Love Beyond Reason(44)
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 determi- nation.
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. Ab- ruptly, 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."