From the Heart

people live without dust?
    He must belong to some very exclusive country club. I imagine there are some very classy women in his life. Kasey swore at herself and rolled over.
    She must have men in her life, Jordan thought. Other scientists, professors, probably a struggling artist or two. He cursed at himself and turned away from the window.
    Kasey pulled herself from the pool and shook the water from her hair. Well, she thought and glanced at a lounge chair, if I’m going to live with the wealthy for a while, I might as well enjoy it. She flopped down and let the sun bake the chill from her damp skin. There was something to be said for all this. Private pool, private tennis court. She let her gaze sweep the huge expanse of lawn bordered by lush, green hedges and a stone wall. She wrinkled her nose. Privacy we’ve got. I wonder how often he gets out of here. Her mind settled back on Jordan. With a sigh, Kasey accepted the fact that he would probably continue to intrude in her thoughts. Closing her eyes, she gave into jet lag and slept.
     
    “You could broil out here.”
    Kasey opened her eyes slowly and focused. “Hi.” She gave Jordan a sleepy smile.
    “You’re very fair. You’ll burn easily.”
    The hint of annoyance in his voice registered, and she studied him. “You’re right, I suppose.” She tested her skin by pressing a finger against her shoulder. “Not yet.” She gave him another direct look. “Is something wrong?”
    “No.” He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, that he hadhad a difficult time concentrating on his work knowing she was there within view of his window.
    “I’ll be a bit more up to standard tomorrow,” she told him, thinking perhaps he was irritated that she had given him only a few hours. “Planes wear me out. It must be the altitude.” Her hair was almost dry, and she pushed a hand through it absently. It appeared almost copper in the sunlight. “Do you want me?”
    He looked at her thoughtfully. “Yes, I believe I do.”
    Kasey caught the double entendre and thought it wise to stand up. “I don’t think we meant the same thing.” She smiled but kept out of reach.
    He took a step toward her, surprising both of them. On impulse, he reached out to touch her hair. “You’re a very attractive woman.”
    “And you’re a very attractive man,” she said smoothly. “And we’re going to be working in close quarters for some time. I don’t think we should—complicate things. I’m not being coy, Jordan. I’m being practical. I very much want to see this book through. It could mean every bit as much to me as it will to you.”
    “We’ll make love sooner or later, you know.”
    “Oh, really?” She tilted her head.
    “Yes, really.” Turning, he left her alone by the pool.
    Well, she thought, placing her hands on her hips. Is that so? I suppose he always gets his way. She stretched out on the lounger again. Though his high-handedness irritated her, Kasey admired his directness. He could drop the polished manners and elegance when he chose to. He might be more difficult than she had anticipated.
    It would be foolish to deny she was attracted to him and equally foolish to act on the attraction. Kasey frowned and twisted a curl around her finger. What did Kathleen Wyatt have in common with Jordan Taylor? Nothing. She would not, could not, involve herself emotionally or physically with a man unless there was a firm base. Attraction wasn’t enough, nor was respect. There was a need for affection, for friendship. Kasey wasn’t at all certain she could be friends with Jordan Taylor. Time would tell, she told herself and settled back again. Then a movement caught her eye.
    Looking over, Kasey smiled and raised her hand in a wave. Alison seemed to hesitate for a moment, then walked over to join her.
    “Hi, Alison. Did you just get out of school?”
    “Yes, I just got home.”
    “I’m playing hookey.” Kasey leaned back against the cushions again. “Ever played hookey?”
    Alison looked horrified. “No, of course not.”
    “Too bad, it can be fun.” A sweet child, Kasey thought, and much too lonely. She shot the young girl a grin. “What are you studying?”
    “American poets.”
    “Have a favorite?”
    “I like Robert Frost.”
    “I always liked Frost.” Kasey smiled as lines flitted through her mind. “His poems always remind me of my grandfather.”
    “Your grandfather?”
    “He’s a doctor in a remote section of West Virginia. Blue mountains,