by Ginna Gray
The lines of strain slowly eased from Trace's face as he drank in the sight of her. A small flame leaped in the hazel depths when his eyes met hers and clung.
"Well, my boy, I'm sorry we're so late," Tom said, breaking into the strange spell that locked them together. "But you know how it is when women get to primping. I hope none of the guests have arrived yet."
"No, not yet. But they should start arriving any time now." Holding both of Katy's hands, Trace stepped back and let his warm gaze roam over her from head to toe, then back again. "And I must say, your daughter is well worth waiting for."
A warm blush flooded Katy's cheeks when she met that intent, possessive stare. Blatant, male appreciation written in every line of his ruggedly handsome face, Trace repeated his inspection, slower this time.
Her chiffon dress was a pale powder blue at the top, where the simple draped bodice, supported by two thin straps, lovingly clung to her breasts and waist. From there the flared, floating skirt gradually deepened in color, reaching a dark midnight blue where it swirled like a delicate cloud around her ankles. It was an utterly simple, devastatingly feminine dress that gave her skin a pearly cast and brought out the color of her eyes.
It was part of the new wardrobe Trace had insisted upon buying for her. It seemed to Katy that she had bought more clothes in the past three weeks than she had in her entire adult life. With Jane's help, she had scoured all of the Tyler dress shops and a good many in Dallas as well. She had been hesitant about accepting his offer, but now, seeing the look in his eyes, Katy was glad she had. In any case, she knew that, as mistress of Green Meadows, she would need presentable clothes, and her father certainly couldn't afford to pay for such an elegant trousseau,
Smiling, Trace placed his hand lightly on the back of her waist and urged her toward the house. "Come inside. If we hurry, I'll just have time to give you your engagement present before our guests start arriving."
"Another present? Trace, you shouldn't have done that. You've given me so much already."
Her protests fell on deaf ears. Inside the house, Trace ushered her into his study and closed the door behind them. While she stood uncertainly in the middle of the floor he went to his desk, unlocked it and removed a square, flat box from the top drawer.
"I hope you like it," he said softly, as he placed it in her trembling hands. "When I saw it, I thought of you."
Katy lifted the lid and gasped. "Oh, Trace. It's beautiful."
In the velvet-lined box lay a necklace of brilliant sapphires and diamonds. In the finely wrought setting they resembled a chain of exquisite flowers, each vivid blue stone surrounded by a circle of diamonds and nestled in a bed of platinum leaves. The clusters were connected by an entwined strand that resembled a delicate, trailing vine.
"Here, let me put it on for you," he offered, as she continued to gape at the sparkling necklace.
Katy obediently turned around, and as the cool stones settled against her skin, she tilted her head forward and pulled the long fall of hair over her shoulder, exposing the nape of her neck. The feel of his warm fingers brushing against her flesh made Katy shiver.
Trace guided her to the wall mirror and stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. His eyes met hers in the mirror. "Do you like it, Katy?"
"Oh, Trace. How could anyone not like it? It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Does it deserve a kiss?"
She stared at his reflection, her heart pounding against her chest. During the past three weeks he had made no attempt to kiss her, other than brushing his lips across her forehead when he told her good night. He had touched her often, his hand cupping her elbow, or lightly pressing against the small of her back when they walked together, or sometimes just holding hers, but never in any way that frightened her or made her unduly nervous. But now he wanted to kiss her. Though she didn't find the idea totally repugnant, Katy wasn't sure she wanted their current, easy relationship to change.
Seeing the indecision in her eyes, Trace took it for refusal. "Forget it, Katy," he said with soft regret. "I didn't mean to press you."
Strangely, his quick retraction made up her mind for her, and, turning around, she placed her hand on his arm. "No, Trace, I—I didn't ... I mean ... if you want to kiss me, you may," she offered hesitantly.
"Are you sure?"
She wasn't. She wasn't sure at all. But it was too late to back out now. Swallowing her fear, she nodded.
Very gently, very cautiously, Trace slipped an arm around her waist and drew her close. His other hand came up under her chin and cupped her jaw, tilting her head up. An incredibly tender light glittered in the deep-set hazel eyes as they roamed over her face, touching on each delicate feature like a caress.
Trembling within that gentle, possessive embrace, Katy was acutely aware of the warmth of his body against hers, that clean, masculine scent she had come to associate with Trace alone, and the heavy throb of his heart beneath her hand. Her own heart was racing so fast she thought for a moment she was going to faint. But then, as his head began a slow, purposeful descent. Trace whispered, "I love you, Katy," and her eyes fluttered shut.
The kiss was soft, and infinitely gentle. His lips caressed hers with a tender passion that was rigidly controlled, tasting and exploring their trembling softness almost reverently. Katy was shaking, but she knew it was not altogether from fear. An almost unbearable excitement tingled through her like an electric current.
Trace made no effort to deepen the kiss and, after a moment, drew slowly away and smiled down into her face.
"Did you find that too unbearable?" he asked huskily.
"No." The surprise in her voice was plain, even to her own ears, and Trace's smile widened.
"Good. That's an encouraging sign."
Frowning, Katy opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment there was a sharp rap on the door, then it was thrust open and Saundra stepped inside.
Her expression grew hard when she spied the embracing couple. It grew even harder when her eyes lit on the necklace encircling Katy's throat. "For heaven's sake, Trace! This is hardly the time for kiss and cuddle," she snapped, and Katy felt her face crimson. "The first carload of guests has just driven up. I hope you don't expect me to entertain them alone."
The next half hour was spent greeting the steady stream of guests. Katy stood at Trace's side, a stiff, polite smile pasted on her face as she was introduced to one stranger after another. It wasn't long until the house was overflowing.
It seemed that all of Trace's relatives, no matter how distant, had come to take a look at the woman he had chosen. Katy squirmed under their intent scrutiny. Her stomach was fluttering with nerves. In addition to his family, he had also invited all his friends and business acquaintances. The only people Katy knew were Jane and Frank, and the other farm workers and their families.
Saundra had been livid over the inclusion of the workers, but Katy had very quietly and firmly insisted that they be invited, and in the end she had won. She and her father had no relatives in the United States. Except for the Cawleys, the other workers and their families were her only friends, and she was determined that they should attend the party. All Saundra's protests had fallen on deaf ears, and her appeal to Trace had met with equal failure. He had backed Katy to the hilt.
During the entire evening Trace remained close to Katy's side, his arm curved possessively around her waist, or draped over her shoulders as they circulated among the guests. Katy met so many new people that she was positive she would never keep the names straight and after a while even stopped trying. She was acutely aware of the many covert glances they received and could not help but wonder if they looked like a happily engaged couple. Trace certainly appeared happy, but Katy was very much afraid her own apprehension was plain for everyone to see.
The formal announcement of their engagement was made around ten o'clock. Katy suffered deep embarrassment at being the cynosure of every pair of eyes in the room, but at least when it was over she fe
lt that the worst was behind her, and her nervous tension began to ease somewhat.
After the toasts were made and the good wishes were received, Trace maneuvered them through the crowd to join the Cawleys and Katy's father, standing a little to one side by the open French doors that led onto the patio.
"Katy, dearest, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight," Jane said, smiling up at her when they joined the group. "And I must say, you've handled this whole affair quite well. Before you know it, parties like this will be old hat to you."
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Trace interjected. "We'll entertain occasionally, a few close relatives and friends, but nothing on the scale of the parties that my father and Saundra gave. I prefer a more quiet life, and I think Katy does also." He waved his hand in an encompassing gesture. "This party tonight is a once-in-a-lifetime occasion."
Katy sent him a grateful smile. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, i don't think I could endure this sort of thing too often."
"Don't worry, sweetheart, you won't have to. I've no intention of getting caught up in a mad social whirl. That was part of my quarrel with my father, one of the reasons why I left the farm four years ago. Our priorities didn't mesh at all. His idea of what was important and mine were diametrically opposed."
Katy looked up at him, surprised. This was the first time he had mentioned the quarrel with his father. Though she didn't want to believe it, she couldn't help but wonder if his other reason for leaving had to do with Saundra.
"I echo my daughter's thanks, Trace," Tom said in a relieved tone. "She informed me tonight I'd have to attend whatever parties you two hosted, and I'll confess I wasn't looking forward to becoming a social butterfly at this late stage in life."
Trace laughed aloud at the look of outright distaste on the older man's face. "We'll make it as easy on you as we can, Tom."
Katy felt as though a load had been lifted from her shoulders. Smiling, she turned her head to speak to Jane and froze, the words dying on her lips as she caught sight of Saundra making her way toward them, her arms linked familiarly with the two men on either side of her. Shock widened Katy's eyes and drained every hint of color from her face. Her features working convulsively, she began to shake her head from side to side, a stark, mindless terror gripping her.
The violent tremors shaking her body were transmitted to Trace through his encircling arm, and he looked down at her quickly, alarm leaping into his eyes at her tormented expression.
"My God! What is it, Katy? What's wrong?" he demanded in a frantic voice.
But Katy was incapable of speech. Looking at her panic-stricken face, Trace realized she hadn't even heard him. Fear had her by the throat; she was oblivious to everything else. When she tried to back away Trace wouldn't let her, his arms tightening protectively around her as his eyes made an urgent, sweeping search of the room, seeking the cause of her distress.
It was then he noticed Tom's aggressive stance. His huge frame was taut and poised menacingly. His hands were bunched into tight fists at his sides. A low, vicious growl rumbled from the older man's chest. He was like a wild animal tensing for attack.
Trace tracked Tom's murderous gaze to the approaching trio, then swung back sharply, his eyes narrowing in dawning comprehension. His face grew hard, his body stiffening as he unconsciously drew Katy nearer.
"They're the ones, aren't they?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice.
Both Jane and Frank looked at him in wary confusion, sensing the deadly threat in his tone and wondering at the cause. Wisely, both remained silent.
"Yes." Tom spat the word out. His rage was almost a tangible thing.
"Trace, darling. Look who's here," Saundra called, her eyes sparkling with malicious glee.
Paralyzed with fear, Katy stared at the two men, bile rising in her throat as she met their nasty, knowing smiles. Never, never would she forget those faces. At the moment they wore the haughty, bored look common among the idle rich in Saundra's social circle, but Katy could still see the vicious anger that had twisted those aristocratic features three years ago, the terrible, ugly violence that had flared out of control. Tearing her eyes away, she tried to force back the ghastly, terrifying memories, but it was no use. She could feel their eyes on her, and her skin crawled.
There was no remorse in them, no apology, no guilt. They didn't even bother to hide their amusement, their vindictive, slightly lustful eyes sliding insultingly over her.
"This is Vince Wilby and Edgar Hollis. Two very dear, very close friends of Katy's," Saundra continued in an insinuating voice. Her smile grew wider when her attention switched to the ashen-faced girl in Trace's arms, her brows arching in feigned surprise. "Why, whatever is the matter, Katy? Don't tell me you're shy? Surely not! Not after the . . . ah . . . intimate relationship you shared with Vince and Edgar a few years ago?"
The poisonous innuendo tore an anguished cry from Katy's throat. Turning blindly, she buried her face against Trace's chest.
His hand came up to cradle the back of her head and press her closer as he strained to absorb the convulsive shudders that racked her slender frame. Burning anger radiated from him in white-hot waves.
"Did you invite these men here?" His eyes stabbed through Saundra with the deadly precision of cold steel.
Saundra could not ignore the barely leashed fury in his tone, or the protective way he held the frightened girl in his arms. Her carefully made-up face grew hard, her eyes glittering with hatred. AH pretense of friendliness was dropped.
"Yes!" she flared defiantly. "Did you really think I'd just stand by calmly and watch you make a fool of yourself by marrying this . . . this nobody? She's noth ing but a cheap tramp. Just ask Vince and Edgar. They can tell you. . . ."
"Shut up, Saundra," Trace snarled.
"No! I won't shut up! Did you know that your precious fiancee is nothing but a tawdry little tease? That only a few years ago she deliberately lured poor Vince and Edgar here into the woods and—"
"That's enough!" Trace's hard-boned face was white with anger, his nostrils pinched, his mouth a hard line.
A muscle twitching in his cheek warned of his tenuous control over the rage building within him. "I have never hit a woman in my life," he grated through clenched teeth. "But I swear to you, Saundra, you say one more word against Katy and I'll slap you silly."
Saundra blanched and stepped back. It was no bluff, and she knew it.
The two men at her side stirred restlessly, their eyes shifting with uncertainty between Saundra and Trace. The leering grins had disappeared.
Very slowly, with dangerous deliberation, Trace turned to Jane and handed Katy into her care. "Take her to the study and give her some brandy, will you? I'll be there just as soon as I've cleared out the vermin."
He turned his cold, implacable gaze on Saundra. "You've got exactly thirty minutes to pack your bags and get out. If you're not gone by then, I'll throw you out bodily, with a great deal of pleasure."
"You can't do this to me!" she protested angrily. "This is my home!"
"Correction. This is my home. And you're no longer welcome here."
Saundra sputtered and fumed for a moment, but Trace's hard, unblinking stare finally silenced her. With one last, furious glare in Katy's direction, she spun on her heel and stalked out.
Vince and Edgar turned to follow, but Trace stopped them. His voice was ominously soft, an unmistakable, steely threat running through the velvet tones.
"Oh, no. I think not. We have some unfinished business, I believe." He bared his teeth in a travesty of a smile as he met their startled glances. There was no doubt of his intent.
"Now see here," the man called Vince began to bluster. His eyes darted nervously to his companion for support. "If you think we're going to stand still for this . . ."
"I don't think. I know." Trace's voice cut across his protest like a well-honed axe. The finality in his tone was chilling.
Stepping to one side, he gestured toward the patio doors. "Shall we step
outside. Unless, of course, you'd like me to wipe up the floor with you right here in front of the other guests."
The two men turned a sickly gray, perspiration beading their faces. Edgar Hollis swallowed hard and ran one finger around the inside of his collar. "Come now, Mr. Barnett, can't we talk this over? There's no need for violence."
"Oh, there's a need, all right," Trace assured him, softly, dangerously. "I feel a fierce need."
Shrugging out of his jacket, he handed it to Frank, his eyes never leaving the two cowering men. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to roll up his shirt sleeves. "Now, you two can either walk out that door in the next five seconds, or I'll haul you both out by the scruff of the neck. The choice is yours."
"Do you need any help?" Frank asked as the two men moved reluctantly toward the door. Having heard the story from his wife, Frank had worked out the reason for Trace and Tom's anger, and his own slow-rising temper had flared hotly.
"Thanks, but no. This privilege belongs solely to Tom and me. "Trace smiled and looked at his future father-in-law, his eyes glowing with anticipation. "I think we can handle this. Don't you, Tom?"
Tom brightened instantly. He rubbed his hands together, a slow, eager smile splitting his face. "You know it, lad. You know it."
Katy could barely recall being led through the crowd of interested spectators, or drinking the glass of brandy Frank had pressed into her hand. Reaction had set in. She lay curled in a tight bail on the leather sofa in Trace's study, her fist jammed against her mouth. Her eyes were strangely blank and her skin looked like alabaster. She made no sound. No move.
Jane sat beside her on the couch and stroked the silky black hair away from Katy's temple. Her eyes were clouded with worry. Now and then her gaze sought her husband, as he paced restlessly up and down the room, but neither said a word.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door was thrust open and Trace entered. His eyes went immediately to the huddled figure on the couch. In three long strides he crossed the room and knelt beside her. There was a slight tremor in the hand that gently cupped her face.