Chapter 7
?^?
The deadly voice was like a cannon shot in the room. Katherine turned quickly with blurred, watering eyes to see Jace leaning negligently against the door jamb. His stance was deceptive. His rigid jaw and frigid eyes were clues to his extreme displeasure.
"Let me put it another way," he continued when the two shocked people on the bed failed to move or speak. "I'd better not be interrupting anything." He fixed a cold, blue stare on Jim Cooper.
Nervously, Katherine rose to her feet. She hadn't realized that she was lying on the bed supported by her elbows. Jim was leaning over her, cradling her head with one hand. His face was inches from hers.
"J-Jace," she stammered and cursed herself for being self-conscious. "This is Jim Cooper. Happy's son."
"Mr. Manning," Jim nodded and smiled tentatively. He swallowed hard when Jace didn't respond to the introduction.
"Jim came over to get some things out of the attic. Some sand fell in my eye while I was looking up. He helped me get it out." Katherine despised herself for explaining the incident to him. She hadn't done anything unseemly and neither had poor Jim. The features of Jace's face didn't soften. He didn't even blink to relieve that glacial stare.
"Mr. Manning, I wanted to see you about something else," Jim said haltingly. Katherine commended him for his courage. Jace, in spite of his relaxed pose, presented a formidable mien.
"Yes?" he asked shortly.
"I was going to ask about a job with Sunglow. I ... uh ... I've been working for an independent drilling company in Louisiana, but my mom, being alone and all, well, I ... uh ... thought I might ... ought to..."
Jace shifted his weight from one foot to the other and folded his arms across his chest in boredom. Katherine seethed in anger at his superior attitude over the young man.
When Jim saw Jace's impatience, he hurried on. "Anyway, I need a job. I'm a good roughneck. I have letters of recommendation." He licked his dry lips when he finished.
Jace flicked his eyes in Katherine's direction then leveled them on Jim Cooper once again. She was gratified to see that Jim met Jace's stare undauntedly.
"You've got the nerve to ask me about a job after I just caught you on a bed with my wife?" Jace soun- ded condescendingly amused.
"Jace, I—" Katherine's words died in her throat when he shot her a quelling look.
"But I like your mother," Jace went on, as if she hadn't spoken. "See Billy Jenkins. Do you know where we're drilling?"
"Yes, sir," Jim answered.
"All right. Tell Billy I sent you."
"Thank you, Mr. Manning." Jim indicated the boxes on the floor. "I'll take this one now," he said lifting up the smallest of them, "and come back later for the rest. If that's okay," he added quickly.
"That's fine, Jim." Katherine smiled.
"Well, I'll he going then. Bye, Kath ... uh ... Miz Manning," he amended, looking nervously at Jace.
He tried to ease himself past Jace, who still blocked the doorway, but Jace gripped him on the shoulder and held him fast. "If you screw up out there, you're out. No matter whose son you are."
"Yes, sir. I understand," Jim averred solemnly.
Jace released him and nodded in acknowledgment.
Katherine and Jace stared at each other until they heard the front door slam. Katherine was furious with her new husband. His attitude was inexcusable. The high and mighty Mannings.
Her eyes were flashing green fire when she flared, "How dare you treat someone – anyone – so abominably in my house."
"He's lucky I didn't break his neck. I don't particularly like the idea of coming home and finding my wife in a clinch with another man."
"I just met him minutes before you walked in!" she defended. "He came here to see you and carry out his mother's instructions. You intentionally humiliated him. He's just a boy."
Jace laughed bitterly. "Oh, sure. A twenty–two–year– old boy. Believe me, Katherine, Mr. Cooper was enjoying holding you in his arms no matter for what urgent reason. Any healthy, red-blooded man would."
"Don't judge everyone else by your own animalistic standards," she snapped.
"Have you forgotten Mr. Welsh?" Jace asked with an eyebrow cocked in mockery.
"Oh!" she sputtered. "You're no- thing but a big bully."
Livid with anger, she flew across the room. She raised her small hand and slapped him as hard as she could on his firm jaw.
The breath whooshed out of her body as he grasped her around the waist with one steel arm and yanked her against him. His fist tangled in her hair, and he pulled her head back painfully so she was forced to look at him.
Her fear was championed only by her disbelief. She had slapped him! His temper was nothing to take lightly. It had erupted on the day they went to the lake. It was unleashed again, even more violently, on Ronald Welsh. Now his eyes bored into her, and she held her breath in shrinking apprehension.
To her absolute surprise, he burst out laughing.
"You're quite a little wildcat when pushed too far, aren't you, Katherine?" His face moved to within inches of hers, and she could feel his breath on her hot cheeks. "And you're gorgeous," he rasped. "When you're mad, you're exquisite."
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 wo- man 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