by Sandra Brown
His lips crushed hers even as his embrace became more binding. She was still angry and tried vainly to push him away. But her thrusting hands against the wall of his chest were ineffectual, and she gave up her efforts about the same time his tongue insinuated its way into her mouth.
The hands which had strained against him were now weaving through the luxuriant richness of his hair. His hand moved to the side of her face, and he stroked her cheek with his thumb while his mouth demanded more… and more.
At last he drew away. He continued to look down at her tenderly as his index finger smoothed over her stubble-chafed, burning lips. “Katherine, I knew why young Cooper was up here. I saw his mother outside before I came in. But don’t disillusion yourself. I’m fiercely possessive.” He kissed her lightly on the nose before he turned and left the room.
His volatile moods confused her, bewildered her. Would she ever know the person, Jason Manning, completely?
* * *
The president of Van Buren College had given Katherine the following week off. When Jace had called him about Ronald Welsh, the administrator had asked him to convey that message to her.
“He said there had been five or six girls over a period of about two years in that office. Now they know why,” he said disdainfully. “Anyway, they’re sending over a new guy from the administration building to revamp the whole public relations department. He said you wouldn’t be needed this week, but, of course, you’ll be paid.” His contempt was plain. “Do you want to go back?”
“I don’t know,” Katherine answered honestly. “So much has happened these past few days, I really haven’t given it much thought. I don’t think I could sit idle here in the apartment with only Allison to look after. I’ve worked ever since I was in high school.”
“Well, think about it this week,” Jace suggested logically. “Something unexpected might turn up.” His smile was enigmatic, but no amount of persuasion on her part would coax him to elaborate.
Katherine thought back to this conversation as she stepped out of the shower and slipped into a lightweight wrapper. What was behind the mysterious words Jace had spoken to her last night? What was he planning now? Why wouldn’t he tell her?
Jace could be extremely stubborn at times. Each day she saw a new facet of his personality. Grudgingly she admitted that most of them were favorable.
She finished applying her makeup and drying her hair. Straightening up the dressing table, she noted the masculine objects which had suddenly invaded her feminine domain.
She picked up Jace’s injector razor. His initials were engraved in the sterling silver handle. Who had given it to him? It wasn’t the kind of thing one bought for oneself. A woman? He had never mentioned previous affairs, though Katherine was certain there must have been many.
What was the middle initial L for? She didn’t even know her husband’s full name. Hadn’t he asked for hers just before they were married? She couldn’t remember. That day was like a hazy dream in her brain.
A matching sterling cup held his spicy shaving soap. Didn’t most men use an aerosol foam? She was so ignorant of the opposite sex.
Every once in a while Katherine had a foggy memory of her father. She could recall special things he’d said or done. Once he’d punished her, then wept louder than she had after the spanking. That was a vivid recollection.
But she couldn’t remember his things. All of his possessions had seemed to vanish from their house when he vanished from their lives. Had he used such a razor?
A bottle of masculine fragrance caught her eye and she reached for it. She studied the label and recognized the name. The television commercials touting this particular product were very suggestive.
“Nothing comes between my woman and me except my Temper.”
The handsome male model was always shirtless and lying in bed with a sheet discreetly covering him from the hips down. Another time he rode into the camera on a motorcycle and showered gravel in all directions before the camera came in for a close-up. He said, “My Temper doesn’t always show, but it’s there.”
Katherine noticed all commercials, for she aspired to write them. She smiled at the Temper ads. Weren’t they just a bit trite? She held the bottle of cologne to her nose and sniffed it with absentminded appreciation.
Or were the men on Madison Avenue right on the pulse of things? Wasn’t her heart beating faster after catching one fragrant whiff? Strange. It wasn’t the model’s face her mind conjured up. It was—
Katherine jumped in surprise and guilty abashment as the door opened behind her.
Jace looked at her in the mirror and said teasingly, “I hope you like it.”
Katherine thought with a detached part of her mind that the model who represented Temper had nothing over the man who was her husband.
“Yes, yes, I do. I was just… uh…” Why was she stammering like a blithering idiot? This was her house first!
“Allison’s down for her nap. I was reading the newspaper to her, but she konked out after the front page.” He grinned.
“Thank you for watching her. It’s nice being able to take a leisurely bath without having to listen for her.”
“You’re welcome. My small contribution was well worth the results. You look beautiful this morning.” He came forward and turned her to face him. Their conversation had been conducted in the mirror. He enfolded her in his arms, but only brushed a kiss on her forehead.
“I’ve got to go out to the drilling site today, so I may not be back until late this evening.” He was dressed for work in a very old, very tight pair of faded jeans, an equally faded short-sleeved shirt, and scuffed cowboy boots.
“Are they drilling yet?”
“If they did everything they were supposed to do last week, they should be able to start today. Incidentally, your friend Jim Cooper has joined the ranks.”
She looked up at him. He hadn’t released her from his arms. “You’re the foreman, aren’t you?” Having spent this short time in his company she sensed that he had downplayed his position with the oil company. Sunglow was one of the most prestigious oil companies in America, and holding even a junior executive’s job would be no small feat.
“Yeah, in a manner of speaking,” he shrugged. “But I couldn’t do without my crew. They’re all good men. We’ve been together a long time.”
His shrugging motion had caused a tremor to course through Katherine’s body. By his holding her tightly, she was made acutely aware of his least movement. When his chest stirred against her breasts, she involuntarily responded with a physical reaction.
His perception didn’t fail him. He recognized the change in her instantly. “Are they still bothering you?” he asked kindly. “The scratches and bruises on your breasts? We may have to take you to a doctor yet.” He sounded genuinely worried.
“No, Jace,” she rushed to assure him. “They’re healed and I’m fine.”
“Let me see.”
“What?” The soft question exploded out of her mouth in a puff of air. “No, really, it’s… they’re…”
Her voice trailed off as he stepped away from her and deftly untied the sash of her wrapper. Slowly, his hands parted the garment. She held her breath as his gaze took in the length of her naked body before his eyes came to rest on her breasts.
The angry red scratches left by Ronald Welsh’s assault had faded to thin pink lines. The bruises were now only faint shadows on the honey-toned skin.
“I… I think you’re right. They’re healing okay.” Jace’s voice was strangled and hoarse. He lifted his eyes to hers. She read in them apology and supplication as his arm went inside the robe and encircled her waist. With his other hand he cupped a breast. His touch was so gentle she wasn’t sure she didn’t imagine it.
The dark head bent toward her and Katherine closed her eyes and parted her lips to receive his kiss. He moved his lips over hers and drew her closer until her sensitive skin knew intimately the soft fabric of his clothes. His mouth was possessive but
gave as much as it took, delighting her with the slightest flicking of his tongue.
He ventured to her neck and nuzzled the hollow of her throat with his mouth. Ever so lightly his thumb brushed across her nipple. Like a bow string being pulled taut, Katherine arched her back. A small moan escaped her.
His mouth hovered over her breast. Katherine felt his warm breath on her skin as his thumb continued its lazy stimulation, arousing her to inconceivable passion.
When her nipple was a peak of desire begging for assuagement, she pleaded, “Jace—”
He groaned against her, “Oh, God, sweetheart.” Then his mouth captured the aching nipple and surrounded it with a sweet, wet warmth.
The raven black hair tickled her skin as his head pressed against her chest. Katherine caught his head with impatient hands and held it fast, lest his mouth cease the delicious, gentle pull. His hand slid lower on her hip, pressing her nearer and demanding her to realize the strength of his desire. Without even being aware of her motion, Katherine rotated her hips against that thrilling force in a rhythmic massage.
His breath was ragged as he pushed her away from him with a swift shove. He hung his head for a moment, gulping in long breaths while he maintained a strong grip on her upper arms.
Katherine trembled in anxiety. Once when she had allowed a date to indulge in what she considered to be harmless necking, he had become aroused to the point of no return. He was furious when she denied him appeasement and had slapped her, calling her ugly names and accusing her of deliberately leading him on. Though he had crudely satisfied himself with his hand and disgusted her with apologies and excuses afterward, she knew his aspersions had been largely the truth. She liked the kissing and stroking but had never cared enough for anyone to complete the act. In sexual games she hadn’t played fair, and she knew it. For some reason she didn’t want Jace to think she was tormenting him with some diabolical trick in mind.
“Jace?” she asked tremulously. “Are you all right?” His face was flushed and his shoulders still heaved while he inhaled harshly.
He laughed ruefully. “Hardly,” he said. “But if you keep on doing things like that, I’ll never leave today, and I really need to go to work.”
She had returned his passion. She confessed to that. If he had wanted to consummate their marriage, she would have been eager to participate.
“I’m sorry,” she said and meant it. She felt the loss, the dissatisfaction, as surely as he did.
“Sorry?” His blue eyes sparkled. “I’m not one bit sorry that my wife has the body of a goddess.” He planted a smacking kiss between her breasts before he closed her robe and tied the sash with regretful finality. “You’ve probably made it damned hard for me to keep my mind on my business today, but I’ll make such a sacrifice any day.” He sighed theatrically and chucked her under the chin before he left.
Chapter Eight
The following Saturday morning Jace asked Katherine if she wanted to drive out to the drilling site with him.
“I’ve put the crew on overtime. I’d like to run out there and check on things. It shouldn’t take long. Would you like to go?”
The past week had been a welcomed relief from Katherine’s normal early morning routine. Getting Allison bathed, dressed, fed, and carried to Happy’s house before leaving for work was a dreaded task. Katherine had enjoyed these unexpected mornings off.
She managed to keep busy, rearranging closets and drawers, making room for the new resident in her house. Toward the end of the week she ran out of projects and was growing restless. Having worked most of her life, idleness was far more tiring to her than labor.
“Yes, I’d like that,” she said in response to Jace’s invitation. “I’ve never been near an oil derrick before.” Listening to him talk about his work had broadened her vocabulary.
“Well, I’ve been getting a lot of flack from the crew,” he complained. “They think you’re a figment of my imagination. They’re not going to believe that I do indeed have a wife and baby daughter until I present you to them. Of course, Jim Cooper has been singing your praises to the sky, but no one puts much stock in that besotted kid.”
She glanced at him in irritation, but it pleased her to know that he had mentioned her to the men he worked with. Why it pleased her, she didn’t stop to examine. A warm sensation surrounded her heart as she looked at him across the breakfast table—a breakfast he had insisted on cooking.
She asked with feigned nonchalance, “What did you tell them about me?”
“Let’s see. If I recall”—he drawled and squinted his eyes in deep concentration—“I told them that you had hair the color of honey with sunlight shining through it. Your eyes, I described as deep forest pools with overhead trees reflected in them. I told them that your body was beyond description, except to say that your bosom was of unbelievable proportions. Of course, you never wear any underwear even under the tight T-shirts and supertight jeans you prefer.”
“Jace! You couldn’t—” she cried before she caught the mischievous glint in his eyes. When he burst out laughing at her chagrin, she couldn’t help but join in. Allison gazed at them both in bored condescension.
“I’m afraid if that’s how you described me, they’ll be sorely disappointed.”
His black brows hooded his eyes as he said softly, “No. They won’t be disappointed.”
Her heart did a somersault. Not since the morning when he had kissed her in the bathroom had he made any overt advances. She knew by now that aggression wasn’t his style. He conquered with subtlety. All week his kisses had amounted to no more than affectionate pecks on the cheek or forehead. She found it disconcerting that somehow his restraint made her long for his touch.
One evening he had asked her to join him on the sofa to watch the late news on television. She settled herself at the opposite end of the sofa, but he said, “Un-uh,” and drew her closer to him. He was leaning back comfortably in the other corner, propped up on cushions.
She tucked bare feet under her light robe and in minutes realized that she had allowed herself to relax against him. She felt his steady breathing as his hard chest supported her back.
She started when he began stroking her upper arm with the hand that had been resting on the back of the sofa. She glanced at him quickly, but he was seemingly preoccupied with the newscast.
His motion was slow and hypnotic, tickling the inside of her arm with sensuous strokes. The strong tapering fingers imperceptively moved closer to her breast. She could feel their movements on the soft curve without his actually touching it. The fabric of her robe stirred against his knuckles, so close was he to touching her. But he did not.
Her nipple became erect with longing and there was a heavy warmth in the lower part of her body. By the end of the broadcast, she was tempted to capture his hand and press it to her. His fingers finally stilled and Katherine held her breath. Now he’ll touch me, she thought.
To her intense disappointment he patted her arm in a filial fashion and eased her up. “I guess I’d better get to bed,” he said.
That night her body had tingled with unsatisfied sensations as she tossed restlessly on her narrow bed. Had he invited her onto the new king-size bed, she would have accepted gladly. Was this then his particular form of cruelty?
Peter had charmed Mary into loving him and then tortured her with physical and verbal abuse. Was Jace’s method different only in that he tortured with a silken touch? Was he planning to make her care for him, only to torment her with rejection?
She resolved not to care. Falling in love with Jace Manning would be a slow kind of death, for she knew that he didn’t love her. He wanted her physically. His constraint hadn’t dissolved his desire. It was evident in his kindling blue eyes that she often caught staring at her.
But his reasons for marrying her had been explicitly enumerated. He was compensating for Peter’s treatment of Mary. He was fulfilling a responsibility he felt for Allison. He had even said that he didn’t want to get marri
ed, and, that by doing so, he was sacrificing his freedom.
As Jace had predicted, his lawyer friend, Mark, sent them a newspaper clipping announcing their marriage. With uncanny clairvoyance Jace had been correct about his parents’ reversal. The article quoted them as saying that Jace and Katherine had developed a deep attachment soon after they met (when was that to have been?), and, as Jace’s parents, they were thrilled that he had married sweet Mary’s sister.
Katherine had been furious when she read it. Jace only shrugged and tossed the clipping in the wastepaper basket. Maybe he wasn’t as contemptuous of his parents as he pretended. Did he have an affinity for them that he concealed when it was expedient to do so? Like when convincing someone it would be to her advantage to marry him?
Now, as Katherine looked at his beguiling smile across the table, she warned herself again to be careful with her emotions.
“I’ll get Allison dressed, and we can go whenever you like,” she said.
* * *
They drove through the east Texas countryside for about half an hour. Katherine enjoyed the scenery. The woods were thick with pine, cedar, native oaks, and elm. Now and then she glimpsed the graceful dogwood. In the spring it, with its glorious white or pink blossoms, would shame the towering giants that dwarfed it.
The country road narrowed and dwindled to little more than a pothole-ridden trail. The jeep bounced over the road, jarring their teeth and preventing conversation. Katherine clutched Allison to her, fearful that the baby would fly out of her arms when they hit a large bump.
Jace turned off the road and struck out across the pine-tree-dotted field that was somewhat more level. As they came to a clearing, the drilling rig came into view. Katherine was amazed by the activity and noise. The equipment required for the project was awesome.
Several of the crew stopped their work for a moment to wave to Jace as he bounded out of the jeep. He directed Katherine to stay put. He jogged to a disreputable-looking trailer whose peeling, faded gray paint was its most redeeming feature. Moments later Jace emerged wearing a hard hat and carrying another.