by Sandra Brown
It was out of character for her to throw herself across the king-size bed and give in to a torrent of tears. The cool, collected, and stable Katherine Adams rarely allowed her emotions to erupt so vehemently. But never had she felt so betrayed.
She hadn’t even known about Jace’s former marriage. For how long were he and Lacey married? When? Why did they divorce? Lacey said one reason was his desire for children before she was ready to make such a commitment. Was Jace’s mind so twisted that he would marry Katherine and take care of Allison in order to punish Lacey for her refusal to bear his children when he had wanted them? Had that been his motivation in maneuvering this charade?
Clutching the pillow that smelled of him, she buried her face in its softness and sobbed his name. Why did I fall in love with him? she berated herself. She should have known better. Love like this didn’t exist except in the minds of poets and dreamers. It couldn’t survive in the actual world.
She couldn’t remember her father’s love, though she was sure he had been affectionately fond of her. Grace Adams, with the death of her husband, had suddenly inherited the responsibility of providing for her children and herself at a time before women could expect equal opportunities on the job market. Her love had been in the form of personal sacrifices in order that Katherine and Mary might have more. Only rarely had she found time or energy after a long day at the post office to fondle and pet and express her love to her little girls. If a time for loving was made available, Mary was usually the recipient of it, for she was the baby.
Katherine didn’t blame her father for dying. Nor could she find fault with her mother. But she longed to be loved. Defensively, she had protected herself from entanglements that would provide only temporary loving care. From somewhere deep inside her, she knew she couldn’t tolerate the pain of parting, of losing again someone she loved. Not until she met Jace Manning had she opened her heart so wide, had she let down her defenses long enough for someone to show her deep affection.
She and Mary had been companionable, and, if anyone had asked her, she would have declared that she loved her sister. It would be the truth. But it wasn’t the same. She and Mary had never shared the intellectual exchanges that she and Jace had. His quick wit and keen sense of humor couldn’t compare to Mary’s appealing naivete. Jace had received her first real love, and now he had spurned it.
When the flow of tears was finally exhausted, Katherine straightened the bed and restored her face. Happy noticed that Katherine was unusually quiet when she returned Allison, but Katherine gave away none of her abysmal misery. A stoic, indifferent countenance would be her shield.
She prepared dinner, talking to herself as she did so. She argued her case, rehearsed each word. If—and that was a big if—Jace came home as he said he would, she would be ready to meet his fluid logic, which she knew to be more lethal than a sword.
Deliberately, she bathed and dressed with care. He wasn’t going to find her disheveled and distressed. There would be no humble groveling. She would defeat him with her aplomb.
Despite all the arguments that she didn’t care if he came back or not, her heart lurched when she heard the distinctive clatter of the jeep’s motor followed by his booted footsteps on the stairs.
She was winding up Allison’s swing when he walked through the door. She gave him a cursory glance and then returned her attention to settling Allison comfortably in the canvas seat. Allison spotted Jace and started kicking her chubby legs and squealing delightedly. Katherine gave them her back and marched resentfully into the kitchen.
Jace behaved with aggravating normalcy. He cleaned up and played with Allison before dinner just as he always did. The longer she worked in the kitchen, the louder Katherine clanged the pots and pans together. When she burned her hand while impatiently extracting a sheet of rolls out of the oven without the protection of a potholder, she cursed loudly and crudely. Damn him! she thought. He’s reduced me to this!
Jace strolled into the kitchen and asked politely, “Anything I can do?”
“No,” she replied shortly. “I can do everything by myself,” she said significantly.
“Okay,” he said cheerfully and sat down at the table.
He was the picture of composedness as he sat at the table with his long legs stretched out in front of him, his ankles crossed, his arms folded across his chest. She had an overpowering impulse to dump a bowl of hot potatoes on top of his head just to see his insouciance destroyed.
He had put Allison down for the night, and they ate in silence—Jace with relish and appreciation, Katherine with a choking determination.
As usual, Jace helped her with the dishes. She avoided any contact with him. Once he put his hand into the warm soapy water and captured her hand. He stroked her palm with his thumb as he analyzed the storm in her green eyes. She angrily jerked her hand back to show him her aversion, but only succeeded in splashing sudsy water in her own face.
“I want to talk to you,” he said as they left the kitchen. He switched out the light behind them, and his voice was as abrupt as the cessation of electric current.
Katherine was furious that Jace had initiated the confrontation. Attack was the best strategy, and now he held that advantage. Blast him!
“All right,” she snapped. She sat down in the chair opposite the couch. “I want to talk to you too.”
Jace settled himself on the edge of the sofa and stared at his hands hanging between his knees. “I should have told you about Lacey. I apologize. I’m sorry you had to find out about her the way you did.”
“I’m sure you were,” she sneered. “I believe I barged in on a romantic reconciliation.”
“Not exactly,” he said tersely. His chiseled face which had softened with his apology was now becoming stern. The black wing eyebrows lowered over glowering eyes.
“No? Oh, of course, you have the handicap of a wife now, don’t you? How unfortunate. But then I doubt if that small detail will have any bearing on you and Lacey resuming your relationship.”
“Dammit,” he cursed softly. He was rubbing his knuckles together in extreme agitation. “You’re always so automatically goddamned defensive. You just won’t try to understand, will you?”
“Understand?” she asked on a high note. “I walk into my husband’s office and find him in an embrace with a beautiful, chesty woman who just happens to be his former wife,” she paused to draw a deep breath, “and I don’t understand?”
“Jealous?” he asked with a glimmer of the humorous mischief that often danced in his eyes.
His shift of moods disconcerted her. Yes! she wanted to shout. Yes. For all the time she had with you. Yes. For all of the times when you made love to her. Yes. For each time you kissed her. Yes, I’m eaten up with jealousy.
Instead she said off-handedly, “Jealous? No. One must be in love to be jealous.” Was that a small flicker of pain that crossed his features? No, it was only a pang of irritation that she wasn’t showing more distress. “After all, this was a marriage of convenience,” she persisted. “We both know why we got into it.”
She looked away from him, not able to meet his discerning eyes. Abruptly, she rose and crossed to her desk. She had to put space between them. Protect yourself, Katherine, she warned silently.
“I… uh… it,” she stammered. She cursed her inability to stick to her resolve when he looked at her. Staunchly, she continued, “I was upset because you lied to me about my job.”
“You’ll do a good job, Katherine, no mat—”
“You’re damn right I will!” she exclaimed as she spun around to face him. “I’m more determined than ever to do a terrific job. I’ll show you and Mr. Willoughby Newton that he doesn’t have to patronize me because I’m one of his main boys’ wife.”
Careful, Katherine, she cautioned. She could feel the tears filling her eyes. “For whatever your reasons, you landed me a peach of a job. I thank you, Mr. Manning. But I’m just another employee now. And from here on, I fly alone. If I make it, great
. If I don’t, then it will be my own failure. But I want no help from you.” She enunciated the last seven words precisely, defiantly.
“You’re mistaken if you think I would have it any other way, Katherine,” he said quietly.
She was taken aback by his calm acceptance of her tirade. Where was his anger? Why wasn’t he fighting back? If anything, he looked… what? Sad? She struggled to regain some of her impetus.
“As far as our marriage goes, we each go our own way. Under the circumstances, I think that’s fair.”
“You do.” It wasn’t a question. Rather it was a barely audible statement.
“Yes, I do,” she said with more conviction than she felt.
She was presenting him an open invitation to be with Lacey as often as he wished. Even as she said the words that gave him his freedom, she asked herself how she could bear it if he left her now.
“For Allison’s sake, we can go on imitating a family unit, if… if you still want to,” she struggled on. Pausing, she allowed him ample opportunity to contradict her, and prayed that he wouldn’t. When he didn’t speak, she continued, twisting her hands together, “I think you and I should… should follow our personal pursuits and do whatever we… whatever we want to do.”
She was finished. Where was the sense of satisfaction she had expected to feel? There was no triumphant elation filling her veins. Instead, an emptiness, ironically as heavy as a stone, was pressing on her heart. Her rehearsed speech had sounded trite, childish, uninspired, and uncertain.
Jace stood, stretched to his full height, and walked toward her. “I think you are absolutely right, Katherine.”
She closed her mind to the agony his words brought her. Her lips pressed together to trap a sob that longed to escape. Even now she hoped he would beg her forgiveness and declare an everlasting love for her. Well, she had delivered an ultimatum, and he had accepted it. But she abhorred his ready acceptance. This was one argument she would gladly have lost.
He continued his slow walk until he stood directly in front of her. She felt cornered, suffocated, overwhelmed. His nearness always started a destructive chain reaction in her body. It had done that since she opened her front door and saw him for the first time.
“I think each of us should follow our personal pursuits and do whatever we want to do. And right now, I want to kiss my wife.”
She was in his arms before she had time to realize his intention. His mouth closed over hers. There was no violence in this kiss like the bruising one of this afternoon. The force behind it was just as dominating, but the approach was different.
His mouth moved over hers with supplicant precision until, unwillingly, her lips parted to receive his persuasive tongue. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, and sensually. He didn’t move his hands. He only held her tightly against him, making struggling or resistance of any kind out of the question.
She was breathless when, at last, he lifted his head. He looked into her swimming green eyes and slid his arms forward until the heels of his hands were lightly brushing the sides of her breasts under her arms. “Good night,” he whispered.
Then he released her, turned, walked into his bedroom, and shut the door behind him. Katherine was dizzy and swayed slightly, though her feet felt nailed firmly to the floor.
Instinctively, her hands reached out for his support. She hoarsely whispered his name. Those now familiar sensations were prickling her body. Don’t leave me like this, she cried silently.
Then reason returned. And the reason turned to anger. And the anger boiled.
How dare he! How dare he kiss me like that after spending the day with Lacey.
She marched into Allison’s bedroom and slammed the door behind her. The racket woke the baby, and she had to be rocked before she would go back to sleep.
Chapter Eleven
“I think I’ll start shopping around for firewood. I’ve seen several ads in the newspaper. Cooper and I thought we’d buy a cord and divide it. One of these evenings, it’ll be cool enough for a fire.” Jace munched on an English muffin and sipped scalding black coffee while Katherine fed Allison her morning ration of cereal and strained fruit.
When she didn’t respond to his attempted conversation, he persisted. “What do you think?”
His easy chatter annoyed her now as it had done all week. Ever since the day her new, wonderful world caved in and left her desolate, he had behaved as if there were nothing wrong between them.
She wished he would shout, throw something, have a temper outburst, anything but maintain this pleasant congeniality. “Whatever you think,” she murmured as she wiped Allison’s cereal-smeared mouth with a damp paper towel. A week ago she wouldn’t have believed they would still be living together by the time the weather turned cold, and now, he was talking about stocking up on firewood.
He had almost broken her implacability the evening he came home and casually announced that the well they had been drilling had come in.
“Why, Jace, that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed before becoming irritated with herself for the genuine joy she felt at his good news.
He looked at her quickly and grinned in sheepish pleasure. “Yeah. Katherine”—he rubbed his hands together excitedly—“I never get used to it, you know? I mean each time we strike oil, even if I’m positive before we drill that it’s down there, it’s like… like—” He broke off as he held his palms up and shrugged helplessly. He laughed boyishly. “Well, it’s like nothing else.”
She wanted to share his happiness, his enthusiasm. She longed to hold him, congratulate him, but—
He rushed on. “I thought maybe we could go out tonight. Leave Allison with Happy and go out to dinner and—”
“No,” she interjected sharply. The temptation to accept was strong. “I… uh… I typed for hours today and I’m tired.”
His disappointment was apparent, but he smiled kindly and said, “Okay. Some other time.”
“I guess I’d better be going,” Jace said now as he stood up and stretched, raising his arms high above his head. “I’m glad I bought that bed when I did. It crowds the room, but it’s worth it.” His smile was dazzling, devilish. She tried to ignore him.
He leaned down and nuzzled the back of her neck. “All it needs to make it perfect is for you to be with me.” His lips nibbled at the sensitive skin on her neck, and Katherine’s hand shook as she determinedly shoved another spoonful of peaches into Allison’s dodging mouth.
Jace’s hand slipped under Katherine’s arm and covered a breast, squeezing it gently. His hand scorched her skin through the thin cotton of her T-shirt. She dropped the spoon, stood up, and wheeled around to face him. “Don’t do that.” She strove to control her quivering voice and said more forcefully, “If you want to… to play with someone, go play with Lacey.” She was encouraged to see his lips compress in irritation. “Besides, her figure is much more… generous… than mine,” she said scathingly.
The metallic coldness in his eyes left no doubt that she had finally succeeded in sparking his anger. His jaw worked in vexation, and he held his whole body rigid as though trying to keep a rein on murderous impulses.
The victory didn’t go to Katherine, however. Insolently, he raked her body with those glinting eyes and drawled, “Yes, it is. Much more generous.” Then he turned and left the kitchen. A few moments later Katherine heard the front door slam behind him.
Miserably, she slumped down in the chair and gave vent to her tears. “Oh, Jace,” she wept. Unconsciously, she placed her hand over the breast which had so recently thrilled to the warmth of his touch. “I miss you,” she moaned before she lay her head on the table and sobbed.
She didn’t have the luxury of self-pity for long. Allison had been cross and fretful for the past two days. Her usually hearty appetite had waned. Her nose was stuffy, and, later that same day, she started coughing. As the day wore on, Katherine gave up trying to work. Her increasing anxiety over Allison’s health prevented her from thinking clearly or generating one cr
eative idea.
By late afternoon the baby was crying piteously and had developed a fever. Katherine paced the floor with her, trying to comfort her with pats on the back and soothing words. The congestion in her breathing passages became more pronounced, and the cough sounded harsher and deeper.
Unsuccessfully Katherine had tried to call Happy, and continued to notice that her car was still not parked in its usual place. When the telephone rang, she reached for it like a lifeline. Jace was calling to say he might be returning home late, but Katherine was so relived to hear his voice she forgot her pride and resolve to shut him out and quickly told him about the baby’s illness.
“Have you called the doctor?” Jace asked when she finished relating Allison’s symptoms.
“Yes. He said to give her liquid fever reducer, watch her closely, and call him if she gets any worse.”
“When was that?”
“Early this afternoon.”
“Well, I think I’d better call him and have him meet me there. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said anxiously. “But, Jace, it’s just that she was so little when she was born, and her lungs—”
“I know, darling, I know. You sit tight, and I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
Katherine replaced the telephone receiver and felt a glow of love spread over her heart. Jace was coming to help her. Everything would be all right. Jace would be home soon. She whispered such to the crying, coughing Allison as she continued to pace with the infant or rock her in the wicker chair.
Allison became more agitated with each passing minute. Katherine’s anxiety turned into terror when the baby’s breathing became labored. She emitted a harsh, grating sound from deep in her throat. Her cough sounded like something out of a nightmare. Katherine was reminded of baying hounds.
She was frantic by the time she heard someone on the stairs and rushed to the door, flinging it open with the baby still clutched in her arms. Jace was running up the steps two at a time with Dr. Peterson, Allison’s pediatrician, in tow. Jace halted mid-stride when he saw Katherine’s wild eyes, but then leaped up the last few steps into the room.