From the Heart

not becoming emotionally . . .” Harry searched around for the proper phrase. “Entangled?”
    “Am I in love with her?” Jordan frowned. He sunk the nine ball and scratched. “I haven’t the faintest idea. I know I want her.”
    “My dear boy,” Harry began, “sex is . . .” He faltered and cleared his throat.
    “Yes?” Jordan prompted, failing to suppress a grin.
    “A necessary part of life,” Harry finished stiffly.
    “Harry, you surprise me.” His grin widened. “Your shot.”
    Both men glanced over as the door burst open.
    “God, Jordan, you really should post road maps.” Kasey strolled in carrying a thick book. “I’ve never seen so many corridors. Your book, Dr. Rhodes.” She set it on a table and blew her bangs from her eyes. “Have I trod on sacred ground?”
    Jordan leaned on his stick. Why was it that a room seemedto come to life when she walked into it? “Would it matter?” he asked her and smiled.
    “Of course not. I’m always treading on sacred ground. Can I have a drink?”
    “Vermouth? I haven’t stocked tequila down here.”
    “Yes, thanks.” She was already involved with a survey of the room.
    It was large and open with a gratifying absence of silks or brocades. The wood-planked floor she had imagined in the parlor was in evidence, and there were simple bamboo shades at the windows. It was scrupulously clean, but there were signs of living. A fat candle had been burnt down halfway in its pewter holder. A collection of record albums were stacked on a shelf, one or two of them at odd angles.
    “I like this room,” she said and walked to a glass table that held a few pieces of primitive pottery. “Very much,” she added as she turned to accept the glass of vermouth from Jordan. “Thank you.”
    He wasn’t sure why her approval pleased him, but he knew it did. She tilted her head as if trying to see him from a new angle.
    “This is your room,” she murmured. “Like the study.”
    “I suppose you could put it that way.”
    “Good.” She sipped at her drink. “I’m beginning to like you, Jordan. I almost wish I didn’t.”
    “We seem to have the same problem.”
    With a nod, she moved away. “Pool, huh? Don’t let me interrupt you. I’ll just finish my drink before I head back into the maze.” She glanced around the room again. It was the only room in the house, other than the study, where she felt comfortable. “I’d like to talk to you about the book when you’ve finished it, Dr. Rhodes.”
    “Of course.” Her smile, he thought, was indeed very appealing. “Perhaps you’d like to join us for a game, Miss Wyatt,” he offered, surprising himself.
    “That’s very nice of you.” She smiled again and watched with affection as he straightened his shoulders. “I’m sure you’re betting, though, aren’t you?”
    “That’s not necessary,” Harry said.
    “Oh, but I wouldn’t want you to change the rules for me.”Kasey sipped again and eyed a pool stick. “What are the stakes? Perhaps they’re in my range.”
    “I’m sure we can accommodate you, Kasey.” Jordan paused to light a cigar. “How about a dollar a ball?”
    “A dollar a ball,” she repeated and approached the table. “Let’s see, how many are there?” She frowned and counted. “Fifteen. I suppose I can handle that. How do you play?”
    “Rotation might be simplest,” Jordan commented and glanced at Harry.
    “Fine.” The older man began to chalk his cue.
    “Rotation,” Kasey repeated, then smiled as Harry handed her his cue. “What are the rules?”
    “The object is to sink the balls into the pockets in chronological order,” Jordan explained. She was wearing earrings tonight, he noticed. Small silver hoops that caught the light. Even across the table, her scent reached out to him. He brought himself back. “Or hit the next ball in order into another and sink that one, or as many as possible. Hit the cue ball, the white one, knocking it into the other balls from the lowest number to the highest. The object is to clear all the numbered balls from the table.”
    “I see.” Kasey frowned down at the green baize and nodded. “It certainly sounds simple enough, doesn’t it?”
    “You’ll catch on, Miss Wyatt,” Harry told her gallantly. “Would you like to practice first?”
    “No, why don’t we dive right in?” She sent him another smile. “Who goes first?”
    “Perhaps you’d care to break,” Harry continued, feeling expansive as Jordan racked