From the Heart (12 page)

“Sure. Pop would love it.” She began to pile things back on the tray. “You're much better behaved than I ever was. Why don't you dump all this stuff in the trash?”

Kasey took a moment when she was alone at the tablé to pull herself together. It was better this way. Alison was already being prepared.
And what about me?
She shut her eyes a moment. I've said I'll pay the price when the time comes. I have to stick to that.

“Ready?” she said and gave Alison a smile when she came back to the table. “Now we have to find a post office so I can mail off those things to my grandfather. Do you think he'll like that little gnome with the buck teeth?”

When they entered the house, Alison was laughing, struggling to balance her share of Kasey's purchases. “I'll help you wrap them,” she said, grabbing at a sliding box.

“We'd better get them upstairs first.” Kasey rescued the box and glanced up as Beatrice came down the stairs.

“Alison, what have you been doing?” She frowned at the child's windblown hair.

“Alison helped me with my Christmas shopping, Mrs. Taylor.”

Beatrice shifted her gaze and met Kasey's eyes. “I don't approve of you taking Alison from the house without discussing it with me first.” She turned to her granddaughter again. “Go up and brush your hair, Alison. You look a sight.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Kasey watched her walk obediently up the stairs. She turned back to Beatrice and spoke calmly. “I'm sorry if you were concerned, Mrs. Taylor. You were out when we left, and I did tell Millicent what our plans were.”

Beatrice lifted a brow. “I dislike being informed by a servant of the whereabouts of my grandchild.”

“It didn't occur to me you'd notice she wasn't here.”

Beatrice's color flared. “Are you criticizing me, Miss Wyatt?”

“Of course not, Mrs. Taylor.” Kasey fought to keep the conversation in perspective. “I enjoy Alison's company, she enjoys mine. We spent an afternoon together. I'm sorry if you were worried.”

“I find your attitude impertinent.”

“I can only repeat, I'm sorry,” Kasey replied evenly. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go put these things away.”

“You'd be wise to remember your position in this house, Miss Wyatt.” Kasey stopped, then set down her packages. It seemed they weren't through just yet. “You're a paid servant and can very easily be replaced.”

“I'm here on a job, Mrs. Taylor, and no one's servant unless I choose to be.” She paused a moment. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

“I won't tolerate your insubordination.” Beatrice's knuckles whitened on the post of the banister. She wasn't accustomed to being looked at so directly by someone she considered an employee. “I won't tolerate your disruptive influence on my granddaughter.”

“I was under the impression that Alison was Jordan's ward.”
What am I doing?
Kasey thought abruptly. I'm putting Alison right between us. I'm putting her right in the middle. “Mrs. Taylor,” she began, searching for a way to ease the tension for the child's sake.

“What's going on?” Jordan came through the drawing room doorway. He'd heard the argument the moment he'd stepped out of his study.

“This woman,” his mother began, turning to him, “is insufferably rude.”

Jordan lifted a brow. “Kasey?” he asked turning to her.

“Probably,” she agreed and tried to relax her muscles.

“Miss Wyatt took it upon herself to disappear with Alison for the entire afternoon, then had the effrontery to criticize me when I expressed concern.”

Jordan, caught between amusement and annoyance, studied Kasey again. “Been busy, have you?”

“We only went Christmas shopping, Uncle Jordan.” Alison
came down half the stairs in a rush, then stopped when her grandmother turned to her.

“This is none of your concern, Alison. Go back up to your room.”

“I don't think that's necessary.” Jordan stepped around his mother and held out a hand to Alison. She dashed down the rest of the stairs. “Well, you appear relatively unharmed. Did you have a good time?”

“It was wonderful.” Alison grinned up at him. “We went to McFarden's.”

“Really?” Jordan shot a look at Kasey. He knew her well enough to see beyond the careless front. She was raging inside and, he thought curiously, hurting. What had been said, he wondered, before he had come upon them? He smiled at her, wanting to soothe her. “You might have asked me to go along.”

Kasey was working to control her temper. She knew very well anger wasn't the way to handle Beatrice Taylor. And handling Beatrice Taylor would be necessary if she wanted to keep things smooth for Alison. It helped to see Alison standing under Jordan's arm.

“You were working,” she returned. “And I didn't think the idea of tramping through shops would appeal to you.”

“Kasey bought you a present, Uncle Jordan.”

“Did she?” He drew the child to his side, but his eyes were on Kasey's.

“Chocolate cookies,” Kasey told him. “Alison thought they were pretty.”

“Obviously you intend to treat this matter lightly.” Beatrice spoke again.

“Mother. There's nothing here to be concerned about. Alison's fine.”

“Very well.” She nodded, then brushed by him to mount the stairs.

Kasey looked down at Alison, who was watching her grandmother's retreating back. “I'm sorry, Uncle Jordan. I didn't know Grandmother would be upset. She wasn't here when we left, and we told Millicent, in case you wondered where we were.”

“You haven't done anything.” He bent and kissed her
cheek. “Your grandmother's probably a bit tired after her luncheon today, that's all. She needs to rest awhile. Why don't you take these packages up for Kasey?”

Alison gathered up boxes. “I'll bring wrapping paper to your room.”

“Thanks.” Children spring back quickly, she noted. Alison was already more concerned with the presents than with her grandmother's annoyance.

Jordan put his hands on Kasey's shoulders as Alison disappeared up the steps. “Shall I apologize, too?” he asked quietly as he soothed the remaining tension from her muscles.

Kasey shook her head. “No.” She sighed. She was aware that it was Beatrice's dislike of her which had caused the confrontation. She felt responsible. “I've put you in a bad position. Alison, too. I never meant to, Jordan.”

“Let me handle my mother,” he told her. “I've been doing it for a long time. And next time you go off for an afternoon,” he added, “invite me. I might have found tramping through shops and a hamburger appealing.”

“All right.” She smiled, steadying. “Next time I will.”

He started to pull her close, then stopped. His brows drew together. “Chocolate cookies?”

K
asey paused in the drawing room doorway. She'd taken her time dressing for the dance at Jordan's club, wanting to be certain Beatrice was gone before she came downstairs.

Standing there, she had a moment to study Jordan unobserved as he mixed drinks at the bar. Formal dress—the stark black and white, the perfect tailoring—suited him. He moves well, she thought, a man used to elegant clothes and elegant rooms. Yet there's so much more to him than I realized that first night I walked in here. More depth, more character, more strength. If I could have chosen a man to fall in love with, I couldn't have chosen any better.

Taking a deep breath, she walked into the room. “It seems my timing's perfect.”

Jordan turned to watch her. The dress was dark green and clinging with a deep slash of a neckline. It was caught at the side of her waist and fell straight, leaving a slit that opened and closed as she walked.

“I thought once you were a witch,” Jordan murmured. “Now I'm sure of it.”

Kasey took the glass from his hand. “Like it?” She smiled and sipped. “Jordan, you've picked up the knack for mixing these. You could make a living from it.”

“Yes, I like it.” He took the glass from her, set it down, and then drew her into his arms. He gave her a long, deep, satisfying kiss that begged for more. “The thought comes into
my mind,” he said as his lips grazed her cheekbone, “of locking those doors over there and staying right where I am.”

“Oh, no.” Kasey smiled and shook her head. “You asked me for a date. I'm holding you to it.”

“We could be late.” He kissed her again, lingeringly. They hadn't had nearly enough time together since they had returned from New York. “We've been late before.”

But not here, she thought, floating under the kiss. We're not alone here.

She drew herself carefully out of his arms. “Someone once told me that being late was rude. Besides,” she picked up her glass again, “you promised to dance with me. I should think you dance very well.”

It occurred to him that he wasn't going to like sharing her. He shook off the notion. Jealousy was foreign to him. “All right,” he agreed. “A date's a date.”

Kasey took his hand as they walked to the door. “Can we go parking afterward?” she asked.

“Love to.” He grinned and nudged her outside.

 

Jordan slipped two glasses from the tray of a roving waiter. “Champagne?” he asked her.

“Absolutely.” Kasey took the glass and sipped. “It's beautiful here. I'm glad you asked me to come.”

He touched the rim of his glass to hers. “To anthropology,” he murmured. “A fascinating science.”

Kasey gave a low laugh and raised her glass to her lips. She turned to watch a slim brunette in a filmy white dress weave through the crowd toward them. Reaching Jordan, she rose on her toes to kiss his cheek.

“Jordan. You've finally come out of hibernation.”

“Hello, Liz. You look lovely, as always.”

“I'm surprised you remember what I look like after all this time. It's been months.” She smiled and turned to Kasey. She had round, fawn's eyes and creamy skin. There was a single, perfect diamond on a chain at her throat.

“Kathleen Wyatt.” Jordan touched Kasey's shoulder lightly. “Elizabeth Bentley.”

“Kathleen Wyatt?” Liz repeated. “The name's very familiar, but we haven't met before, have we?”

“No, Miss Bentley, we haven't met.” Kasey gave her a friendly smile, appreciating the frank interest in her eyes. “Would you like some champagne?” she asked, slipping a glass from another tray. “It's really very good.”

“Thank you.” Liz glanced down at the glass, then back at Kasey.

“Kasey's been working with me on my novel,” Jordan explained. He could see Liz was both confused and intrigued.

“Oh, yes.” A piece fell into place. “Harry Rhodes mentioned your name at dinner the other night.” She hesitated a moment. “He said you were extraordinarily intelligent.”

“That's because I hustled him at pool.” Kasey's eyes gleamed with laughter over the rim of her glass as she lifted it again. “Do you play?”

“Play—pool?” Liz shook her head, and a faint line of concentration appeared between her brows. “No. You're an archaeologist?”

“No, an anthropologist.” Kasey smiled and couldn't resist. “An archaeologist is one who studies the life and culture of ancient peoples by excavating ancient cities, relics, artifacts. An anthropologist is one who studies the races, physical and mental characteristics, distributions, customs, social relationships of mankind.” She took another sip of champagne. “That's a terrific dress,” she commented, nodding at Liz. “French?”

 

“You did a fine job of confusing Liz,” Jordan stated when he had Kasey in his arms on the dance floor.

“Really?” Kasey lifted her cheek from his. She laughed at the wry look he gave her. “She's a very pretty lady, Jordan, and a very nice one. I like her.”

“You make up your mind quickly.”

“Usually it saves time.” She smiled as he whirled her around the floor. “I decided you were a marvelous dancer,” she pointed out. “And I was right.”

“If I told you I'd never enjoyed a waltz more, would you believe me?”

“I might.” She laughed up at him.

“I'm going to have to let you dance with the men here who can't keep their eyes off you. I'm not going to like it.”

Her brows lifted. “Are there many?” she asked, teasing him while she tried to sort out how she felt about his statement.

“Too many. You walk into a room, and every eye rests on you. Including mine.”

Kasey laughed and shook her head. “You've a writer's imagination, Jordan.”

“And a man's,” he murmured. “I can't get you out of my mind.”

She was staring up at him, forgetting the music they moved to, the people who moved with them. “Do you want to?”

He couldn't look away from her. “I don't know.” He couldn't think straight when she was in his arms, pressed close. “I wish I did. Is it enough to tell you there's never been another woman who's been as important to me as you are?”

It was a cautious step, and Kasey took it no further. She touched his cheek with her fingers. “It's enough, Jordan.”

Throughout the evening Kasey was never alone. She sparked interest everywhere she went. She enjoyed answering the questions put to her and fielding flirtations. She enjoyed the elegance, the glamour, just as she enjoyed a trip to the corner movie. Buttered popcorn or champagne, it was all part of life.

“Miss Wyatt.”

Kasey turned away from a discussion with a yachting enthusiast and his wife and smiled at Harry Rhodes. “Hello, Harry. It's good to see you.”

“It's nice seeing you again. You look lovely.”

“So do you.” She touched the lapel of his dinner jacket. He cleared his throat.

“I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed reading the book you loaned me.”

“Anytime, Harry.” He had a nice face, she thought. Jordan was fortunate to have him for a friend.

“I've been practicing, you know. I'm going to challenge you to another game of pool.”

“I'd like that.” She grinned now. “We'll have to try eight ball this time.”

“Miss Wyatt . . . Kathleen . . . Kasey,” he decided, as her smile warmed for him. “That's what Jordan calls you, isn't it?”

“All my friends do.”

He fiddled with his glasses and smiled. His eyes were kind, she thought, like the wise little bear he reminded her of.

“Kasey, I don't suppose you'd care to risk the dance floor with a doddering old professor.”

“I don't see one.” Kasey set down her glass and offered her hand. “But I'd love to dance with you, Harry.”

“Jordan's a very fortunate man to have found you,” he told her as they headed for the dance floor.

“But it was
you
who found me, wasn't it, Harry?”

“Then I should pat myself on the back.” He liked the dimple at the corner of her mouth, the way her hair curled without design around her face. She seemed a little of the waif, a little of the siren. “I hope Jordan appreciates you.”

“He's a very kind man, isn't he? Kind, loving, and gentle.”

“He loved his brother very much, you know.” Harry gave a sigh. “They were close. Allen, his father, was a dear friend of mine. He died several years before, and Beatrice has never been a maternal woman. Best hostess I know,” he added. “But simply not cut for mothering. The boys were quite a pair. A bit wild now and then, but—”

“Wild?” Kasey interrupted with a surprised laugh. “Jordan?”

“He had his moments, my dear.” Recalling a few, Harry decided it would be more discreet not to detail them. “It was very difficult for Jordan when he lost his brother. They were twins.”

“I didn't know.” Losing a brother would be hard enough, she mused, but losing a twin would be losing part of yourself. “He's never talked about it with me.”

“He closed himself in after that. It hasn't been until recently that I've noticed the door opening again.” Harry looked down at Kasey. “That's your doing. You care for him very much, don't you?”

Kasey met his eyes directly. “I'm in love with him.”

Harry nodded. He was no longer surprised by her frankness. “He's needed someone like you to snap the life back in him. If he's not careful, he could turn out to be a crusty old bachelor like me.”

“You're a beautiful man, Harry.” The music stopped, and Kasey kissed his cheek, holding him a moment.

“What's this?” Jordan crossed over to them and slipped an arm around Kasey's shoulders. “Turn my back for a moment and you're nuzzling up to my date. I thought I could trust you, Harry.”

Harry colored and harrumphed. “Not with this lady, my boy. I'm part of the competition. And I haven't lost my touch yet,” he announced before he strolled away.

“What did you do to him?” Bemused, Jordan watched Harry's swagger. “I believe he meant that.”

“I certainly hope so.” Kasey drew Jordan's eyes back to her. “Would you be jealous? That would be a marvelous Christmas present, Jordan.”

“It's not Christmas yet,” he countered. “Let's go outside before I have to compete with someone else.”

“Competition's very healthy,” Kasey stated as they slipped through the terrace doors. “In studies with white mice—”

He kissed her firmly, cutting off the impending lecture. “I'm damned if I'm going to compete with white mice,” he muttered, pulling her closer.

His hand was in her hair, and his mouth demanded. Kasey yielded, sensing it was what he needed. Her mouth was soft, and her arms lifted to wind around his neck. A submission of the moment; later there would be time for challenge, for aggression, for equal strength. He needed something different from her now. It was simple to surrender to him when she knew her own power. She could feel his heart pound as he kept her molded against him.

Jordan drew her away to stare down at her. “Who are you?” he muttered. “I never know who you are.”

“You're closer to knowing than most,” she murmured and turned to lean on the rail. “It's lovely here, Jordan. The air's soft, and I can smell—verbena, I think.” Kasey lifted her face. “The stars are close.” She sighed and scanned them. “Back at home I used to sit outside for hours and pick out constellations. Pop bought me a telescope one year. I was going to be the first woman on the moon.”

“What changed your mind?” There was a click from his lighter, then the scent of tobacco on the air.

Kasey shrugged her shoulders. She would remember that scent for the rest of her life. “I tried to live on dehydrated food for a week. It's terrible.” He laughed, and she pointed skyward. “There's Pegasus. See? He flies straight up. Andromeda's head touches his wing.” She brought her hand down and sighed. She felt pleasantly sleepy. “Marvelous, isn't it? All the pictures up there. It's comforting knowing they'll be there tomorrow.”

Jordan came closer to touch her shoulder. Her skin was smooth and just a bit cool from the night air. “Is that why you dig into the past? Because it's a link with the future?”

She gave another restless shrug. “Maybe.”

He tossed aside the cigar and pulled her close again. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Dance with me again, Jordan,” she murmured. “The night's almost over.”