by Joan Hohl
The three sat a few minutes in silence then Katherine rose saying dispiritedly, "I think I'll go up early. I'm tired."
James looked disappointed. "Oh Katherine, don't go up yet. I thought you and I could have a brandy and talk."
"I'm going to take a look at Jon. Good night, you two," Mary inserted as she walked out of the dining room.
"Please, Katherine," James coaxed.
How very nice he is, Katherine thought, his charming, gentle personality the complete opposite of Matt's dynamic, forceful one.
Smiling gently, she reached out her hand and lightly touched his sleeve. "Not tonight, James, I really am tired. I think I'll have a soak and go to bed."
James' fingers lifted her chin and stared at her closely. "You look tired, something go wrong while you were away?"
She shook her head and his fingers slid along her chin
in a light caress. "No, of course not. Don't worry about me, James." And turning, escaped the room and the tender look that had come into James eyes. She was becoming concerned with the way James looked at her sometimes.
Back in the bedroom, Katherine stared at her reflection in the mirror that ran the length of the closet door. Her fingers went to the tiny lines at the corner of her eyes. I do look tired. And starting to show my age, she thought wryly. I've lost some more weight, too. She grimaced at her image, remembering how she'd worked to get her figure back into shape after Jon was born. She had gone past her goal and for the first time in over two years was back into a size ten dress.
She had worn a size ten for the time she was in high school, up until the year before she and Matt were married when she'd gone into a size twelve.
She had not been displeased with the added pounds. True, the slim young girl look was gone, but at thirty-nine she had kept that look longer than most. The added weight had given her a softly rounded mature appearance not unbecoming to the mother of two grown children. And now, two years and one baby later, she weighed less than she had twenty years ago. Even the size tens were becoming a little loose.
Katherine peered more closely into the mirror, running her fingers through the soft dark curls. Quite a few gray mixed in with the dark ones. Oh well! Maybe she'd soon have a natural frost.
She shrugged at her reflection and turned away just as the bedroom door opened and Matt stepped inside, closed the door quietly, and leaned back against it. His big frame seemed to take up most of the door and Katherine felt her pulses stir at the deceptively
lazy look of him. She knew how lightning fast he could move.
His eyes went over her slowly and the stir that had started at her pulse skittered up her spine. "I like your gown, the color becomes you. Did I pay for it?" The compliment was left-handed as his voice was flat, emotionless.
Her words were almost an echo of a few hours earlier. "Thank you. No, you didn't pay for it. It's at least five years old."
His eyebrows went up mockingly, and she spun away, walking across the room to the chaise by the window. "It's a perfectly good dress," she bit out. "I've only worn it a few times. What do you expect me to do? Give it away? Throw it away?"
She had not heard him moving over the soft carpet and was startled to hear his voice so close. "I don't expect anything of you, Katherine."
His voice was low, calm. Too calm. She whirled around expecting to see what? Anger? Frustration? She saw nothing. His face was devoid of expression.
Katherine stared long seconds into eyes the color of gray-and-blue ice, then blinked as he turned suddenly and walked to the bathroom door saying flatly, "I've got to leave."
"Leave!" She repeated in a hoarse whisper. "Where are you going?" Swallowing hard at the knot of fear in her throat.
"Atlanta. I have an appointment down there at nine in the morning, and I want to see Carl tonight for a briefing. The plane's waiting for me."
He was halfway through the bathroom and she hurried after him, following him into their dressing room.
"How long will you be gone?"
His head jerked round, his eyes seeming to challenge hers. "Two, three days. Why?"
"Would you like me to pack for you?"
The fire left his eyes and he looked suddenly tired.
'Thank you." Again that flat, nothing tone of voice. "That would give me time for a quick shower."
He turned back to the bathroom, only to stop, grow rigid when she called, "Matt."
She wanted to scream at his broad, unyielding back. What's the matter? Why have you changed? But she couldn't, just could not, get the words out. All she said was, "Will you need evening clothes?"
His answer came on a soft sigh. "No, Katherine, I will not need evening clothes." He closed the bathroom door behind him.
Blinking against the hot moisture welling into her eyes, Katherine stood staring at the closed door. What must he think? Did he think she was prying? Trying to find out his movements when he was away from home? He'd hate that, she thought miserably. Detest the idea of anyone questioning anything he did.
Shaking her head as if to shake away her unpleasant thoughts, she pulled the dress over her head and hung it in her closet. After shedding her brief undies and dropping them into the clothes hamper, she slipped into a pale lilac satin nightgown and matching long tailored robe, knotting the belt around her almost too-narrow waist.
She packed his soft leather case quickly and neatly and was tugging the zip around the edge when he strode into the room.
She glanced up and froze, breath catching in her throat, eyes clinging, as against her will, they took inventory of his powerful body.
Moving swiftly, missing nothing, her eyes went over him. His usually unruly hair lay wetly slicked against his head, his cheeks and jaw smooth with a fresh shaven sheen. Her bones seemed to go soft, disjointed as her eyes moved on, running down his strong brown throat to his broad, broad shoulders and not quite red hair-matted chest. The tight curls tapered to a vee at his mid section then formed a half inch trail down his flat belly to disappear under the snug elastic band of the skintight briefs that hugged his slim hips. The briefs were the only article of clothing he wore and they left little to her imagination. Katherine swallowed with difficulty, felt her pulse kick in her throat and her eyes shied away, retracing their path until they collided with glittering gray-blue ones that were watching her steadily.
She gulped in air, feeling her cheeks go from warm to hot as the realization hit her that for the last few minutes he had stood immobile while he endured her scrutiny. What emotion made his eyes glitter like that? Amusement? Contempt? She didn't wait to find out. Clutching the lapels of her robe together with her left hand, she gave a last vicious tug at the case zipper and fled from the room and his eyes. But not fast enough to miss hearing his muttered, "Oh, for Christ's sake!"
She ran into the bedroom, hands brushing impatiently at the moisture blurring her vision. Slowing her pace she walked to the chaise, curling up on it like a small child. Hugging herself tightly, nails digging into the flesh of her upper arms, she fought to control her breathing and wildly chaotic thoughts. He probably thinks I'm an idiot, becoming unglued at the sight of an unclad body. I'm behaving like a silly young girl, and he's probably in there laughing his damned fool head off.
Taking several deep calming breaths she reached for the book lying on the table next to the chaise, but made no attempt to read it. Fingers nervously picking at the book cover, she rested her head against the curving back of the chaise, eyes fastened on the bathroom door. Would he leave through the small bedroom? Not even bother to say goodbye?
He was very quick and within ten minutes came through the door at his usual brisk pace. He paused when he saw her, then went on towards the bedroom door.
He's almost as devastating dressed as undressed, Kath-erine thought dully, taking in his dark suit, the stark white shirt with the top two buttons open, revealing his throat. Then his voice, raw, rough-edged, broke into her confused thoughts as he reached out his hand for the doorknob. "I've got t
o go, goodbye, Katherine." But he didn't turn the knob, just stood there as if waiting for something.
The word slipped out before she could stop it. A softly whispered plea, "Matt."
His hand dropped to his side as he turned slowly. His eyes went over her, taking in her disheveled hair, her almost white face, her body outlined beneath pale lilac satin.
"Oh hell!" he muttered and, dropping his case to the floor, was across the room in a few long strides. In one fluid motion he bent, grasped her arms and pulled her up and off the chaise into his arms.
His mouth close to her ear, he growled, "Touch me, Katherine." It was an order. A command. And without hesitation she slid her arms inside his jacket around his waist, spreading her fingers as she moved her hands slowly up his back.
His lips moved across her cheek in tiny, fiery kisses
and stopped at the corner of her mouth, his tongue teasing, tantalizing her lower lip.
"Matt, please."
"Please what? Please stop? Please kiss you? What?" His voice, a low, hoarse whisper did strange things to her breathing while his hands, moving slowly, sensuously over her spine, set her blood on fire.
"Please kiss me," she managed between gasps for breath.
His mouth covered hers, his lips hard, hungry, his tongue seeking the sweetness within. His hands slid down her spine, drawing her closer, then grasped her hips, moving her in a slow, circular motion against him.
Katherine felt lightheaded, her body boneless and she clung to him as the fiery ache grew inside her.
Matt's mouth slid from hers, forced her head back and left a burning trail to the wildly beating pulse in her throat.
"Oh God! I want you," he groaned, "and that damned plane's waiting."
His hands were gentle on her arms as he put her from him. And she opened her eyes slowly, reluctantly. "I must go," he said softly.
She nodded dumbly and with a guttural curse he bent his head, kissed her hard, then turned and strode across the room, grabbed up his case and left, closing the door quietly.
Katherine shivered. Matt was out there. The plane was waiting, he'd said. His plane. One of the four kept by the company for use by the small army of executives forever on the move between the varied and far-flung offices of Matt's small empire. But not the small jet, the one waiting for Matt tonight. This one was kept exclusively, and ever-ready, for the boss.
Autocratic to the soles of his feet, Matt held the reins of his companies firmly in his large strong hands. There were stockholders and the board of directors, of course, but the final word was his. Always. The enormity of the power he held frightened Katherine. He frightened her.
Why had she allowed herself to be drawn in to his world? she wondered. This alien world of high gear business, and to her, mind-boggling wealth.
What's the point in wondering why? Katherine asked herself, sighing deeply. I am in it. Now, how the hell do I handle it?
Her tears had stopped and she lay back feeling completely drained. She didn't have the vaguest idea how to handle a situation she had never had control of in the first place.
The first thing she had to do, she decided, was control her own emotions. But how? She had never felt so vulnerable before. His words echoed and reechoed in her mind. I want you. A simple statement, direct and to the point. Never I love you. Not even I need you. A blunt I want you.
Well, that had been part of the agreement, hadn't it? The assuagement of his physical wants. He had not asked for her love, nor offered her his. He had stated his requirements clearly, and she had agreed. So what right had she in feeling injured now? None whatever. Except if someone had told her, almost sixteen months ago, that
by now she would be crazily, frantically in love with her husband she would have been shocked.
She was forty-one years old. The mother of not only a baby son, but two fully grown children, the oldest of whom was due, within the next few weeks, to make her a grandmother. She had thought herself mature, settled. If she had thought of love at all, it had been in terms of quiet companionship.
But this! This wildly passionate emotion tearing her apart, was beyond belief. She didn't have the beginnings of an idea how to cope with it, let alone handle it.
She was behaving like a young girl in the throes of first love. No! Katherine corrected herself. Not even with Kevin had she experienced anything like this.
Katherine shivered and realized she had been shivering for some time. The air in the bedroom had chilled. Glancing at her watch her eyes widened in surprise. It was past one. Matt was probably in Atlanta by now. She turned to the window, the wind and rain had increased its fury and pounded mercilessly against the house.
Goose-flesh crawling up her arms, Katherine turned a frowning face on the bed. She couldn't face sleeping in that enormous thing alone tonight.
Jumping up she went to the double dresser, slid open the bottom drawer, pulled out a bright orange comforter and went back to the chaise. Stretching out, she drew the cover over her, tucking it in around her feet and legs, then snuggled into the warm folds.
Sleep refused to come. Her mind repeated an earlier thought. Not even with Kevin had she experienced anything like this. Yet she had loved Kevin. So why was the way she felt now different? Her mind puzzled at that difference. When you loved, you loved, didn't you?
Probing now, needing to find some answers, her mind went back, as it had earlier that day, to her time with Kevin Acker.
From the beginning he had been the ideal boyfriend. From that first laughing, sun-filled summer they spent together, to the day she married him, two weeks after she graduated high school, he had been everything a girl could wish for in her first love.
They spent every weekend, holidays and their summers together, as Kevin was going to college in Philadelphia and was able to come home in less than an hour.
The situation had suited Katherine's parents, for she seldom went out during the week, and so, did not neglect her school work. By the time they married, her parents had grown very fond of him and her brothers, though now sixteen, still carried the torch of hero worship.
A small smile touched Katherine's lips as she compared that hang-dog adoration the young Dave and Dan had given Kevin to the almost awed respect her two thirty-nine-year-old brothers gave Matt.
Having a marked talent for drawing, Katherine had considered going to art school, but Kevin had soon put a stop to that idea. He had waited long enough, he'd told her, and had no intentions of waiting any longer. He wanted to get married as soon as her high school days were over. And so they had.
The first year they were married they lived with Kevin's parents, in the big, old-fashioned house where Kevin was born. The first child, Janice, was born while they lived there, eleven months after the wedding and five days after Katherine's nineteenth birthday.
On completion of college, Kevin was offered an excellently salaried job with a large advertising firm in
Philadelphia and he accepted at once. Though they considered taking an apartment in center city, Kevin's parents, financially comfortable, insisted on supplying the down payment on a home of their own.
Katherine had enjoyed the house hunting, finally deciding on a ranch house in a pleasant Philadelphia suburb.
They moved into the house a few weeks before Christmas and Katherine should have been content. She wasn't, and she didn't know why.
She had everything a girl could wish for: a devoted husband, a beautiful daughter, a lovely home. And yet something seemed to be missing. But what?
Finally deciding it was the frustration of her artistic ability, Katherine enrolled in an art class in Philadelphia, taking two evening classes a week. She loved it and before long, through Kevin, was doing small illustration jobs for the company he worked for. It suited her perfectly as she didn't have to leave her family and was being paid well for her work.
Yet the vague feeling of dissatisfaction remained. It worried and confused Katherine. If she had someone she could talk to it might h
elp. But she didn't. She had moved away from her close friends and although she was friendly with the wives of some of the men Kevin worked with, she had no close women friends.
Having led a fairly sheltered life at a time when mothers discussed very few of the facts of life with their daughters, Katherine's introduction to the sexual relationship between a man and woman came from Kevin, who was himself not overly experienced. And that after the wedding!
Of course they had indulged in light petting, but
Kevin had always stopped before it could become too heated, adhering rigidly to his own strict upbringing.
That her feeling of dissatisfaction and unfulfillment stemmed from Kevin's uninspiring, if not downright dull, lovemaking never occurred to her. And if it had she'd have rejected it guiltily. She loved him. He loved her. And sex was the least important part of marriage, wasn't it?
They were in the house a little over a year when Katherine realized she was again pregnant. The baby was due in the fall and both she and Kevin were delighted. Janice would soon be two and Kevin had said she needed a brother to play with.
Kevin wanted a son. He never saw him. Tommy was born four weeks after his father's death.
Even now, twenty years later, the memory of that night caused pain and Katherine stirred uneasily under the brilliantly colored comforter.
Sitting up suddenly, her eyes widened in disbelief. She had thought the date of that terrible night indelibly imprinted on her mind, and she had just now realized that the anniversary of that date had come and gone while she had been in the mountains with Matt.
She settled back again with a sigh. In all truth, those two days spent in the mountains with Matt had driven thoughts of everything out of her mind.
"Dear God!" Katherine said the words aloud, head swinging to the windows. It had been a night just like this when Kevin died, and Matt was out there.
