From the Heart

understand? Why couldn’t he see what was underneath it all? “Not everyone can rest on his laurels and bask in the sun.”
    “Oh, we’re back to that.” Jordan rose and crossed to her. “Why is it you consider my money a black mark on my character?”
    “I have no idea how many black marks you have on your character,” she retorted. “My objection to your money is that you use it to insulate yourself.”
    “From your viewpoint.”
    “All right.” She nodded. “In my view, this entire section of California is an outrage: golf, furs, parties, Jacuzzis—”
    “Excuse me.” Alison stood in the doorway and stared at both of them. It was the first time she had seen either of them angry. Jordan stifled a reply and turned to her.
    “Is it important, Alison?” His voice was calm, but his eyes weren’t. “Kasey and I are having a discussion.”
    “We’re having an argument,” Kasey corrected. “People have arguments, and I never shout during a discussion.”
    “All right.” He nodded at Kasey, then looked back at his niece. “We’re having an argument. Would you mind giving us a few minutes to finish it?”
    Alison took a step back but hesitated. “Are you going to yell at each other and everything?” There was more fascination than concern in the question, and Jordan held back a smile.
    “Yes,” Kasey told her. Alison took a long, last look, then darted for the stairs.
    Jordan laughed before he turned back to Kasey. “She’s apparently pleased at the prospect of a rip-roaring fight.”
    “She’s not alone.”
    He studied Kasey a moment. “No, I can see she’s not. Maybe you’d like to throw something. That’s always a nice touch.”
    “Which do you want to lose?” she shot back, hating that he was controlled and she was not. “The Ming vase or the Fabergé box?”
    “Kasey.” He put his hands on her shoulders. Enough, he thought, was enough. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what this is really about?”
    “Don’t patronize me, Jordan.” She stepped away from him, temper snapping. “I get enough of that from your mother.”
    There was little he could say to that, as he knew the truth of it. What he hadn’t known was that Kasey had been touched by Beatrice’s attitude in any way. Perhaps there were many things he still had to learn about Kasey. And perhaps the time to learn them was when she was upset enough to lower her guard.
    “My mother has nothing to do with you and me, Kasey.” His voice had softened, but he didn’t reach out to her.
    “Doesn’t she?” Kasey shook her head. How could it be that he didn’t notice it or understand how difficult it was to make love with him in a house in which she had to deal with constant disapproval? “Well, that’s one small point of disagreement. We have several others.”
    “Which are?”
    “Doesn’t it worry you that the most important thought in Alison’s head in five years will be what dress she wears?”
    “Good God, Kasey, what are you talking about?” Frustration made his voice as hot as anger made hers. “Will you come to the point of all this?”
    “Point?” She shouted at him now, enraged by her inability to express her feelings and his inability to understand what she was trying to say. “What point is there when you’ve absolutely no concept of how I feel or what I need?” She shook her head again. “There is no point, Jordan. No point at all.” With this, she fled through the patio doors.
    Ten minutes later Kasey sat under an oak tree in the north corner of the lawn trying to gain control of her emotions. She detested losing her temper. Nothing she had said to Jordan had made sense—to him and, barely, to herself. Honesty forced her to admit that it was basic fear that prevented her from speaking what was in her heart. She loved him too much for her own peace of mind.
    Heart or intellect—which should she listen to? Her intellect told her she shouldn’t love him. He didn’t love her. Wanted her, needed her, perhaps, cared for her. All mild, pale words compared to love. Intellect reminded her that there were too many essential differences between them to make anything but the most transitory relationship possible. Intellect stated it was time to remember her priorities—her doctorate, her work in the field. It was time to pull up stakes and get back to it.
    But her heart thrust the love on her. She was caught between the two—heart and intellect—and she was unable, for perhaps the first