* * *
The reflection in the mirror verified that Katherine's efforts in dressing for the dance hadn't been time wasted. She had soaked in a tub of bubble bath while Allison took her afternoon nap. The warm water was intended to ease some of her tension. Instead it had only made her more aware of the effect Jace's embrace had had on her body. She dried herself quickly, skimming over the most sensitive areas that continued to throb whenever she thought of his kiss.
Taking out the electric curlers, she began styling her hair. What should she have expected of Peter's brother? Peter had made a pass at her. He and Mary were already engaged.
One evening he had been waiting with Katherine for Mary to come downstairs. Katherine called up to her sister to hurry her along, uneasy being left alone with Peter even in her own house.
"You don't like me very much do you, Katherine?" he surprised her by asking. "Why not?" he insisted bluntly. "I'm quite charming when one gets to know me. I'd like for us to be friends."
He stood close behind her while she nonchalantly continued to water a plant near the window. His hand caressed her shoulder lightly. Her poise vanished at his touch. She turned quickly to face him, jerking his hand away.
"I don't know what you mean, Peter," she said sharply. "I don't know you well enough to say if I like you or not."
"Precisely my point!" he exclaimed, flashing her the famous smile that had been captured time and again in the society page photographs.
He reached out and put his hand under her elbow, squeezing it gently. "Why don't you and I have lunch sometime soon, and" – his eyes lowered to her lips – "get to know each other better."
She shuddered in revulsion as his body moved closer to hers. Loathingly she pushed him aside just as they heard Mary coming down the stairs.
Mary was blissfully unaware of his personality flaws, and, of course, Katherine never told her of the incident. Even then he had been playing his macabre games.
At the lavish wedding reception he insulted Katherine with another pass. Mary was chattering gaily to some of the Mannings' friends when Peter sauntered over to his new sister-in-law. She was making herself as invisible as possible amid potted plants and baskets of flowers.
"Sister Kate, how lovely you look in your bridal frock." She hated that cooing voice and had learned to dread it. He had adopted the nickname for her after she rejected his first advance. It rankled her every time he used it, but she would never have given him the satisfaction of letting her anger show.
He took possession of her hands and kissed her coolly on the cheek. She jumped back in mortification when she felt his warm tongue poke through his lips and lightly brush her cheek. His back was turned to the room full of wedding guests, so no one had seen what he did. The embrace appeared to be a filial kiss between new in-laws.
She glared at him through slitted green eyes, but he only smiled at her sardonically, his lip curled into a smirk which marred the perfection of his regular features.
"You're unspeakably vile," she said.
"Tsk, tsk, sister Kate. Is that any way to talk to your dear brother?"
Justifiably she had hated Peter Manning.
"Yes, Mr. Jason Manning is running true to form and upholding the family traditions," Katherine said to her image as she misted herself with cologne. Katherine critically scrutinized her gown and was pleased with what she saw. At the last moment she had decided to pack it when she left Denver. "I couldn't have afforded another one," she muttered ruefully. She had splurged on the expensive dress for a pre-wedding party at the Manning estate. It made a large dent in her budget, but it was worth it. The style was classic and would be in fashion for a while yet.
The sea-green georgette crepe draped close to her body and hung in soft folds at her feet. In a Grecian style, one shoulder was left bare while, on the other, the fabric was gathered into a graceful knot.
The dress accented her slender figure and clung to her gentle curves. The color flattered her summer's tan and brought out the highlights of her green eyes. Katherine was uncon- scious of how beautiful she looked in the dress. But she felt an added streak of confidence when she wore it.
She dropped her earring when she heard the knock on the door. Making one hasty last inspection, she retrieved the pearl cluster, inserted it into her pierced ear, secured the back, and went through the living room to answer Jace's knock.
Earlier in the day she had cleaned up the painting mess and moved the chest of drawers to the other bedroom. The living room was softly lit by shaded table lamps. Katherine hated overhead lights and glaring bulbs.
She opened the door and involuntarily caught her breath at the sight of Jace in his dark gray suit. From the distinctive buttons, she knew that it sported a designer label, and the European cut fit his physique perfectly.
His shirt was pale blue silk and his necktie a deeper shade of the same color. The wavy black hair had been brushed but still looked a trifle untamed. It shone with iridescent highlights.
He whistled long and low as he came through the door. "Wow! Can this be the same Widow Adams that I met this afternoon?"
"Come in, Mr. Manning." She hadn't missed his sarcasm. These games must stop if she were ever going to gain control. "Why are you doing this?" she asked in desperation.
"What?"
"This!" she cried, spreading her arms wide with palms up to encompass the whole situation. "Why are you being so pleasant and prolonging the inevitable confrontation? We both know why you're here, so I wish you'd drop this protective brother-in law routine."
He smiled but chided her softly. "Remember who made up that ridiculous brother-in-law story, Katherine. Not I. I saved your skin today. You should be thanking me. Besides all that, I am your brother-in-law."
"Oh!" she ground out, clenching her fists at her sides. When she saw that he was not to be provoked, it angered her even more. "Don't do this!" she shouted.
A spark of annoyance flickered across his face and he put both hands on his hips. "Look, all I'm here for is to take you to this dance, or whatever the hell it is. Is that so dastardly? Believe me, Katherine, I can think of several other ways I'd rather spend an evening with you." He fixed her with a warm blue stare and added suggestively, "Shall I elaborate?"
For a moment, she was lost in the depths of his eyes, but she managed to answer hoarsely, "No. Let's just get this over with. I'll get Allison."
She went into the baby's room and was surprised when he followed her. "Here, I'll carry her." He leaned toward the crib and reached for the baby.
"No," she said in a panic and grabbed his arm, drawing it away from Allison.
The face turned on her was angry, but softened when he saw the genuine fear in her eyes. "I'm not going to run off with her, Katherine. That's not my style." Was that a censure for her leaving Denver with Allison? "I just wanted to carry her for you so she wouldn't wrinkle your dress. Okay?"
She licked her lips, ashamed of her outburst, and began gathering disposable diapers and putting them in a tote bag. "Okay," she conceded.
Jace gently turned the baby over onto her back and studied the pink, round face. He chuckled. "Say, you'll be a real beauty some day, Allison." His large hands were amazingly competent and gentle as he wrapped her in a light blanket and picked her up. He held her correctly, supporting her head in one of his palms. "She looks like—"
"Mary," interrupted Katherine quickly. She didn't want him to say that the baby looked like Peter.
He glanced at her over the baby's head. "That's what I was about to say. Of course, I never saw Mary, only pictures, but Allison has her coloring. Are her eyes blue? She's so lazy, she hasn't opened them for me yet."
Katherine laughed. "She's a good sleeper. And her eyes are blue. I hope they don't change color."
He turned to leave, but Katherine halted him. "Wait. She may spit up on your coat. Let me put this over your shoulder."
She picked up an absorbent pad and placed it over his shoulder, patting it into place. The close contact with his tall frame made her heart begin to pound. She stepped back quickly, but not before he noticed her reaction.
To cover her embarrassment, she busied herself with gathering up other supplies for the baby and switching out lights as they made their way out of the apartment.
Happy greeted them at the back door of her house and Jace relinquished Allison to her eager arms. She barely took the time to compliment them on how nice they looked before she began gurgling to Allison.
Crossing the lawn under the pecan trees, Jace suggested that they take her car. "I'm sorry, but the jeep is rather unsuitable for a date."
"No, we can take my car." She handed him the keys, and he clasped her elbow as he helped her into the passenger side. Her arm tingled long after his touch. The compact car barely accommodated his height, but somehow he managed to wedge himself behind the steering wheel, muttering deprecations and curses when he bumped first his head then his knee.
Planning the dinner-dance had consumed much of Katherine's time since her employment in the public relations office. Now it all seemed so inconsequential. All of her senses were absorbed by Jason Manning.
She made polite introductions; she ate dinner; she applauded the speaker; she conversed when she was required to. But everything paled against her awareness of the man beside her. Even among strangers he behaved with courtly manners and easy charm, totally confident of himself.
An awkward moment came when Katherine introduced Jace to her boss, Ronald Welsh. The two men eyed each other warily, and their immediate reciprocal hostility made Katherine uneasy.
"Mr. Welsh." Jace extended his hand.
Ronald Welsh shook Jace's hand, but there was no warmth in his expressionless gray eyes as he murmured a greeting.
"Katherine, you look lovely this evening," he said, dismissing Jace and turning his full attention to Katherine. He reached out and stroked her arm. Instinctively she shrank away from him. Recently he had made similar moves in the office, and they never failed to make her uncomfortable. She didn't want him touching her. Unwarranted and unnecessary familiarity had always disturbed her. She reflected on the kiss this afternoon and pushed the thought aside. That hadn't been the same thing at all!
"Thank you, Ronald." He had insisted she call him by his first name, but she didn't like doing so. It altered their relationship in a manner that she felt was injurious to a professional rapport.
"Would you dance with me, Katherine?" Before she could answer, Ronald Welsh had scooped her into a bearlike embrace and hustled her away. There was little she could do but go along with him. After all, he was her boss, and she couldn't afford to offend him.
Ronald's thinning hair was heavily oiled in order to keep the sparse strands in place over the balding spots. The hair oil's perfume was overpowering.
"This is nice, isn't it?" he asked, drawing her closer to his short, thick body.
"Yes, very," she said. He seemed intent on holding her suffocatingly close and pressing her into his paunch.
She suffered through that dance and several others before Jace came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. He didn't issue a verbal invitation to dance. Instead one strong arm slid around her waist while the other captured her hand.
Jace pulled her close to him and led her into a slow, effortless dance. He didn't speak. She couldn't have. The sensations that were emanating from the pit of her stomach and spreading over her body reached her vocal cords, constricted them, and rendered them useless.
The hand that held her to him with fingers spread out wide on her back was like a brand that scorched her skin. Through the sheer fabric of her dress she could feel hard, muscular thighs pressing against her own. The warm breath that fanned her temple was soft and aromatic.
She was too close to him to look up into his face, but she could see the black curls that brushed his collar, and she had a compelling desire to slide her hand toward those curls and caress their black silkiness with her fingertips.
The music stopped and yet he didn't release her. He maintained a possessive hold on her arm and steered her to one of the French doors that led out onto a terrace.
* * *