great room, frowning when he saw his daughter's bandaged ankle. "What happened to you?"

  "Would you believe I tripped over a dog in the dark?"

  "He would if he'd ever seen Georgia," Jason interceded wryly, only the faint glimmer in his eyes indicating that Brice had interrupted the beginning of a serious conversation. With a hint of a smile, he explained about Georgia. "She's a rather gangling, clumsy Labrador and when she and Kit get together, they somehow manage to get into some sort of tangle."

  "She's just a puppy, though," Katherine felt compelled to defend the dog, then herself. "And it's not all my fault. She and I are always bumping into each other."

  "I don't recall blaming you," Jason retorted, his tone almost teasing. "It's just inevitable that you and Georgia fall over each other often. Both of you are very young."

  Katherine wrinkled her nose at him, then blushed slightly as she noticed her father's speculative gaze drift from Jason to her then back to Jason again, as if he didn't know what to think of their bantering exchange. Shifting uncomfortably on the sofa, she patted the cushion beside her. "Sit down," she said softly, wondering why he had come, yet hating to ask outright. So she exercised diplomacy. "I'm a little surprised to see you here."

  "I imagine you are," Brice responded, giving her one of those crooked hesitant smiles. "But after our conversation yesterday, I started thinking about what you'd said. And… well, the fact of the matter is, I've told Wendi it's all over between us."

  Katherine was too astounded to speak. She had believed her father's obstinacy exceeded even her own and though she had moved in with Jason in the hope that Brice would drop Wendi, lately she had begun to have doubts that her ploy would work. She had no idea what she had said to him yesterday that could have influenced him in any way; he had never before shown an inclination to respect her opinions.

  "I thought you'd be happy to hear my news," Brice commented as she simply stared at him. "Don't you have anything to say?"

  "I'm just so surprised," Katherine explained softly. "What did I say yesterday that made you change your mind?"

  Brice withdrew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out and lit it, then inhaled deeply. His expression was very serious. "Maybe it was what you said about Wendi trying to act like a stepmother to you. I began to realize she did seem to be getting ideas in that direction so I decided I'd better just tell her I'd no longer be paying her hotel bill for her."

  "I don't imagine she was too pleased."

  Smiling ruefully, Brice shook hi
s head. "At first, she tried crying, swearing she had nowhere to go. But when she saw I meant what I said, she proceeded to call me every dirty name she could think of."

  "Where will she go?" Katherine asked, feeling some pity for the girl, though she was a rather unpleasant person. "From what she told me, she had absolutely no money."

  "She has money now," Brice said dryly. "And I also called a friend of mine in Las Vegas. He said he might be able to book her for a short singing engagement. So that placated her somewhat."

  "Well, now that you've gotten rid of her, will you try to get Jess to come back?" was Katherine's next question. But she almost regretted her bluntness when her father's face lost all expression. Impulsively, she laid her hand on his arm. "You do want Jess back, don't you?"

  "That has nothing to do with anything," he answered tersely. "She left of her own free will. I certainly won't chase after her and beg her to come back."

  Katherine breathed an exasperated sigh. "You are the most stubborn human being I have…" . "I came over today to tell you that Wendi is leaving Tahoe," Brice interrupted imperiously. "So there's no need for you to stay here any longer. You've gotten what you wanted, so you can come home."

  Until that moment, Katherine hadn't stopped to consider what Wendi's leaving would mean to her. She would have to leave Jason's because there was no longer any excuse to stay. Suddenly, she realized she didn't want to go, though staying here in the same house with him had made a shambles of her nerves and even had been potentially dangerous. But at least she had been able to see him every day. Despite all the tensions between them, there had been many moments when they had simply sat and talked and she would miss those quiet times almost as much as she missed the excitement he could generate in her by merely touching her hand. She looked up at him. He hadn't sat down again since Brice had arrived. Leaning against the built-in bar along the staircase, his hands thrust into his pockets, he returned her look unwaveringly, his eyes as unreadable as they had been the few times she'd seen him play poker. What was he thinking? Was he relieved that she would finally be leaving? Katherine didn't have any idea what was running through his mind. Finally, she realized her father was watching her expectantly and she reluctantly turned her attention to him.