by Nora Roberts
“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.”<
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“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.”
12
Christmas Eve. Magic. Kasey was ready for magic. She had palm trees rather than snow, but she’d lived through Christmases without snow before. This time she had something of more value. She would have the day with the man she loved and with a child who was burning with excitement. That was magic enough for her.
She was aware that her job was finished, or at least nearly so. Jordan spent more and more time working without her. What she filled in now could be done by a letter or a simple phone call. She was procrastinating, and she knew, whether Jordan realized it or not, that so was he. The break had to come—but not on Christmas. Kasey was taking that for herself. When the holidays were over, she’d make her plans, pack, then tell him. In that order. It would be better if everything was set before the words were said.
With a firm plan in mind, Kasey felt better. She told herself she was entitled to a week. The first of the year, she would take the step away from him, away from Alison, and begin again. She was strong; she’d lived through losses before. But now it was Christmas, and she had a family, if only for another week.
She sat on the rug in the drawing room and watched Alison poke at the stacks of presents under the tree. She chattered like a magpie. What might this be? What that had to be. How many hours were left?
“Not quite one less than the last time you asked,” Jordan told her and pulled her up on his lap. “Why don’t we open everything now?”
“Oh, no, Uncle Jordan, we couldn’t!” She glanced at Kasey, waiting to be overruled.
“No, we couldn’t. Santa would be very annoyed.”
Alison laughed and snuggled into the curve of Jordan’s arm. “Kasey, you know there isn’t really a Santa Claus.”
“I know nothing of the sort. You, Miss Taylor, are a cynic.”
“I am?” Alison digested the word. Reaching over, she picked up a small glass ball that held a miniature forest scene. Turning it upside down, she let the snow fall. “I haven’t seen this before.”
“No.” Jordan had wondered when she would notice it. “I found it in the attic this morning. It was your father’s when we were boys.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. I thought you might like to have it.”
“To keep?” She curled her fingers around the glass and looked up at him.
“To keep.”
Alison looked back at the glass and watched the snow drift. “He liked the snow,” she mused. “When we lived in Chicago, we had snow fights. He’d let me win.” She leaned back against Jordan’s chest and tilted the ball again.
Kasey watched them and kept silent. He’d gone searching for that to give Alison something of her father for Christmas. If she hadn’t loved him before, she would have fallen in love with him at that moment. He’s a good man, she thought. Above everything else he is, he’s a good man.
She rose, wanting to give them time alone.
“Kasey?” Jordan’s eyes lifted to hers, and she stopped.
“I think I still have a few things to wrap,” she told him. He smiled, seeing through her.
“Didn’t someone mention something about stringing popcorn?”
“Popcorn?” Alison’s eyes lit up. “For the tree?”
“Kasey told me a tree wasn’t suitably dressed unless it wore popcorn,” Jordan stated. “What do you think?”
“May we do it now?”
“I’m all for it, but Kasey seems to have something else to do.” Jordan kept his eyes on her, still smiling.
“I’m flexible,” Kasey returned, then looked at Alison. “We’ll need several miles of string and three needles. Can you handle it?”
“Are we going to eat some, too?”
“Absolutely.”
Alison scrambled up and, taking the glass ball with her, shot out of the room.
“Sometimes you’re transparent, Kasey.” Jordan rose and went to her. “You were going to cry and didn’t want to do it in front of Alison. Or in front of me.”
“That was a marvelous thing you did.”
“Alison was with me last Christmas, and it never occurred to me.” He lifted Kasey’s chin a bit higher and kissed her.
“Don’t make me cry, Jordan. It’s Christmas Eve.”
“I’ve got them!” Alison came to the doorway at a full run. She held up a packet of needles and a thick ball of string.
“Half the battle.” Kasey crossed to her, then turned back to Jordan. “Coming?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
As they approached the kitchen door, Jordan sa
id, “You know, I’m not sure how Francois is going to take this. His kitchen’s sacred.”
“Piece of cake,” Kasey murmured as they entered.
Francois turned and bowed. He didn’t wear the white hat Kasey had hoped for all those weeks ago, but he did have the moustache. “Monsieur.” He bowed at Jordan. “May I assist you?”
“Francois.” Jordan took a moment. He’d witnessed more than one tantrum over the years. “We have a need to make something for the Christmas tree.”
“Oui, monsieur?”
“We’re going to string popcorn.”
“Popcorn? You want to make this popcorn in my kitchen?” Before Jordan could answer, Francois was off on a stream of indignant French.
“Francois?”
He turned and gave a stiff bow. “Mademoiselle?”
Kasey smiled at him. “Vôtre cuisine est magnifique,” she began, then continued in flawless French. She praised his food, his stove, his counters, sampled the stock pot he had simmering while he joined the discussion with passion. She was enthusiastic about the perfection of his cookware and impressed with his cutlery.
When she had finished, he kissed her hand cordially, bowed to Jordan again and strolled from the room.
“Well.” Jordan glanced at the closed door, then back at Kasey. He watched as she took down a pan and placed it on the stove. “Where did you learn to speak French like that?”
“My roommate at college was a language major. Where’s the popcorn?”
He walked to her, ignoring the question. “What did you say to him? I always thought my French was good, but the two of you went well beyond me.”
“Just this and that.” Kasey smiled. “I did tell him you wanted him and the rest of the kitchen staff to have the night off. You do have popcorn, don’t you?”
Jordan laughed and reached into a bottom cabinet. “I smuggled it in at great personal risk.”
“You’re a tough guy, Taylor.” She took the can from him. “I’ll need some oil.” He gestured for Alison to get it, then leaned close and whispered a quick French phrase in Kasey’s ear. Her mouth turned up. “I’m shocked,” she murmured. “Interested, but shocked. I don’t think I’ll ask you where you learned that.”