From the Heart (7 page)

“I love you.”

Here it was, Kasey realized. Without condition, without demand. Pure love. Until that moment she hadn't known just how much she had needed it. “I love you, Alison. Close your eyes.”

Jordan stood in the doorway and looked down on the two sleeping figures. Alison's head rested in the crook of Kasey's shoulder. He had lost track of the time as he stood there, captivated by the picture they made. Each was turned into the other as if they had found something they had been looking for.

They both belong to me,
he thought, surprised by the warmth that flooded through him. They had both loved him, and he had been blind to it. Now that he knew, what was his next move? Love wasn't as simple as Kasey had told him. He thought about the way they had looked at him—Alison, stunned and hoping; Kasey, exposed and frightened. Walking over to the bed, he watched them sleep.

Bending over, he moved Alison gently. She stirred once and then was still, deep in a child's sleep. Carefully he lifted Kasey into his arms. She murmured something, wrapped her arms around his neck and settled into his shoulder. There was something in the trust of the gesture which aroused him more than a planned seduction. He turned to carry her through the connecting doors. Kasey's eyes opened slowly to stare at him.

“Jordan?” She was disoriented, and her voice was thick with sleep.

“Kasey.” He kissed her brow. How could she go from innocent to striking by merely opening her eyes?

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to decide whether to take you to your room or
mine.” He paused at the doorway of her room. “Why were you in Alison's bed?”

“Spiders.” Kasey remembered and tried to clear her head.

“I beg your pardon?”

“She had a nightmare.” She sighed. Kasey had never been one to wake up on a bounce. “What were you doing in there?”

“I've started to look in on her at night. Something I should have been doing long ago.”

With a smile, Kasey touched his cheek. “You're a nice man, Jordan. I wasn't certain.” She yawned and rested against his shoulder again. “You can put me down anytime.” With barely any effort at all, she could have been fast asleep again.

“Kasey.” He noticed the pillow and blankets on the lounge chair. “Why don't you sleep in the bed?”

“Claustrophobia,” she told him drowsily. “Between the canopy and those bed curtains, I feel like I'm in a coffin. I'm going to be cremated.”

“It's a simple matter to change your room.” She snuggled against him and sent a shaft of desire through him.

“No, it doesn't matter. The lounge is fine, and the staff already think I'm eccentric.”

“I can't imagine why.” Jordan put her down on the lounge and sat beside her. “You always smell of violets,” he murmured. His mouth sought hers and found it soft and warm and giving. He knew the exact moment when sleep cleared from her brain.

“Jordan.” Kasey was wide awake and throbbing. “You have me at a disadvantage.” She put her hands to his chest and held them firm.

“Yes, I know. I wondered if I ever would.” He took one of her hands and pressed his lips to the palm. “I intend to take advantage of it, Kasey.” He trailed a finger over her shoulder, down her breast. He could feel the nipple strain against the thin material. “Tonight,” he murmured. “Now.”

“Jordan.” The needs were churning, demanding satisfaction. “I told you before, there's a matter of choice.”

“You also told me, only a few hours ago, that you loved me.” He lowered his mouth to hers again. Good God, he wanted her. No woman had ever made him ache like this. The
desire was in his blood, in his bones. She might have a choice, but she left him none.

“I told you I loved you.” Kasey called out the last ounce of strength. “I didn't tell you I would make love with you. You've got to leave me something, Jordan.”

She couldn't allow it to happen. She knew that once she shared herself with him, once she gave, she would tie herself to him completely. It wasn't a simple matter of wanting to be touched or feel pleasure, it was a matter of needing to belong.

Jordan studied her in silence, still holding her hand in his. She was defenseless again, as she had been when sleeping with the child. He wouldn't hurt her; he swore to himself that he wouldn't hurt her. But he couldn't leave her. When he released her hand and rose to go to the door that adjoined Alison's room, Kasey let out a quiet sigh. But he closed it and turned back to her. She sprang up, prepared to send him away.

“Kasey.” He crossed to her but kept his hands by his sides. “Let me love you tonight. I need you. It's the first time in my life I've needed someone else.”

There was no sending him away. She might have resisted a seduction. She would have refused a demand. She was powerless against a need. Kasey drew him into her arms.

His mouth was instantly desperate, crushing down on hers until they were both reeling. He held her close—tightly, as though he feared she would spring away from him. But what she had offered she would never take back. He tugged the nightgown from her shoulders, anxious to feel her skin. He thought again how thin she was, how he had to take care lest he snap her in two. But his hands refused to be gentle.

Kasey felt no pain, only rocketing pleasure. She could sense the urgency bursting from him. She wanted him to need her. For now, it was enough. She pulled him toward the bed.

And he was on top of her. She wanted his weight; she was impatient with the clothes that separated them. Her mouth hungered. She poured herself into him through the kiss. It grew long, deep, totally involved until his hands stopped searching for her. It calmed them both.

Slowly, with care, he began to undress her. There was no longer a pressing drive for quick release. He wanted to savor her. He took his lips to her throat, and her sigh of pleasure
rippled through him. Still seeking but no longer desperate, he moved to her breast. Kasey pushed at his robe until she could feel his skin under her hands. She found the strength she wanted.

She let him take her deeper, slowly, with not so much tenderness as thoroughness; neither of them looked for tenderness now. That was for later, perhaps, when the heat was less intense and the strength was sapped. He nibbled at her breast, experimenting with textures and flavors. She slipped the robe from his arms, and then he was as naked as she. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, then made a leisurely journey back to her neck. The flavor there was dark and heated, drawing him.

She let her hands roam where they pleased, testing muscles, exploring the outline of ribs, skimming over hard, narrow hips. She was lost in the feel of him. He was everything she had wanted, and his lips on her neck were sending her into a delirium of pleasure. Wanting his taste again, she murmured to him so that he brought his mouth back to hers.

A storm was building. She could feel it in the texture of the kiss. Her body was already answering, moving under him, agreeing, demanding. The breath moaned out of her lips and into his. He slid his hand over her breast, down to her hip. Her thighs were slim and strong. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, her body ached with passion. She opened for him, already shuddering.

She was hot and moist. He wanted to see her without control. His own was ebbing quickly. Too quickly. He didn't want to end it. He wanted to keep touching her, tasting her. He wanted to keep hearing her moan his name. It aroused him to near madness. His blood was pounding, but still he lingered, letting his lips brush over her hip, his tongue trace over her stomach. He could hear her breathing—quick and short. She moved under him with complete abandon. She was totally his. He needed to know it and didn't question the reason.

When he brought his mouth back to hers, he knew she had lost all restraint, all control. He felt a surge of power knowing that he and he alone held the key to her. Then she took him and drew him inside her. His thoughts shattered. He was hers.

* * *

Kasey curled up against him and drifted in the afterglow of drugged contentment. She felt no regrets. She loved. She knew only that she had found the man she had waited for her whole life. She would have him for as long as she would be allowed. Tomorrows could be dealt with when they came. Tonight she had everything she wanted.

Jordan lay quiet in the darkness. His body was relaxed. He hadn't realized the tension he had subjected it to over the past weeks. But his mind . . .

It's never been like that before, he thought, a bit dazed by the knowledge. I can't say that to her. She'd never believe it. I'm not sure I do myself. She pulls at me; I shouldn't let her. He closed his eyes and tried to sweep his mind clear. But she was warm and soft against him, and her hand was on his heart. Sweet Lord, I've just had her, and I want her again. She's like a narcotic. He wanted to be angry, to resent what she was doing to him, but he couldn't fight his way past the simple need for her. He heard her sigh and felt her head move as she looked up at him.

“Jordan?”

“Yes?” Before he could prevent himself, his hand reached down to stroke her.

“I completely forgot about the canopy. Isn't that odd?”

Glancing down, he saw the shine of laughter in her eyes. All the doubts and strain slipped out of his mind as he smiled. There was no resisting her. “A cure for claustrophobia?”

“Definitely.” She rolled on top of him. “But a scientist always tests her theory several times. Would you be willing to donate your body to the experiment?”

“Definitely.” He pulled her mouth down to his.

“
T
he Nomadic tribes of the high plains lived almost completely on the buffalo. They had no agriculture and did little fishing.” Kasey yawned and sat back in her chair. “Sorry.” She smiled over at Jordan. ”I had a late night.”

Her casualness this morning wasn't a pretense. She was at ease. She had told him she loved him, she had acted on that love and she had no regrets. The tension she had felt before had come from fighting her own instincts and concealing the truth. “I wonder, Jordan, if I could momentarily abandon my values and ring for some more coffee.” She yawned again.

He studied her as she took a long, luxurious stretch. “You don't like servants, do you?”

“Of course I do.” Kasey leaned her elbows on her folded legs. “What I don't like is having them. About that coffee, Jordan. I'd make it myself, but Francois doesn't like anybody mucking about in his kitchen.”

“Why don't you like having them?”

“Jordan, I can't philosophize properly on three hours sleep.” She sighed when he only continued to study her.

“What color are Millicent's eyes?”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Only to point out that people rarely notice the people who serve them. I waited tables in college, and—”

“You were a waitress?”

“Yes, does that surprise you?”

“It flabbergasts me.” He grinned at her. “I can't picture you balancing trays and scribbling orders.”

“I was a terrific waitress.” She frowned and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “What was I trying to say?”

“When?”

“How is it you can be so clear-eyed and annoying this morning when you didn't have any more sleep than I did?”

He smiled at that as he rose and walked to her. “Because I've been sitting here listening to you spout information on the Arapaho and various Plains tribes and thinking that the thing I want most to do is make love to you again.” He pulled her to her feet. “Right now.”

She accepted the kiss with a murmur of agreement. If she had one disappointment, it was that she had been unable to wake beside him that morning. But there had been Alison to think of. Last night, she thought now as her mouth heated under his, had been much too short. And the night to come was too far away.

“I don't think we're going to get much work done this way,” she murmured.

“We're not going to get any done.” Jordan slipped the glasses from her face and put them behind him on the desk.

“Come on.”

“Where?”

“Upstairs.” He was already pulling her to the door.

“Jordan.” Kasey laughed and tugged on her hand. “It's eleven o'clock in the morning.”

“Ten minutes of,” he corrected, glancing at the clock as they passed through the parlor.

“Jordan, you're not serious about this.”

“Tell me that in half an hour.” He was propelling her up the stairs. “Alison's in school, my mother is at one of her famous committees and I want you.” He opened the door to his room. “In my bed.”

She was inside and locked in his arms. There was no denying his hunger. She was already dizzy from it. His mouth was ravaging hers as if he had been starved for the taste.

“Jordan.” Kasey managed to breathe when his lips sought her throat. “We're hardly alone here.”

“I don't see anyone else,” he murmured as his lips trailed up to her ear.

She moaned and tried to keep her balance. “There are servants all over the house this time of morning.” He pulled her to him for a brief, hard kiss, then released her. Kasey felt the earth tilt.

In two strides, Jordan was beside the phone. He lifted the receiver and pressed a button without taking his eyes from her. “John, give the staff the day off. Yes, the entire staff. Right now. You're welcome.” Jordan replaced the phone and smiled at her. “Fifteen people are about to be very grateful to me.”

“Sixteen,” Kasey corrected. “Thank you, Jordan.”

He crossed back to her. “For what?”

“For understanding that I needed to be alone with you. Really alone. It's important to me.”

He lifted a hand to her cheek. She was becoming important to him, he realized. Very important. “You will have to make your own coffee, now,” he murmured.

“What coffee?” With a smile, Kasey began to unbutton his shirt. “Would you like to hear my opinion of coffee?”

“Not now.” Jordan felt the need pushing at him as she moved to the second button.

“Well, I suppose I might bore you with it,” she mused, loosening the third button.

“The one thing I don't think you could possibly do is bore me.”

Kasey's fingers stopped, and her smile spread slowly. “Thank you, Jordan. That's a very nice thing to say.”

Deliberately, he took his fingers to the top button of her own shirt. “But if I were to tell you that you were the most generous, the most genuine, person I've ever known, you'd change the subject.”

The warmth filled her and clouded her brain. She didn't know how to answer, was terrified she would overreact and spoil the moment. Being in love, she discovered, made it more difficult to harness the emotions—and more necessary. “Yes, I imagine I would. I'd probably say something like, ‘Where do you get your shirts? This material is really marvelous.' ”

“Kasey.” Her eyes came back to his. “You're beautiful.”

She laughed at that, instantly more at ease. “No, I'm not.”

“You have a dimple at the right corner of your mouth when you smile. When you're aroused, your eyes darken and cloud so that the gold in them vanishes.”

She could feel her pulse start to hammer, her skin flush with heat. “Are you trying to unnerve me, Jordan?”

“Oh, yes.” He slipped her shirt from her shoulders. Then he took his hands down her breasts to her waist. “Am I?”

She was trembling. It stunned her. He had barely touched her, and her body was throbbing for him. He had too much power over her, in every aspect—heart, body and mind. She resisted it. She had given him her love but refused to surrender her strength. He had to want her every bit as much as she wanted him. Kasey loosened his last button.

“You unnerve me, Jordan,” she whispered and ran her hands up, slowly, over his stomach, ribs and chest. She could feel his muscles go taut under her palms. As she drew off his shirt, she pressed her lips to his shoulder. “You make me ache.” She trailed her fingertips back down his sides and took her lips to his throat. “You make me want.” She unhooked his slacks and let her fingers guide them over his hips. As her lips traveled down his throat, she heard his low moan of pleasure. She pulled him to the floor.

Passion had tastes. His skin was hot and moist from it where she kissed him. She could feel the thud of his heart under her tongue. It was like a dream. Her body was drugged, but her mind was active. She wanted to know all of him—what pleased, what aroused. She followed instinct, letting her hands roam; when she felt a response, she let them linger. His body was well-muscled and lean, and it excited her. His needs excited her. She could feel them pouring out of him. For this one moment of time he was as vulnerable as she.

She left a slow, lingering trail of kisses as she journeyed back to his throat. His breathing roared in her ears. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he groaned her name and pulled her mouth to his. Passion exploded in the kiss. She felt it whipping at her—an incredible mixture of pain and delight. His teeth dug into her lip, and she moaned. This was no dream, but shattering reality. His hands were suddenly rough
and bruising as he pushed her on her back. He entered her swiftly, violently, and plunged her over the edge of reason. She went with him, clinging, helpless, strong. She knew she had stopped breathing. They were fused together by damp skin and desire. They rose and crested, again and again, until there were only drained bodies and empty minds.

He lay on top of her, his face buried in her hair, unable to move, though he knew she was too slight for his weight. Her body was still trembling lightly under his. Jordan lifted his head. He wanted to see her in the full light of day, after his loving.

Her face was soft, her eyes still misted. He felt a pain, both unexpected and sharp, slam into his stomach. She smiled, and the pain grew. Could he want her again? So quickly? Surely that would explain the ache he felt by just looking at her. He lowered his mouth to hers, but it was tenderness that greeted him, not passion.

“Kasey.” He kissed her cheek, not certain what he was about to say. The emotions he felt were utterly new to him. There was a bruise on her shoulder, and he lifted his head again to look at it. It was small and faint and fit the pattern of his finger. It horrified him. To his knowledge, he had never marked a woman before.

“What's wrong?” Kasey saw the shock in his eyes and followed their direction. She smiled a little when she noted the bruise. “You have strong hands,” she commented.

His eyes came to hers. It was difficult for him; his feelings about bruising a woman were very defined. He found no excuse for it. Abruptly, he remembered the look on her face when she had told him he would hurt her. “Kasey.” He shook his head. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Jordan.” She recognized the deeper meaning in his words and lifted her hand to his cheek. “I know you don't.” When he rolled over on his back, she went with him to rest her head against his shoulder. “Don't think about tomorrow now,” she murmured. “Let's take today. It's enough.”

He pulled her closer, drawing her into the curve of his body. Today, he thought, and closed his eyes. “You're tired.” He had heard the fatigue in her voice.

“You did say something about a bed,” she returned, but she was content to stay where she was. Close to him.

He rose, and before her protest was complete, he lifted her into his arms. “You need to sleep awhile.” When he laid her on the bed, Kasey reached out to him.

“Sleep with me.”

Jordan pulled back the covers and drew her into his arms.

 

It was late afternoon when Kasey woke. She remembered when Jordan had left her, urging her to stay and sleep. She had pulled him back for a kiss that had led to another storm of loving. A glance at his clock told her he had left more than an hour before.

Lazy, she told herself and stretched. If he had still been with her, Kasey would have found it no effort to roll over and go back to sleep. She pictured him down in the study working. She still had a job, she reminded herself. She pulled herself from bed and dressed.

Halfway down the stairs, she heard Alison practicing the piano. Beethoven this time. A lovely piece played without interest. She paused in the doorway and watched. She's doing her duty, Kasey thought with a stir of sympathy.

“Did you know Beethoven was considered quite a revolutionary in his day?” Alison's head shot up at Kasey's voice. She'd been waiting to hear it since she'd returned from school. Kasey smiled and crossed to her. “His music is so full of power.”

Alison glanced down at her fingers. “Not when I play it. Uncle Jordan said you were sleeping.”

“I was.” Kasey stroked a hand down Alison's hair. “You play very well, Alison, but you don't put yourself into it.”

“It's important to have a firm basis in the classics,” Alison stated. Kasey could hear Beatrice in the words and bit back a sigh.

“Music is one of the greatest pleasures in life.”

Alison shrugged and frowned at the notes. “I don't think I like music. I might be tone deaf.”

This time Kasey struggled with a grin. “That could be a problem.” An idea shot into her head. “Hang on a minute.”

She bounded from the room. Alison heaved a sigh and
went back to Beethoven. She was still fighting with the notes when Kasey returned.

“This is a good friend of mine,” Kasey informed her and set down a guitar case. “He's good company,” she went on as she pulled the battered instrument from the case. “He travels well. I don't.” She smiled at Alison and was satisfied that she had caught the child's interest. “I can take him with me on a dig or on a lecture tour which makes him more practical for me than a piano. I need music.” She began to tune the guitar as she spoke. Alison rose from the piano stool to take a closer look. “It relaxes me, pleases me, soothes my nerves. It's also nice to play and do the same for someone else.”

“I never thought about it that way.” Alison reached out to touch the neck of the guitar. “You can't play Beethoven on this.”

“Oh, no?” Drawing on memory, Kasey began to play the movement Alison had been practicing.

Alison's eyes widened. She knelt down to watch more carefully. “It doesn't sound the same.”

“Different instrument.” Kasey stopped to cup the child's chin. “Different feeling. Music comes in all forms, Alison, but it's still music.”
Why doesn't anyone take the time to talk with this child?
Kasey wondered.
She soaks up words like a sponge.

“Will you play something else?” Alison settled down at Kasey's feet. “It sounds beautiful.”

“Maybe you're not tone deaf after all.” Kasey smiled at her as she began to play again.

Jordan stood in the doorway and watched them. Would she ever stop surprising him? he thought. It wasn't her playing that surprised him. If he had learned she had conducted an orchestra, he wouldn't have batted an eye. He doubted there was anything she couldn't do. But her capacity to give and draw love overwhelmed him. Was she born with it? Did she learn it? Was she even aware of the power she had?

Alison loved her. He could see it in her eyes. She simply accepted Kasey for what she was and loved. There were no questions, no doubts. And Kasey gave it back to her in the same way.
But I have doubts,
he mused.
And questions.
She's
right again. When we grow up, we lose the talent for loving without restrictions.