“I’m enjoying myself, honey. Don’t you like to have your guests enjoy themselves? Now why don’t you come on over to the couch and we’ll have our dinner together.” He sniffed appreciatively. “Smells delicious. Your talents seem to be quite endless.”
There was nothing else to do but follow him over to the white couch and join several other guests who had settled in the vicinity.
“Fantastic pasta dish, Alyssa,” Ned Grummond commended as he forked up an oversized portion. “Don’t let me forget to get the recipe from you before I leave tonight.” Ned’s portly figure gave ample evidence of his long-standing interest in food. But he apparently had other interests in life, too, Alyssa realized as he turned a beaming smile of welcome on Jordan. “So you’re an expert in probability theory, eh?”
“I make my living using various aspects of the theory, yes,” Jordan returned easily, settling down onto the couch and reaching up to assist Alyssa. The moment the strong fingers closed around her arm, she knew there wasn’t any option except to sink down beside him.
“Have to confess I’ve never been much good at math myself.” Ned sighed and was joined by several ruefully agreeing voices from those around him. “All I can do to balance my checkbook, I’m afraid. But it’s always kind of fascinated me, you know? I’ve always admired people who have a head for numbers. I know Alyssa here uses her background in the statistics area. How about you? What exactly does an expert in probability theory do?”
There was a murmur of interest from some of the others, and several people glanced inquiringly at Jordan. Do something, Alyssa, she screamed silently at herself. This is your future that’s on the line. If Jordan answers this question accurately, it’s going to shock this whole roomful of people, including your boss.
“I believe I mentioned earlier that Jordan isn’t really free to discuss his work,” she began bravely. “You know how it is with government projects.”
“That’s okay, honey,” Jordan interrupted smoothly. “I think I can talk about my subject without giving away any state secrets. Ned has asked a very good question, and you know how I love my field.”
She cast a desperately appealing glance at him and realized there was nothing she could say or do to halt the inevitable. “Are you sure you wouldn’t care for another helping of mushroom tart?” she tried valiantly, mostly for the sake of trying.
“I’ve got plenty, thanks. Actually, Ned, I’m afraid probability theory has its roots in the disreputable world of gambling,” he went on conversationally.
Ned chuckled, and so did several of the others. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I suppose there must be some direct applications.”
“Precisely,” Jordan nodded approvingly. “In fact, legend has it that it was the curiosity of gamblers that first gave rise to the questions, which, in turn, gave rise to the beginnings of the theory.”
“What kinds of questions?” Lucy Chavez inquired, leaning forward interestedly and managing to display a fair amount of bosom in the process.
“Oh, questions such as the ones some gamblers asked Galileo over three centuries ago. They wanted to know why a throw of dice turns up certain sums more often than others. Professional gamblers were still asking similar questions a hundred years later, and a lot of mathematics which developed to describe the theory of chance have a lot of useful applications, but it’s still often easier to understand them if you think in terms of a familiar game of chance.”
“Like roulette?” Lucy interjected.
“Good example,” Jordan murmured appreciatively. “Or craps or blackjack or any one of the several other games. You’d be amazed at how many people who gamble have no understanding at all of the theory behind the games.”
Alyssa choked on a small sliver of her French bread. Instantly, Jordan was all concern, slapping her heartily on the back until she managed to gasp that she was all right. The interruption, however, didn’t slow him down at all, and his listeners were fascinated.
“For example,” he went on cheerfully, reaching into his pocket and extracting a coin. “If I toss this quarter ten times and it comes down heads each time, a lot of people will think that because of some ‘law of averages’ the eleventh toss is far more likely to turn up tails than heads.”
“Isn’t it?” Ned Grummond demanded curiously, his eyes following the coin as Jordan idly flicked it into the air and caught it on the back of his hand. “I mean, after having turned up heads so many times in a row, it’s bound to eventually turn up tails.”
“In my profession, that’s sometimes affectionately known as the Monte Carlo fallacy.” Jordan grinned, displaying the coin, which had indeed landed heads. “The truth is, every toss of the coin is independent of every other toss. Assuming the quarter is a correctly made, evenly weighted coin, it’s just as likely to turn up heads on the eleventh toss as it was on the first or sixth or eighth toss. A fifty-fifty chance.” He flipped the coin again, catching it with a sureness that made Alyssa wince. “If you were betting on the outcome, you’d want to remember that every toss has a fifty-fifty chance regardless of how many tosses have been made or how many times heads has already come up.”
“Dessert anyone?” Alyssa asked quickly, surging to her feet hopefully.
“Sounds great, honey.” Jordan smiled before turning back to his audience. “Oh, and while you’re getting it, do you think you could rustle up a deck of cards?”
“Cards?” She looked at him, horror-struck.
“Cards,” he repeated firmly. “You must have a deck around. Everyone keeps one. A lot of things are easier to demonstrate with a card deck.”
When she realized everyone was looking toward her expectantly, Alyssa lost her nerve. “I’ll see what I can find.” She fled toward the kitchen, an angry red coloring her cheeks. She couldn’t believe this was happening. A sense of unreality began to take over, providing a welcome numbness.
By the time she had dished up cheesecake and produced the deck of cards, Alyssa was, in fact, becoming quite fatalistic. The evening had to end in disaster. There was no alternative. Given the inevitability of the outcome, why let herself grow tense each time Jordan responded to another question. After all, a catastrophe was a catastrophe. When it came, it would be quite final.
She looked on with her new fatalistic calm as Jordan shuffled the cards for his latest demonstration of the theory of probability. Almost idly, she wondered if anyone in the crowd watching him would notice the expertise of the shuffle. Those damned good hands were going to be her downfall, she thought. Those strong, beautifully shaped fingers were going to pull down the fragile bricks and mortar of her career just as surely as if they had planted a bomb.
“Where did you run into Kyle, Alyssa?”
She started a little as Hugh Davis appeared at her shoulder. “He’s a, uh, colleague of mine, Hugh. We’ve known each other on a professional basis for some time.” It sounded weak even to her own ears.
“Really? I’d say he considers himself a bit more than a professional colleague, wouldn’t you? He’s been calling you ‘honey’ since he came through the door.”
“Jordan’s very casual about things like that,” she managed a little grimly. Why should Hugh Davis care one way or the other how Jordan addressed her? At that moment the man in question glanced up from across the room where he was dealing a “demonstration” hand of cards for a group of interested people. The golden eyes snagged hers, and something decidedly menacing flickered in his gaze. In spite of her numbed sense of reality, Alyssa shivered. With the still-functioning feminine intuition that was born into every woman, she read the expression in his eyes very accurately.
Jordan Kyle didn’t like her proximity to Hugh Davis.
As if he had any right to object after what he’s done to me tonight, she thought vengefully.
Hugh Davis moved perceptibly closer, bending his head in what must appear a too-attentive fashion. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but something tells me you’re going to be in for a lecture after eve
ryone else goes home tonight. Your friend Kyle may be casual, but that look he’s giving me is definitely not one of easygoing camaraderie!”
Alyssa gave herself a small, inner shake and moved away from him. “If you’ll excuse me, Hugh, I think Mr. McGregor needs another slice of cheesecake.” It was only as she deliberately turned to head for the buffet table that Alyssa realized Jordan wasn’t the only one in the crowd eying her proximity to Hugh Davis. Hugh’s wife, Cari, was watching the small tableau with a sullen expression that made Alyssa uneasy.
Would this horrible evening never end?
But it did eventually, and much to Alyssa’s stunned surprise, it did so without the disastrous finale she had been expecting from the moment Jordan Kyle had entered her home.
To her everlasting astonishment, the wretched buffet party drew to a quiet, happily reluctant close as guests finally began to take their leave shortly after midnight. And each and every one of them bid good night to Jordan as if they were delighted to have encountered him.
“I hope we’ll see you around, Jordan,” David McGregor announced enthusiastically, shaking Jordan’s hand in farewell. He flicked a paternally amused glance at Alyssa, who was quietly ushering people out the door. “I assume that’s a foregone conclusion, though, isn’t it?”
“I think so,” Jordan returned suavely, following McGregor’s glance. “I have no intention of letting Alyssa out of my sight for any lengthy stretch of time. You know how women are, sir. A man needs to keep his eye on his property or he runs the risk of its getting lost, strayed or stolen.”
Alyssa shot him a distinctly unamused glance before turing to say good-by to Lucy Chavez and her date. “Good night, Lucy. I’ll see you Monday morning. Thanks for coming.”
“Oh, you know I always enjoy your parties, Alyssa,” the other woman said, laughing. “But I must say that I never dreamed the evening would be so educational!” She smiled at Jordan. “Perhaps if my math instructors had made their lessons as entertaining as you make yours, I would have gotten more out of the classes back in high school!”
“Thank you, Lucy,” Jordan said with a sincerity that caught Alyssa’s attention. He meant it, she thought to herself. He really enjoyed the compliment.
It was one of many he received as the remainder of the guests made their way out the door. By the time the last one had departed, Alyssa was forced to concede that Jordan Kyle had been the evening’s most popular attraction.
And every single one of those departing guests seemed convinced they had spent the evening being entertained by a preeminent expert in the field of probability theory. Dazed, she acknowledged the fact that not one of them had apparently guessed Jordan’s true occupation. Alyssa shut the door behind the last guest with a mixture of wonder and apprehension flooding through her.
There was only Jordan left now in the quiet room. Slowly, she turned to confront him, her eyes narrowing as anger began to break through the artificial, fatalistic calm that had overcome her during the latter half of her evening.
“I suppose,” she began seethingly, “that you think you’re rather clever!”
He eyed her for a long moment, and she wondered what he was thinking. His expression gave no clue. “I know I’m rather clever,” he corrected too mildly as he strolled over to the white couch and threw himself down on it in a lithe sprawl. His eyes gleamed. “I make my living by being rather clever, remember?”
“Jordan…” She felt the danger in him very clearly now.
“So this is how you spend your time when you’re not amusing yourself in Vegas, hmmm?” He glanced meaningfully around the living room with its litter of glasses and plates. “This is your real world?”
“Part of it,” she made herself say very bravely.
He nodded. “I enjoyed dropping in on your world tonight, Alyssa. I liked passing myself off as a mathematical scholar. I liked having people admire my abilities just as if my skills were quite respectable. It was a complete change of environment for me.” He surveyed her taut expression. “And I think I like the idea of returning to your world whenever I feel like it.”
“Jordan! You can’t mean that,” she whispered, aware of the mounting tension in the room. “What are you trying to say?”
“That I’m going to be right behind you when you shuttle back and forth between your two worlds, Alyssa. You’re not going to relegate me to Las Vegas or Reno. I’m not a tame consort who will agree to stay out of sight and out of mind until you happen to work me into your schedule. I’m not going to play the other man on weekends while you maintain a normal, proper sort of life here in Ventura during the week. If you want to come and play in my world, you’ll have to let me come and play in yours!”
“Jordan, listen to me. I realize you’re probably still a little upset about the way I postponed my arrival in Vegas until tomorrow,” Alyssa began, some instinct warning her that angry as she was, it might be wiser to placate him tonight.
“Upset? Not at all,” he drawled, watching her the way a leopard watches its prey. “Haven’t I just explained that I had a great time this evening?”
She sucked in her breath, summoning up her courage. “I think we ought to talk this all out in the morning.”
He was up off the couch in one easy movement, gliding toward her with cool menace. “What an excellent idea. We’ll save the discussion for the morning. That leaves us the remainder of the evening to clarify another matter.”
“Jordan, wait!” Eyes widening with sudden anxiety, Alyssa instinctively backed away from him.
“I have been waiting,” he said simply. “All week, I still haven’t decided yet whether or not I’m going to beat you, but I sure as hell intend to take you to bed, my reckless lady gambler. I want to make certain you understand that I’m going to play a very real role in your life.”
Panic overwhelmed her, but it was too late to run. Jordan moved, catching Alyssa up in his arms before she could even think of escape. Then he started down the corridor to her bedroom without any hesitation whatsoever.
CHAPTER SIX
IT TOOK ALMOST TWENTY SECONDS FOR Alyssa’s shock to wear off, and by then it was too late. Jordan was already striding through her bedroom door with his captive securely in his arms when her outrage finally overcame the stunned paralysis.
“Put me down,” she demanded, her sea-colored eyes more green than gray as they reflected the full force of her rising fury. “I mean it, Jordan. Let me go this instant! You have absolutely no right to treat me this way. I won’t tolerate it! Do you hear me?”
“I hear you. Do you always sound this shrewish when things aren’t going exactly as you planned them?” He seemed more interested than alarmed, and Alyssa felt anger sizzling in her blood stream.
Anger and something else. Would there always be an underlying element of passion coursing through her whenever this man touched her? That thought made her even more furious, and she used her gilded coral nails with sharp effect on his shoulders. Since she had slid her fingertips inside the collar of the suede jacket, he had no protection against the savage little attack. “Damn you, Jordan, I won’t be treated like this!”
He sucked in his breath and she sank her nails into the fabric of his dark shirt, and then he simply opened his arms and let her fall. The unexpected release startled her, and she parted her lips to cry out. But the bed came up to meet her before the small sound escaped, and she sprawled awkwardly on the thick, sand-colored quilt.
“You,” he announced grimly, leaning forward to plant a hand on either side of her, “are going to learn a few facts about me tonight that apparently escaped you last weekend. The most important of which is that as long as I’m in your life, I’m really in your life, every aspect of it. You can’t relegate me to the weekends and come back here to Ventura to flirt with that Davis character.”
“I wasn’t flirting with him!” Struggling to sit up and finding it impossible, Alyssa lay trapped within the cage of his arms, her eyes glinting with resentment and, perhaps, a
small tinge of fear. She didn’t want to acknowledge the fear, however. She refused to acknowledge it. Her determination not to do so led her to add rashly, “But even if I were, you’d have no right to object!”
His face hardened, and his eyes resembled more than ever those of a hunting cat. Where was the charmingly polite gambler? The man who had woven a spell of seduction last weekend? The man who had so entranced her guests tonight? Alyssa lay very still and tried to retain her nerve.
“He was watching you every time you moved, and I’m not the only one who noticed. His wife was aware of what was going on, too. Are you having an affair with Hugh Davis? An amusing little interlude to occupy you during the week until the weekend rolls around and you can hop a plane to Vegas?”
“For the last time, I’m not having an affair with the man!” But she was beginning to understand some of Cari Davis’s hostility. Did Hugh’s wife really believe her husband was having an affair with Alyssa? There wasn’t time to worry about that angle, however. Alyssa had her hands full dealing with her primary accuser. “But for the record, who the hell are you to stand there demanding explanations? How did you spend your week, Jordan?”
“I was working!”
“And after work? Did you pick up a lady to help you while away your off-duty hours? Or are you going to tell me you didn’t keep yourself occupied this last week?” she snapped, remembering all those nights when he hadn’t returned her phone calls. Her imagination had worked overtime during those long evenings. “Las Vegas is a city of beautiful women, and they all love winners!”
“Jealous?” he asked with savage curiosity.
“Why should I be? We have no claims on each other!” she tried to say with lofty dismissal, but inwardly she cringed because he was making no effort to deny her accusation.
“You’re wrong on that score. I sure as hell am staking a claim on you, and I intend to see to it that you honor that claim. Whatever is going on between you and Davis is over as of tonight. Understood? The only affair you’re involved in from now on is the one you’re having with me. And it’s not just a weekend arrangement!”