Game of Chance

by Donna Vitek

  Katherine's eyes fluttered open and she attempted a wan smile as Jason dropped to his knees beside her.

  "Kit, are you okay?" he muttered roughly. "You just missed hitting your head on a rock by less than an inch."

  She nodded, reaching back over her head to touch the rough surface of the stone close behind her. "A miss is as good as a mile, I guess," she whispered, still rather breathless. "And I'm okay, really." Then without stopping to consider the possible consequences of her action, she lifted her hand and stroked a trembling fingertip along the fascinating crease in his cheek beside his mouth. Blue fire blazed in his eyes, immediately alerting her to the danger. Her hand dropped away.

  "Kit!" he whispered hoarsely.

  "No!" she gasped, but it was too late. His mouth descended swiftly, covering hers with arousing demand. His fingers tangled in the silky skein of her auburn hair as he cradled the back of her head in the cup of his hand. Firm caressing lips tugged hers apart, exerting a twisting pressure that opened her mouth to the onslaught of his. Agonizingly keen desire flickered to life deep inside her, then blazed forth. Raging flames consumed her body, igniting every nerve ending, scorching every inch of her skin, making his every touch both pleasure and pain. His tongue probed the softness of the lips clinging to his, then invaded the warm, sweet moistness within her mouth. He groaned, his long, lean body crushing her down into the warm sand.

  He controlled her completely. A delicious warmth spread throughout Katherine's lower limbs. As his hot possessive kisses conquered her, deepening demandingly, she became fluid warmth beneath him, responding hesitantly at first, then with a wild abandon that would have shocked her had she been able to think. But she was beyond rational thought. All she could do was feel. Her slender arms wrapped around his strong neck and she strained her young body against him, delighting in the hair-roughened tautness of his thigh imprisoning the smooth slender length of her own.

  She gloried in his masterful awakening of her senses. It was as if she had waited forever for this moment and her small fingers entwined in the thick golden hair on his nape, urging a rougher taking of her mouth.

  "Kit, give me a chance to be gentle," he whispered roughly. But as he dragged his mouth from hers, her lips clung eagerly to the firm curve of his and her eyes flickered open, softly aglow with beckoning innocence. His desire to be gentle was consumed in the raging fire her acquiescence kindled. His hard lips captured hers again with bruising force. Unsteady fingers lowered the narrow straps of her camisole top, tugging the cotton knit fabric down until the top barely covered the peaks of the firm mounds of flesh his mouth sought. The rough tip of his tongue tantalized the scented shadowed hollow until she was lost in a world of sensual pleasure, feeling truly a woman for the first time in her life. She made a sound that was almost a whimper and Jason lifted his head. "Kit, are you sure you know what you're doing?" he groaned. Yet before she could answer, he wound her hair around his hand, holding her fast as his marauding mouth plundered the soft sweetness of hers again. His hand slipped beneath the hem of her camisole, seeking the entrancing insweep of her waist. As she moved feverishly beneath him, his long sensitive fingers grazed upward, taking possession of the firm fullness of her breasts. He stroked the rounded curves, his fingers conveying barely restrained desire. The hot tumescent peaks surged against his palm and he whispered her name, his rough tone a warning.

  "Katherine, I need you! So badly," he muttered hoarsely. His unsteady fingers sought the button on the waistband of her shorts as his warm breath feathered over her lips. "If you're afraid, stop me now or you may not be able to stop me at all."

  His words and his fingertips grazing her sensitized abdomen brought her back to reality with a sickening jolt. A fear as old as the ages awakened in her as she remembered he was a man who could take whatever she offered, then never give her another thought as long as he lived. For some reason, he was offering an escape and she had to take it. With a cry muffled against his shoulder, she stilled his hand, shame and self-loathing rushing over her with the full realization of what she had done. She pushed at him and struggled free, turning over onto her side, unable to prevent a muffled groan from escaping her lips. Ashamed she had behaved so wantonly, she thought she'd never be able to forgive herself. She could hear Jason's ragged breathing begin to slow as he lay on his back beside her, then she tensed as his hand closed on her shoulder, turning her to him.

  "For heaven's sake, don't cry," he murmured, stroking her flushed cheek with the back of his hand, frowning as she flinched. "Kit, I wasn't going to do anything you didn't want."

  Blushing, she shook her head. "I know that," she whispered miserably, tears welling up in her eyes. "But I was almost willing. Until the last minute, I wanted…" Pressing her lips firmly together, she muttered, "I can't ever let that happen again. I can't let myself be used."

  Jason's jaw tightened. The warmth in his eyes vanished and he surveyed her coldly. "Used, Kit? You really think that's all I wanted to do? Gratify purely physical desires? You don't have a very high opinion of me, do you?"

  Unable to face the accusing light in his eyes, she flung her arm across her own. "I just know what kind of life you lead," she mumbled. "I know what kind of women you're accustomed to. If… if I had let you… if you had made love to me, it wouldn't have meant any more to you than it does when you make love to one of them. But I… Oh, Jason, our values are just so different and I hate myself for not remembering that before… before things went so far."

  "What a child you are, Kit," he said harshly, getting to his feet, then hauling her up beside him. His scorching blue eyes bore into the soft depths of hers. "I knew you had a childlike quality about you, but I made the mistake of assuming you were a woman in some ways, too. But you aren't. You're just a timid little girl and far too young for me. Come on, I'll take you home where you can hide safely in your room."

  Devastated by his caustic evaluation of her, Katherine longed to say something, anything, to him as he marched her up the path to his car. But her words could find no voice even as he drove her home, braking with such violence before her father's house, that a cloud of dust rose up from the back wheels. She glanced at the hard, implacable line of his jaw and a suddenly defensive anger overcame the guilt and shame she felt. As he reached across her to open her door and his arm grazed the rounded swell of her breasts, she shrank away from him. The mocking smile he gave her was the final straw. "I knew all along I couldn't trust you," she whispered furiously. "And don't you dare tell me I'm a little girl when you're just a little boy who won't do anything except spend your life playing silly games with a bunch of other men who don't want to accept responsibility."

  His lips thinned to a grim line. "Watch what you say to me, Kit," he threatened, his voice ominously low "Or I may be tempted to show you I am a man, in a way you won't soon forget."

  Though her heartbeat quickened, she tossed her head defiantly. "I'd love to see you try," she challenged, but had enough sense to make a hasty exit from the car. She slammed the door behind her and marched up the steps of her father's house, grumbling beneath her breath as she heard Jason turn the Jaguar around and leave.

  "I knew he was a cad," she muttered as she slammed into the house. "Impossible man." Still caught up in defensive indignation, she marched to the phone and called Jess Whitney, inviting her and her brother out to dinner with her father and herself the next evening. The invitation was readily accepted and when Katherine replaced the receiver, she was smiling grimly. Jason Roarke might think he was the only man in the world but she'd show him.

  Chapter Five

  Katherine had never been so bored in her life. Since her father and Jess hadn't been able to get away for dinner, it was now Katherine's responsibility to entertain the brother—no easy task. Much to her dismay, Brad Whitney was a dullard; there was no more polite way to put it. Tall and thin, he was a fairly attractive man, at least in appearance, but his personality left much to be desired. Though she had chosen one of the most
elegant, dignified restaurants in Tahoe, Brad had nothing but complaints about it.

  "It's too dark in here," he grumbled, exaggeratingly peering at his menu. "How are we supposed to read this thing without light?"

  Katherine forced a wan smile, wondering why he couldn't see when she could read the menu he held perfectly well. "I think they just use a few lamps and the candles on the tables to provide a romantic atmosphere. And I think it's romantic in here, don't you?"

  "Romantic?" He glanced up at her, frowning as if he didn't know what the word meant. "Inconvenient, if you ask me, having to strain your eyes to see."

  Katherine heaved a silent sigh, toying with the cord tie of her kelly green jersey dress, the one she had chosen to wear tonight because she thought it was the most sophisticated garment she owned. The low scalloped neckline exposed just a hint of the rounded curve of her breasts, but even that demure evidence of her femininity had seemed to embarrass Brad when they had met in the restaurant foyer for dinner. So much for trying to look sophisticated and beautiful, she thought wryly. She might as well have worn a gunny sack.

  "I suppose we'll have to sit through some flashy floor show after we finish dinner," Brad intruded on her thoughts with a snort. "One of those where half-naked girls parade back and forth on stage."

  "If you'd like to stay and see the girls, I guess we can," Katherine answered perversely. "I hadn't planned on that, but if you're really looking forward to it…"

  "Well, no, I didn't say that," Brad blustered. Then his thin lips pressed together in a disapproving line. "I can assure you I have no desire to watch such a disgusting exhibition. The kind of girls that would dance in a show like that certainly don't appeal to me."

  "And what kind of girls do you mean?" Katherine questioned, striving to hold onto her patience. "If you meant that as an insult, then I want to tell you that some of the girls who dance in the lounges at Cedars are very nice people."

  "Hmmph, nice and cheap, probably," Brad pronounced, glancing up at the maitre d' who stepped up to the table at that moment. Without consulting Katherine, he imperiously ordered every course, ending with the entree of filet of sole.

  "I hope you like sole," he finally remembered to ascertain after the maitre d' had already gone. "I do."

  Bully for you, she longed to snap at him, but since the evening was only beginning, she held her tongue. Yet it was impossible to interject a note of friendliness in her tone when she answered him. "I like sole, but I despise barley soup. I would have preferred cream of pea."

  "Barley's better for you," he announced, scraping his fingers through his short, dishwater-brown hair. "And I suggest we pass up the rich desserts and have fruit to end our meal. Processed sugar is bad for the teeth, you know."

  "Oh, that's right, you're a dentist, aren't you?" Katherine said hastily, hoping he would begin a non-stop monologue about his profession so she wouldn't have to listen or make replies.

  Her hopes were realized. All during dinner, Brad regaled her with his experiences from his first day of dental school to the last day he had spent in his private office before coming to Tahoe to visit Jess. Katherine had only to nod occasionally while she ate, though it was a miracle she didn't doze off to sleep as he relentlessly detailed his rather mundane life's story from birth up to the present time. All in all, it was one of the most boring meals Katherine had ever endured, yet she had no idea how to end the evening early without seeming rude.

  After coffee, Brad suggested they dance. After he had led her to the gleaming dance floor off to one side from the dining room, Katherine reluctantly allowed him to take her in his arms. Almost immediately, he began to cast furtive glances at the hint of cleavage exposed at the scalloped neckline of her dress. His thin arm round her waist tightened, drawing her closer and reluctant to move nearer to him, she nearly stumbled over his feet. Unfortunately, that enabled him to glide his hand upward until his palm curved against the side of her breast.

  Katherine had never been able to abide sneaks. Tensing, she stepped back from him, her green eyes flashing as they met the weak brown of his. "Don't do that again, Brad," she commanded tersely, gaining some grim satisfaction at seeing his cheeks darken with color.

  "Sorry," he muttered, dropping his hand loosely to her waist again. He shrugged. "But you are a pretty girl, Kathy, so you can't really blame me."

  "We just met tonight," she reminded him, beginning to dislike him intensely. "And this is just a dinner date, nothing more."

  "It could be more eventually," he suggested, his gaze darting surreptitiously to her cleavage again. "Jess sure would like you and me to spend a lot of time together while I'm here. And now that I've seen you, I think that's a fine idea. So why don't we go fishing together tomorrow? I know a nice little private cove. How about it?"

  Thinking she would rather go fishing with a barracuda, Katherine shook her head, though she did make an attempt to smile apologetically. "Sorry, but I have plans for tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow night then?"

  "I have plans then, too."

  To avoid the possibility that he would ask her out the day after, she blurted out the first thing that popped into her mind. "I guess Jess is enjoying having you here. Since you live so far apart, I don't suppose you get to see all that much of each other."

  "We could," Brad said, snorting derisively again. "I've tried often enough to get her to leave this place and come live with me in Philadelphia, but she doesn't have enough sense to do it. I keep telling her she's a fool to stay here, but she can't seem to drag herself away from…" His words halted abruptly as he noticed Katherine was paying no attention to what he said. "Hey, are you listening to me or am I just talking to myself?"

  Katherine was barely aware of his impatient query. Her eyes were riveted on a couple dancing across the room. A strange tightness developed in her chest as she watched Jason draw a beautiful statuesque blonde close against his lean body, then lower his head to whisper something into her ear. As the blonde responded with a provocative smile, Katherine experienced her first dagger-sharp stab of jealousy. What had Jason said to that woman to make her smile that way, she asked herself, agonizing over the possible answers that relentlessly bombarded her brain. Then she shook her head and, hating herself for succumbing to such a petty emotion, she forced herself to turn her attention back to Brad.

  "I'm sorry," she apologized absently. "I'm afraid I didn't hear what you were saying."

  "That's plenty obvious," he retorted, his thin face tight with irritation. "I was saying Jess can't seem to drag herself away from Brice, although she has to know it's stupid to stay with him. I've certainly told her that a million times. And you even told her she should leave, didn't you?"

  "Yes, but I realize now I shouldn't have," Katherine answered candidly. "I had no right to try to tell her what to do. Her personal life is none of my business."

  "Well, it's mine, let me tell you," Brad said huffily. "She may be older than I am, but she's still my sister. And I don't intend to sit around without saying a word while she lets Brice Delacorte use her. She must be out of her mind to think she loves him anyway. He's a worthless playboy and I wouldn't be surprised to learn he's a drunkard and a drug addict, too."

  "Now, wait just a minute," Katherine protested softly, her temper erupting as she glared up at Brad's pinched face. "Do I have to remind you that you're talking about my father? Oh, he has his faults; I'm the first to admit that, but I can tell you that he is not a drug user or a drunkard, as you so crudely put it. And I don't appreciate you assuming he is, just because you don't like him. If Jess loves him, there must be something good about him."

  "I doubt that," Brad countered, undaunted by her anger. "A lot of women fall for no-good bums for some strange reason. Maybe Jess is just too blind to see that, to him, women are nothing more than warm bodies."

  "You sanctimonious prig!" Katherine gasped softly, her green eyes flashing dangerously. "You dare say that about him after you tried to paw me only two hours after we m
et. At least my father's honest about what he wants from women, which is more than I can say for you. You're a hypocrite. You try to sound so moralistic, then sneakily manhandle a girl when she doesn't expect it. Well, I'm not a bit surprised Jess gets so tired of hearing sermons from you."

  Before Brad could stop spluttering and answer, Katherine pushed his arm from her waist and flounced away, too riled to even look where she was going. Suddenly she collided forcefully with a hard, unyielding object and strong hands clamped her upper arms. Her wide startled eyes darted upward and she had to bite back a groan as she looked up into Jason's unsmiling face. All she needed now to make the evening a perfectly horrendous disaster was to become embroiled in another confrontation with him.

  "Shall we dance, Kit?" he murmured astoundingly. Taking acquiescence for granted, he slipped his left arm around her narrow waist and took her small right hand firmly in his, smoothly leading her into step with the slow, hypnotic beat of the music.

  Despite Katherine's desire to be cool and aloof, she simply couldn't manage it. Dancing with Jason was far different from dancing with Brad. Jason's arm encircling her waist exerted a confident yet gentle pressure. Her fingertips, curved over his shoulders, encountered his corded muscles through the linen fabric of his sand-colored vested suit. Somehow, she felt safe in his arms, which was ridiculous because she knew what a dangerous man he could be. She wanted to feel indifferent to him, but his mere proximity played havoc with her senses as she recalled quite vividly how she had felt when he kissed her. Praying he wasn't reading her thoughts as he sometimes seemed able to do, she tilted her head back, attempting a calm, composed smile.