Love Beyond Reason(6)

Oh, God! she mentally groaned. She risked looking up at Jason Manning, but he was bending down from his tremendous height to pick up a wet cloth she had used to wipe away the dripping acrylic paint. Fascinated, like one hypnotized, she watched him approach her and reach out to grasp her chin in his fingers.

He tilted her head back so he could see what he was doing as he applied the cloth to the spot of paint on her nose. He went about his job absorbedly, unemotionally, but Katherine was finding it difficult to breathe. His whole presence was overwhelming, suffocating. The fingers on her jaw were strong, but gentle. His skin was very dark. Tans like that weren't acquired by short periods of exposure to the sun while lying coated with thick applications of suntan lotion.

The lines that fanned from the corners of his eyes like fine webs were another indication that he spent most of his time out of doors. Oil? Wasn't that what Mary had said? She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember anything. Her brain had been swept clean when he came toward her and clasped her chin in his hand.

His eyes were surrounded by thick, short, black lashes and framed by raven black brows that arched and tapered as if painted on. Katherine was on eye level with his chest and by raising her eyes only slightly, she could see his strong column of throat. In the deep V of his open sport shirt collar, she saw curling black hair that undoubtedly covered his broad chest. God! What was she thinking?

Angry with herself for allowing him such familiarity, she pushed his hand away and stepped backward.

"What do you want, Mr. Manning?"

He shrugged and dropped the cloth back onto the newspapers spread under his feet. "A Coke would be nice." He smiled beguilingly.

"That isn't what I meant and you know it," she snapped. She was furious in her desperation. His friendly manner was only a ploy to reduce her suspicions and relax her guard. Well, she had resisted the advances of one Manning. Shivering in disgust, she remembered Peter's behavior toward her. I'll resist this Manning too. "What are you doing here?" she inquired coldly.

He sighed and crossed the room to sit on the sofa, the cushions of which she had so proudly recovered herself.

"I think my reason for being here would be obvious to you, Katherine." The sound of her name coming from his mouth made her heart lurch. Were they on a first-name basis already? Another of his disarming tricks, no doubt.

He studied her a moment as he leaned negligently back against the cushions of the couch. "I came to get my brother's baby."

She had known his purpose, but having him verbalize it struck terror in her heart. The pain in her chest was almost more than she could bear. She wasn't going to crumple in front of him. She couldn't!

Her face paled considerably, and, slowly shaking her head, she choked out, "No."

When he saw her distress, he stood and took a few steps toward her. She backed away from him, and when he read the aversion on her face, he stopped. Raking his fingers through hair that would forever be somewhat unruly, he muttered a curse under his breath.

He pulled his bottom lip through his teeth several times and stared at her through squinted eyes. He stood with his hands on his hips, and the commanding stance made Katherine feel even more vulnerable in her shabby clothes and bare feet. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, but met his stare with as much calm as she could muster.

Finally he spoke. "Look. I know this isn't going to be easy on anyone. So could we at least try to make it as painless as possible? I really would like a Coke if you have one. A cup of coffee? Let's discuss our mutual problem like rational grown- ups. Okay?"

"I have no problem, Mr. Manning."

"Jace."

"What?" she asked, momentarily distracted by his interruption.

"Call me Jace."

"Oh. Well, as I was saying, I have no problem. I love my sister's baby as if she were my own. On her deathbed Mary commissioned me to take care of her, to rear her, to prevent her from ever coming under the influence of any Manning. I have rocked her, bathed her, fed her—"

"You fed her?" His eyes went to her breasts, and Katherine flushed hotly in embarrassment and anger. And why were her nipples pressing so tautly against her shirt? Ever since Jace had touched her, she had been self-consciously aware of them being unrestrained under the chambray. A bra had seemed an unnecessary garment when she dressed that morning. This man was threatening in ways other than taking Allison away from her, and she was incapable of dealing with any of them.

Jace was still looking at her with that annoying, amused grin, and she lashed out at him. "Don't be obtuse, Mr. Manning. You know that at the hospital babies are put on a formula if the mother can't or doesn't want to ... to..."

"Breast feed?" he asked softly, intimately. Katherine looked out the window, then at her bare feet – anywhere to escape those penetrating eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat before she mumbled "Yes." She hurried past him on her way to the kitchen.

The business of getting him a drink would cover her acute embarrassment. "I'll get you a drink." She went through the kitchen door practically at a run and braced herself against the counter as if she had reached a haven of repose. Breathing heavily, she put both hands to her pounding temples and asked herself in a critical whisper, "What is the matter with me?" This person ... this man – and, God, what a magnificent man! – had totally disconcerted her. She was trembling. There was a tickling sensation in her thighs. She had attributed it to the strings on the legs of her cutoffs, but now admitted it was coming from within. She pressed the palms of her hands flat against her nipples, willing them to return to their relaxed state.