Chapter 3
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The campus was dark. Only the banquet hall where the faculty dance was being held was lit. Katherine followed Jace's lead, never pausing to examine why she did so without any hesitation.
They crossed the brick terrace and a narrow strip of manicured lawn to a low wall that surrounded a rose garden. Before she could protest, he grasped her around the waist and swung her up to the top of the wall and sat her down. "Your feet hurt."
Could he read her mind? "How did you know? Was I limping? These are new shoes and they are killing me," she confessed.
"I saw you slip out of them just before I danced with you. I almost lost the heart to ask you but was afraid that if I didn't seize my chance, I may not have another with the belle of the ball," be teased.
"I'm hardly that," she protested. She started to remind him that he hadn't actually asked her to dance, but then his next action made her gasp.
He reached up under her long skirt and took one of her ankles between his warm palms. He slipped the uncomfortable high- heeled sandal off her slender foot and began massaging it with his long, strong fingers.
He grinned at her, ignoring her initial reflexive movement to take her foot away. His strokes were slow and rhythmical. "Dr. Manning's Famous Footrub. People come for miles to have one of these foot massages from me. Usually they have to wait for months for an appointment, but for you, little lady, I'll make a special deal."
His lighthearted mood was infec- tious. When had she last been able to relax and laugh? His medicine-man inflection was pure silliness, but she asked with mock seriousness, "Why am I suddenly afraid to hear the terms of this special deal?"
He raked her body with his eyes. He started at the top of her head and took in every feature of her face before moving to her throat and chest. His eyes lingered there for long moments before moving to her face again. "You should be afraid," he whispered and brazenly winked at her.
She shifted, uncomfortable under his intent perusal. He released one foot only to grasp the other one and give it the same soothing treatment. His fingers were strong, but his caress was gentle.
They were quiet and the silence contributed to the unexpected intimacy. Nothing had ever stirred Katherine more than having Jace's hands under her skirt touching her with this exciting familiarity.
Was the forbidden, the unseen, always better? Is that why men of the last century couldn't resist a brief glimpse of a woman's ankle? Had modern women taken a giant step backward by flaunting their sexuality?
It was difficult to concentrate on anything while his thumb stroked her arch so sensuously, but she knew the subject of Allison still lay between them. Though, selfishly, she wanted this moment to go on forever, she couldn't remain silent. She cleared her throat and then asked bravely, "Jace, what are you going to do about Allison?"
His hands stopped their massage immediately, but he retained his hold on her foot. "What do you think I'm going to do?"
She swallowed hard and tried to control the trembling of her lips and the choked feeling in her throat. "Are you going to leave me alone with her?"
Quietly he answered her. "No, Katherine, I'm not."
She sobbed brokenly and jerked her foot from his startled fingers. She jumped off the wall before he had time to assist her and knelt down and fumbled in the damp grass trying to locate her shoes.
"Katherine, please don't," he said. Determined hands encircled her waist and brought her upright to face him. She struggled against him, but he refused to loosen his strong hold. His strength won out, and, finally, she ceased her efforts to escape and slumped against him in defeat.
His hands slid up and down her upper arms. Slowly he drew her closer to him until she was pressed against his long, hard body. He lowered his head and nuzzled the hair next to her cheek. With skill his fingers released the decorative comb which held back one side of her heavy hair. As it fell softly onto his face, he made a low, deep sound in his throat.
His fingers stroked her neck. Light kisses were brushed across her cheek as he rested his hand on her bare shoulder, caressing her collarbone with his thumb.
Katherine was incensed that he should take such liberties with her. Why wasn't she pushing him away? She never allowed a man such access to her. Any man.
But she was incapable of moving, of protesting. The heat of his body held her like a magnet. Her limbs were powerless to pull away. She wanted to take in more of the brisk, clean scent of his cologne. It was so easy to lean against his large, masculine frame and surrender to this floating sense of delicious vulnerability.
Could he feel her heart pounding under his hand? His hand! How had it gotten there? All of his motions felt so right, so good, she hadn't even noticed this caress that shocked her with its boldness.
He settled his lips against her mouth and breathed her name. "Katherine." His hand moved even lower from her bare shoulder, and he fit his palm over her breast. She pushed him away violently and struggled to regain her breath.
"Yes, you're a Manning," she cried in anger.
He was stunned, then defensive. "You make the name sound like an epithet."
"That's how I meant it," she snarled. All of her frustrations and worry over the last few hours poured into her words, and she lashed out at him viciously. "Your brother made a pass at me after he was engaged to my sister and with no encouragement from me. He did something even more obscene at his own wedding."
She shuddered as she remembered the feel of Peter's tongue on her cheek. The image of Jace doing the same thing was projected on her mind, and the picture wasn't at all repulsive. Impatiently she shoved the thought away and rasped in anger, "Now you come on to me panting and pawing. Do you think that a few soft caresses and sweet words will weaken my resolve? I will keep Allison and never let you or anyone else take her away from me. Do you finally understand? Stay away from her – and me." She was backing away from him, but it was a retreat from herself too. Even now she longed to return to the sensuous serenity of his arms.
She ran to her car and, after trying to open the door, realized that he still had the keys. Jace walked toward her slowly. Without speaking, he unlocked the door and held it for her. He made no move to touch her. When he had folded himself behind the wheel, he handed her the sandals which had been forsaken on the campus lawn.
They drove to her apartment in complete silence. He handed her the car keys, and she ran up the stairs without waiting for him to escort her. It was prearranged that Allison would stay all night with Happy.
Katherine slammed the door and locked it. Her hands covered her face as she leaned against the door, breathing hard and grappling with her conscience. She had let him kiss her. Twice. She had wanted to go on kissing him. And he was her enemy.
It was long after Katherine heard the jeep roar to life and speed down the street that she felt capable of leaving the support of the door.
* * *
All night she tossed and turned, pounding her pillow and alternately folding her covers neatly over her and then kicking them to the foot of the bed. Katherine was furious with Jace for reducing her to this hot and bothered creature who was behaving like a teenager in the throes of her first big infatuation.
In actuality, that wasn't far from the truth. Since her father's death when she was a child, Katherine's life had been totally devoid of a masculine influence. No uncles, grandfathers, brothers, or male cousins were available to her, or her mother, or Mary.
Her natural apprehension toward men had increased during her adolescence and early adulthood. Contemporary morals relating to sexuality allowed men to demand more than she was willing to give. She was unprepared to handle such situations, and had subconsciously built a self-protective wall around herself. It had never crumbled.
Until today.
Why, when she was wary toward any man, had one so supremely masculine been able to arouse her like Jace Manning had? After being with him today she was resentful of this protection she forced on herself.
Just the thought of his long, lean body made her flush hotly. She tossed her head to the other side of the pillow as she recalled his cerulean eyes raking slowly over her body. Her skin still burned where his brown fingers had stroked it lingeringly.
She was more than a little afraid of him and what his unexpected intrusion could mean to her life and Allison's. Her physical and emotional reaction to him made the threat even more ominous. He was too big, too virile, too arrogant. Was he always so coolly confident?
And she despised his name. Manning. Manning. Peter Manning's brother. Peter, who had killed Mary with cruelty and thereby orphaned Allison. Peter, who used money and charm as facades to hide the decay in his soul.
She searched for traces of deception in Jace's face. His image was clear on the back of her burning, gritty lids. All she saw were two captivating blue eyes, deep dimples, and a sensuous, smiling mouth. With that picture fixed in her mind, she eventually dropped off into a restless slumber.