From the Heart Read Free Page A

Wyatt. You’re up early.”
    “I suppose I haven’t adjusted to the time change.” Her voice, he realized all at once, wasn’t eastern but had the slightest hint of the south. “I went for a run.”
    “A run?” he repeated, distracted from trying to place the vague accent.
    “Yes, I’m into running.” She lifted her face and studied the perfect sky. “Actually, I was into running before it was something to get into. Even though I resent being part of a trend, I can’t stop. Do you swim every morning?”
    “Whenever I can.”
    “Maybe I’ll try that instead. Swimming uses more muscles, and you don’t sweat.”
    “I never thought about it quite that way.” After pulling himself from the water, he reached for a towel.
    Kasey watched as he briskly rubbed his hair. His body, glistening with droplets of water, was lean and hard and brown. There were ropings of muscles in his arms and shoulders. The hair on his chest was blond, like the lighter streaks on his head that the sun had bleached. The brief suit clung to his hips. Kasey discovered she had been right about the athletic body beneath the conservative suit. She felt a flutter of desire and ignored it. This was not a man to become involved with, and now was not the time.
    “Swimming’s certainly kept you in shape,” she observed.
    He paused for a moment. “Thank you, Miss Wyatt.” He shook his head and picked up a short terry robe.
    Kasey stood in one swift, fluid motion. Her head was level with his chin. “Would you like to get started after breakfast? If you’ve something else to do, I can just go over your outline and notes myself.”
    “No, I’d like very much to get started. The idea of picking your brain becomes more intriguing by the minute.”
    “Really?” Her smile flashed over her face. “I hope you won’t be disappointed, Jordan. I’m going to call you Jordan now. We’d have gotten to it sooner or later.”
    He nodded in agreement. “Do I call you Kathleen?”
    “I certainly hope not.” She grinned. “No one else does.”
    It took him a moment to understand. “Kasey, then.”
    He was looking at her again in that deep, searching mannerthat left her slightly disconcerted. Jordan watched a frown come and go in her eyes.
    “Can we eat?” she demanded. It would be simpler, she decided, if they got down to more practical matters. “I’ve been hungry for hours.”
     
    Kasey and Jordan closed themselves in the study immediately after breakfast. The room was large, its walls lined with books. Here a scent of old leather and new polish mixed with tobacco. Kasey much preferred it to the other parts of the house she had seen. Here she could detect signs of production, though it was scrupulously organized production. There were no scattered papers, no precariously piled books.
    Large, dark-framed glasses perched on her nose, Kasey sat by the window reading Jordan’s notes. Her feet were bare, and one swung idly in the air as she scanned the pages.
    She wasn’t beautiful, Jordan decided. Not in the classic sense, at any rate. But her face was arresting. When she smiled, it seemed she lit from the inside out. Her eyes seemed to hold some private joke. She was tall and boyishly slim, narrow-hipped and long-legged. A man, he thought, would find angles rather than curves when he got into her bed. He frowned, annoyed with the turn of his mind.
    There was a coltishness in her moves—an excitement and vibrancy which raced through her conversation as well. Now it was as though she had turned down the power. She was silent. Her features were tranquil. Her only movement was the carelessly swinging bare foot.
    Kasey had been perfectly aware of Jordan’s survey. “You have a fascinating story in the works here,” she said, rupturing the silence and the sudden hum of sexual tension that had begun between them.
    “Thank you.” He cocked a brow. He had felt the tension, too, and was as wary of it as she.
    Pulling up her legs, Kasey picked up a