“This,” he said, reaching for her and drawing her to him.
“No—” she protested before he covered her mouth with his.
After a punishing kiss, he lifted his head for a moment. “You can start paying back all those debts you owe me,” he taunted. His arms held her immobile against his hard, unyielding body. He pressed his lips against her closed mouth and wouldn’t give up the bruising pressure until she had opened it to him.
His tongue forced its way in, plundering her mouth. His hips thrust against hers, pushing her into the side of the car. His hands were everywhere, insulting and abusive. Thankfully, his back was to the drilling site and no one could witness her debasement.
He left her mouth and buried his lips in her neck. “You came out here for an intimate lunch together, didn’t you?” he asked in a gruff voice.
She whimpered, tears on the brink of her lids, as he reminded her of her original plans. So much had happened since then. How shattered were her dreams in the space of an hour!
“I would have liked that, Katherine.” He settled one lo
ng, brown hand on her breast. “I know you have nothing on under this blouse. In my mind, I can see your breasts, feel them, taste them.”
He found her mouth again, and this time there was no violence in his kiss. It was devastatingly tender. His mouth sensuously sipped at her lips, her tongue, until she relaxed the steely tautness of her body.
His thumbs brushed across her nipples through the fabric of her shirt until he felt them respond. They were like hard, smooth buttons under his touch.
Katherine felt herself slipping into submission. Her resolve melted under his caresses. Her body betrayed her by responding to him. No. She mustn’t. From the first she had been drawn to him by his persuasive sexuality and flagrant virility. Now she was suffering for her weakness. This meant nothing to him. He only used these embraces as a means of decreasing her will, eliminating her self-control, getting his way.
Gleaning every ounce of depleting strength, she pushed him away from her. His eyes, glazed with passion, blinked rapidly, trying to focus. When he looked down into her angry, closed face, he dropped his arms to his sides.
“You’re wrong, Jace. I’m no longer susceptible. You don’t influence any part of my life. I’m leaving now. By the looks of things, Lacey intends to stay a while. I’m sure she’s more than willing to satisfy your baser instincts.”
She got in the car and slammed the door. After she turned on the motor and engaged the gears, Jace put a restraining hand on the door handle.
“It’s a pretty speech and a good act, Katherine, but it won’t wash.” His anger was gone. His voice was level, convincing, and deadly accurate. “You still want me as much as I want you. I’ll be home at the normal time.”
* * *
Katherine cursed Jace, her own vulnerability, and the top stair she bumped her toe on as she went into the apartment. Thankfully, Happy’s car hadn’t been in the driveway. She must have taken Allison with her on some errand. That permitted Katherine a brief respite during which she could contemplate her problem and bandage her wounds.
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?”