The Gentling (20 page)

Too incensed to say another word, Katy swung away and stalked to the dressing table, where she angrily snatched the combs from her hair, flung them into a drawer and slammed it shut. She then went to work on the amethyst earrings.

Trace's frown deepened.

"Did you enjoy the party?" he asked, more cautiously this time.

Her lips tightened as she met his gaze in the mirror. "Enjoy it? I just spent six hours talking to a group of people I didn't know, while my husband completely ignored me. And you want to know if I enjoyed it?"

"I'm sorry if you feel that I ignored you, Katy, but as the host I had an obligation to entertain our guests. We both did." Pulling his unbuttoned shirt from his trousers, he let it hang free while he stood, hands on hips, watching her intently, his expression wary.

"Entertain the guests? Is that what you were doing?" She spun on one heel and stormed across the room, coming to a halt just inches from him, her eyes shooting blue flames as she glowered up into his surprised face. "As far as I could see the only person you bothered to entertain was 'cousin Monica,'" she sneered, while angrily working open the buttons on her long sleeves. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and stalked back across the room.

Trace's brows jerked upward, and his expression froze. Then, slowly, noting her stiff, angry movements, his features began to relax. Amused satisfaction glittered in his eyes as he said, coaxingly, "Now, come on, Katy. Be fair. I circulated among the guests all evening. I'm quite certain I talked to everyone, at least twice."

"Yes! And the whole time you had that woman plastered to your side!" she snapped, ripping the blouse off over her head. She flung it into a chair beside the bed and retraced her steps. "And speaking of time, just why did it take twenty minutes to say good night when you walked your dear cousin to her car?" she demanded, poking his bare chest with one slender finger.

"Monica wanted to talk to me about something. I guess time just got away from us."

"Talk to you! Talk to you! She had all evening to talk to you!" Katy railed. "Although I will admit, talking wasn't what she seemed to have on her mind. That woman was all over you, and I didn't see you objecting. Not once!" The finger jabbed again. "Well, let me tell you something, Trace Barnett. I will not be treated that way. While you were playing footsie with Monica I spent a ghastly evening deflecting pitying looks from your friends and trying to ignore the knowing smirks your uppity relatives cast my way. It was humiliating! And I don't intend to put up with it. That woman is not to set foot in this house again! Is that clear?"

Whirling around, she marched back to the bed, kicked off her shoes and wiggled out of the burgundy skirt and matching half slip, nearly sizzling with fury. With a careless toss, both garments joined the blouse in the chair. Head held high, she stalked to the dresser and removed a clean nightgown.

"Come on, Katy," Trace said, chuckling. "Monica doesn't mean anything to me. For heaven's sake! We grew up together."

Katy threw her nightgown on the bed, incensed by the so-called explanation. She faced him with her fists planted on her hips, eyes blazing, oblivious to the fact that she was clad in only a scanty, lace and silk, burgundy teddy, which revealed a great deal more than it concealed. She was much too furious to give a thought to her state of undress.

"Oh, I've heard all about the way you grew up together," she snarled. Pelvis thrust forward, hips swaying provocatively, she sauntered up to Trace in an exaggerated imitation of Monica's seductive slink.

Trace's eyes roamed avidly over her scantily covered body, a flame leaping in their depths as they studied the milky gleam of her breasts, where they strained against their sheer, lacy confinement.

Giving him a sultry, feline look, Katy mimicked huskily, "Don't you remember all those long summer afternoons in the hayloft, darling?"

Her face hardened. Abandoning her seductive pose, Katy threw her head back and glared at him, her lip curling in disgust. "Grew up fast, didn't you."

Trace's mouth quivered suspiciously. With studied nonchalance, he stripped off the shirt and tossed it at the hamper behind him. Then, crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned a bare shoulder against the door frame. "Keep that up and you're going to wear a rut in the carpet," he said, addressing the words to her retreating form as she stomped back toward the bed.

If Katy heard the remark she chose to ignore it. She was much too caught up in her satisfying tirade to be sidetracked. It felt wonderful, absolutely marvelous, to spew out all the anger that had been boiling up inside her for hours, and she wasn't about to deny herself the pleasure.

"Now you just listen to me," she continued pugnaciously, as she fumbled with the ribbon ties that held the bodice of the teddy together. "If you think I'm going to put up with you carrying on with that woman, or any woman, you can just think again. I won't stand for it! You forced your way into my life, refused to take no for an answer, and practically bludgeoned me into marriage. Well, you got what you wanted, Trace, and now you're stuck with me. There will be no other women in your life or your bed. I'm ..."

A choked sound behind her brought her whirling around, the unfastened teddy falling open to below her waist. Her jaw dropped at the sight of Trace, struggling manfully to contain his laughter.

"Don't you dare laugh at me, Trace Barnett!" she shrilled at him, stamping her foot in outrage.

Caught red-handed, unable to hold it in any longer, Trace threw back his head and let the sputtering chuckles blossom into rich, full-bodied laughter, a warm, exultant sound of pure joy.

"Trace, you stop that right now or I'll—I'll—"

Her irate threat succeeded in choking off his laughter, but did nothing to dim his euphoric joy. Bristling with indignation, but too stunned to move, Katy watched with open-mouthed astonishment as Trace strolled toward her with a ridiculously happy grin splitting his face.

"Oh, Katy, Katy. You're such an adorable little goose."

Frowning, she plucked at the hands that settled on her waist. "I'm not adorable and I'm not a goose," she retorted testily. "Now, let me go! And stop grinning like an idiot!"

The hands at her waist tightened and Katy's feet suddenly left the floor. Frantically, she clutched at

Trace's shoulders as he whirled her around in circles. When he finally stopped her head was spinning.

Still holding her aloft, he grinned triumphantly. "Ahhh, but you are very adorable, my darling. Especially when you're in a flaming rage and haven't the faintest idea why."

"Haven't the fa . . ."

That was too much! Fists doubled, Katy rained blows on his head and shoulders. "Put me down! Put me down this instant!" she shrieked.

"Of course, my love." Grinning, Trace tossed her onto the bed. In a blink he followed her down and pinned her to the mattress with his body, his mouth closing over hers in burning possession.

Katy writhed beneath him. She was determined to fight the instant pleasure his touch evoked. Squirming and pitching, she tried to evade his insistent mouth, but Trace did not let up until, at last, she quieted.

Then, slowly, cautiously, he lifted his head and stared down at her. A gentle smile curved his mouth but his eyes were quite serious.

"Now, as much as I'm intrigued by the sleeping tigress I somehow accidentally let loose, I want you to calm down and tell me, in plain, straightforward language, what it is you really want. I think we both know, but I want you to say it anyway."

Katy glared back at him, her expression a mixture of pride and defiant anger. When she remained stubbornly quiet Trace gave her a little nudge.

"Come on, Katy. Say it."

"All right, dammit! I love you! And I want you!" she snapped in a completely unlover-like tone. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Trace sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He remained perfectly still for a moment, as though in the grip of some agonizing pain. Then, slowly, he relaxed, and on a heart-felt sigh, breathed, "At last."

With exquisite tenderness, he lowered his head and kissed her again, his lips tasting, coaxing, caressing. Katy felt all the fight go out of her, and with a moaning sigh of surrender, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close, returning the delicately passionate kiss with an eagerness that instantly brought a growling response from Trace.

They touched and tasted, exploring each other with sensuous delight, reveling in the new freedom. In mere minutes Trace had shed his remaining clothes and the ridiculous wisp of silk and lace was smoothed from Katy's body.

His lips and tongue played over her, kissing and tugging at her breasts, stroking the silky, quivering skin of her belly. Katy returned the caress, shyly at first, then with growing sureness, her heart swelling as she felt his shuddering response.

The driving urgency of their need for one another could not be restrained for long. When neither could bear the exquisite torture any longer, Trace rose over her. Hesitating, he looked down into her flushed face.

"Are you very sure, Katy?" he asked, with a vulnerability that tugged at her heartstrings.

A tremulous smile curved her mouth as she took his face between her palms and pulled his head down. Against his lips she whispered, "Love me, Trace."

He took her gently, guiding her through that first, fleeting moment of discomfort with tender care, then, passion blossoming freely, they moved into a realm Katy had never even dreamed of. Together they climbed higher and higher, until the almost unbearable pleasure reached its peak and exploded in a shower-burst of ecstasy. In the shuddering aftermath, they clung to one another and drifted slowly down to earth, spent and utterly replete.

"Did I hurt you, darling?" Trace asked some time later.

Katy nuzzled her nose against the side of his neck, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she caught the thread of concern in his voice. "Only a little. But it was worth it." Her arm tightened on his waist. "Oh, darling, I had no idea it would be like that. I feel so foolish, putting both of us through all that torment for so long."

Trace tipped her chin up and smiled lovingly at her contrite expression. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. It was something you had to work through. I've always wanted you. I don't deny that. But I wanted you free of fear, and loving me as much as I love you." Cupping the side of her face, he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, while his eyes ran over her wonderingly. "I swear to you, Katy, it's never been like that with anyone else. Never."

"And it never will be," she retorted spiritedly. "Because I warn you right now, you've landed yourself a very jealous wife, like it or not."

Trace laughed delightedly and hugged her close. "Oh, I like it, I like it. But I must admit I'm still in shock. I had no idea my sweet, gentle Katy had such a fiery temper."

"I do when provoked," she informed him with a stern, narrow-eyed look. "And if 'cousin' Monica gets within ten feet of you again she'll find herself on the receiving end of it."

"Calm down, spitfire. Monica is a nuisance but you have no reason to be jealous of her. She simply likes to stir up trouble, then sit back and watch the fur fly." He gave her a devilish look. "Though I will admit, had I known the effect she would have on you I would have invited her over long ago. She accomplished in a few hours what I haven't been able to do in months. But for the record, no matter what she implied, Monica and I have never been lovers." He planted a quick kiss on her mouth and grinned. "Satisfied?"

"I'll be satisfied as long as you love me," Katy whispered.

Rolling her over onto her back. Trace framed her face between his hands and stared intently into her eyes, his own burning. Katy's heart turned over at the love she saw there. "That will be forever," he promised huskily.