by Penny Jordan
Oddly enough, it was not the fact that in committing himself to Vanessa Sam was putting the past behind him that made her throat raw and tight, but the knowledge that she and her brother were now on opposite sides of the line that divided those who had love in their lives and those who did not.
She wasn’t jealous, she told herself as she watched the tender look Sam and Vanessa exchanged. How could she be? After all, if she had wanted another emotional relationship she could have had one with Jonas…
Although it had been the last thing she had intended to say she heard herself commenting brightly to Vanessa, ‘I see Jonas is back. The lights were on in one of the greenhouses last night.’
‘Yes, he came back just before Sam and I went out. I’m hoping the news of our engagement will put him in a better mood than he’s been in these last few days. Something’s obviously bothering him, but I don’t know what. It isn’t like Jonas to be bad-tempered. He’s had his problems with the business, but I’ve never seen him with his temper on as short a fuse as it’s on at the moment.’
‘It sounds to me as though he needs a woman in his life,’ laughed Sam.
‘Umm.’ Vanessa looked rather grave. ‘The parents have been hoping for a long time that he’ll marry. My mother worries that his mother’s death had such a traumatic effect on him that he won’t let himself risk a deep emotional attachment. I can say this to both of you without being disloyal, because you’ve both experienced the same kind of loss. Jonas hates anyone to think he’s anything less than completely invincible, but at heart he’s a tremendous romantic. I know when I was pregnant he told me that there was no way he’d ever leave any woman to bear his child alone. Of course that was some time ago, but he’s always had a very over-developed sense of responsibility towards others. Perhaps now that I’m off his hands he might start to think seriously about looking for a wife. He needs someone he can share the burden of the house with—and despite its beauty, in many ways it is a burden. It simply eats money on maintenance and upkeep.’
‘Obviously what he needs is a very rich wife,’ quipped Sara lightly, but Vanessa frowned, her expression very earnest as she said seriously,
‘Oh no, Sara, Jonas would never marry just for financial gain. He’s very old-fashioned and proud in that way, you know, very much in the same mould as his father.’
‘You mean he wants an obedient little homebody of a wife, who’ll let him walk all over her?’
Sara could tell by the indignant colour in Vanessa’s cheeks that she wasn’t pleased.
‘I thought you and Jonas liked one another,’ she said stiffly, ‘but it seems I was wrong. Please forgive me, I shouldn’t have bored you with my personal family concerns, Sara.’ With a very chilly smile she turned to Sam. ‘I’d better get back now, darling. Do you still want to break the news to Carly at lunchtime as we planned or…’
‘It’s all arranged,’ Sam told her firmly. ‘I’ve booked a table at The Bull, and I’ve told Carly it’s a very special occasion. I suspect she already has a pretty good idea of what’s going to happen. She asked me last night if I thought that God might send her the new mummy she’s been praying for soon.’
After he had watched Vanessa drive away Sam turned back from the window and said judicially, ‘You were a bit hard on Jonas there, Sara.’
‘I’m sorry if I upset Vanessa.’ Her voice was toneless, but in reality she felt extremely guilty. Vanessa’s quiet reaction to her comments had made her feel very uncomfortable and bad-mannered.
‘She’s a very fond sister,’ was Sam’s only comment, although he added, ‘and you should know what that means. I must say though, that, like her, I thought you and he were getting on pretty well.’
‘You mean you thought there might be another romance brewing,’ snapped Sara. ‘That would be nice and tidy, wouldn’t it? But I’m not like you, Sam—I can’t bring myself to forget the past and start afresh.’
‘Now just a minute.’ Looking very angry, Sam hobbled towards her, gripping her arm. ‘If you’re trying to insinuate that because I’m marrying Vanessa, Holly and my life with her will be completely forgotten, you couldn’t be more wrong. Vanessa and I are both agreed that we want Carly to grow up feeling that she can talk freely about her mother. Holly was a very important part of my life before I met Vanessa, and she will always have a place in my heart. The fact that I’m marrying Vanessa doesn’t mean I’m trying to wipe out the past. I love Vanessa in a very different way than I loved Holly. She and I were young together; neither of us had experienced the pain that both Vanessa and I have experienced. It will be a different relationship—a different relationship, Sara, not a better or a worse one, simply a different one. You know, you’re clinging so hard to the past that I’m beginning to wonder why you’re so frightened to let it go. This isn’t the life Rick would have wanted for you…’
‘How do you know what Rick would have wanted for me?’
It shocked her to hear herself practically screaming the words.
‘I know because he was my friend a damn sight longer than he was your fiancé,’ Sam returned, equally incensed. ‘I’ve sat back and watched while you’ve put him on a pedestal, Sara, but I’m telling you now that the Rick you seem to have enshrined in your memories bears precious little resemblance to the Rick I knew; he was a living, breathing human being, not a demigod.’
‘Stop it; I don’t want to listen to any more!’ Covering her ears, Sara ran out of the room, not stopping until she had reached the sanctuary of her own bedroom.
As she sank down on the bed, she chided herself for her adolescent behaviour. It was all Jonas’s fault, she thought tormentedly. Until he came into her life she had been quite content, and now…
Now she ached with an unsatisfied sexual need that tormented her mentally nearly as much as it did physically. It seemed incomprehensible that she should be subject to this fierce tug of physical desire, a desire so strong that it made her jumpy and short-tempered, that it tricked her into quarrelling with Sam and upsetting Vanessa. With a low moan she buried her head in her hands. Perhaps the only way she was going to get rid of it was to succumb to it. Shocked by what she was being forced to admit, she got up and walked over to the window.
Carly was playing outside in the garden with the dog. When Sam and Vanessa married there would be no place here for her. She would have to find somewhere else to live…and some means of supporting herself.
Soon Vanessa would be returning to pick Sam and Carly up for their luncheon date. She glanced at her watch. There was plenty of time to get Carly washed and ready; like Sam, she did not anticipate any problems with the little girl accepting Vanessa as her stepmother. Already she had shown how much she liked Vanessa, and Vanessa herself was not the type to differentiate between her stepdaughter and any other children she and Sam might have.
She would go downstairs and bring Carly in to get her ready, but first she had to make her peace with Sam.
Squaring her shoulders, she went down to his sitting-room. It was easier than she had expected. He was as eager to make up their quarrel as she was.
‘I’m sorry if I upset you,’ he apologised gruffly. ‘But since I’ve met Vanessa I’ve begun to realise what you’re doing to yourself, Sara. You’re turning yourself into a nun, living life only at third-hand. That isn’t what Rick would have wanted for you. I know that…’
‘Maybe it’s what I want for myself,’ responded Sara lightly, but he refused to be mollified.
‘If it is you’re motivated purely by cowardice,’ he told her bluntly. ‘You won’t let yourself make a commitment to another man because you’re afraid. Don’t think I don’t realise that, or that I don’t sympathise, but try to see what you’re doing to yourself!’
‘We could argue about this for the rest of our lives, Sam, and still remain on opposite sides of the fence. You’ve chosen your way of life and you must leave me to choose mine. I’ll go out and get Carly and get her ready. You deserve to be happy,’ she told him quietly, �
��and I’m sorry if I seemed churlish. I know that marrying Vanessa doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten Holly.’
‘No, it doesn’t, any more than you marrying someone else would mean that you’ve forgotten Rick.’
He saw the shuttered look close her face and sighed. ‘Okay, from now on we’ll consider the subject taboo, but there is one final thing I want to add, Sara. Vanessa and I are both agreed that you’ll always have a home here.’
He might say that now, but Sara knew that there would come a time when her brother would want his wife and family to himself. However, there was no point in discussing it now.
‘When do you plan to get married?’ she asked instead.
‘As soon as possible. Neither of us see any point in waiting. Of course there could be a problem in that Jonas will have to find someone to take over Vanessa’s job. I don’t suppose you’d fancy giving it a try?’
‘No way,’ Sara told him firmly. Work for Jonas? She shuddered at the very thought!
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE thunder which she had expected would clear the air hadn’t been totally effective, and a slumbrous stillness permeated the atmosphere when Sara walked round the garden a little later on.
She was leaning over the fence, talking to the donkey, when she heard Vanessa’s car. Its doors slammed and then she saw the flash of sunlight bouncing off the glass as Sam opened the French window, Vanessa coming out after him.
She was hidden from them by one of the overgrown rhododendron bushes that someone had planted to screen the paddock from the garden, but it was obvious that she had waited a little too long to answer Sam’s call, Sara realised in dismay as she stepped away from the fence and saw her brother take Vanessa in his arms.
There was nothing tentative or hesitant about the way they kissed, and the sight of them lost to everything but their blind need for one another invoked such a terrible tearing agony of deprivation inside her that she was half-way down the garden before she realised that she was running.
It was an indication of how engrossed they were in each other that neither Vanessa nor Sam seemed to have heard her noisy flight. She could hardly go back now, she thought numbly—at least not without embarrassing both herself and Vanessa. She had never considered herself prudish, but there was something particularly intimate about the kiss she had unwittingly observed, and all she knew was that she wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to witness her kissing and being kissed so passionately.
At the bottom of the garden where it touched the boundary fence of Jonas’s land was a heavy wooden gate. Biting her lip, Sara turned the handle and stepped through it.
Beyond the rough grass that edged the fence lay several very large polythene growing tunnels. Edging her way between them, Sara went in search of a path that would lead her back to the road that ran past the cottage. That way, she could get back without either Sam or Vanessa being aware that they had been observed. If they asked where she had been she could always tell them that she had gone for a walk.
Deeply engrossed in her thoughts, she was unaware of Jonas’s cat-like progress towards her until she almost cannoned into him. The shock of seeing him, on top of the turmoil she had already experienced, thoroughly shocked her, the colour draining out of her face as she stepped back warily.
‘Careful; the path is a bit rocky here.’
The sensation of Jonas’s fingers on her arm disturbed her. The sleeves of his checked shirt were rolled up to the elbows, revealing the lean muscularity of his arms. He had nice arms, she thought absently, neither too brawny nor lacking in muscle.
The trickle of sensation curling down her spine as she fought back the impulse to touch his skin with her fingers threw her completely off balance, and she tugged away from Jonas’s restraining hand more out of fear of her own emotions than resentment of his touching her.
As she stepped back her heel missed the cinder path, and she overbalanced wildly, falling heavily on her left ankle. The pain that shot through it was so excruciating that she couldn’t hold back a shocked cry.
The next moment Jonas was down on his knees in front of her, his fingers running capably and gently over her rapidly swelling flesh.
‘You haven’t broken it. It’s just a sprain.’
Looking down on him while he kneeled at her feet was the oddest sensation; something akin to tenderness welled up inside her. She almost reached out to touch the soft thickness of his dark hair, but fortunately common sense stopped her.
‘I’ll have to carry you up to the house,’ he said. ‘That ankle will need bathing, and you can’t put any weight on it.’
She was in his arms before she could find the breath to protest, the sudden insecurity of finding herself above the ground making her cling instinctively to him, her hands locking behind his neck.
This close, she could smell the scent of his skin. A soft sheen of perspiration dampened his throat, and where her fingers rested against his back, his shirt stuck to his skin.
One arm supported her beneath her knees, the other resting against her midriff just below the curve of her breast.
Outside the back door, Jonas balanced her against his thigh as he pushed open the door. The ripples of quicksilver heat that darted through her as she felt his muscles compacting in a subtle reminder of his masculinity infuriated her, all the more so because she knew quite well that there was nothing in the least provocative in his movements, and that he was simply reacting instinctively to a minor crisis. A crisis which he would have handled in exactly the same way whatever her sex.
‘I’ll take you upstairs so that I can have a look at your ankle,’ he told her as he carried her through the kitchen, nudging the door open with his shoulder. His movements brought his fingers into a more intimate contact with her breast, and the sudden ache of need that shocked through her made her catch her breath.
‘What’s wrong? Did I jolt you? It won’t be long now. I want to make sure that the skin isn’t broken; those cinders can be lethal if they get embedded.’
‘Then why use them?’ Sara asked him tartly, glad of something to cling on to to distract her from the effect of their intimacy.
‘Mainly because they happen to be cheap. Luckily we don’t get many people wandering along them in high heels,’ he added sardonically. ‘Since I can’t imagine that you were looking for me, what exactly was it you were looking for?’
As he shouldered open one of the bedroom doors, Sara bit her lip in vexation. She could hardly tell him the truth.
‘I was just curious to see what lay on the other side of our fence,’ she lied.
The room looked like a guest room, the bedspread pristine smooth and the furniture highly polished.
‘I brought you in here because this room has its own bathroom,’ Jonas told her, dropping her carelessly on to the bed. ‘If you hang on a minute, I’ll go into my own bathroom and bring back some iodine and a bandage.’ He paused and eyed her sardonically. ‘Curious, were you? Strange,’ he scoffed mockingly. ‘Curiosity—about anything—would be the very last thing I’d expect from you.’
Sara knew that he was deliberately taunting her, and the taunt stung, but she kept her eyes averted, trying not to wince as he dropped down on his haunches beside her, carefully taking her foot between his hands.
‘Mmm…the skin doesn’t seem to be grazed, but we’ll get it cleaned up and then take another look. Don’t go away,’ he drawled mockingly, getting up and heading for the door.
He was only gone for ten minutes at the most, but it was long enough for Sara to have edged her way restlessly off the bed, and to have started moving in an awkward crab-like motion towards the door.
It opened inward just as she reached it, the curse that left Jonas’s lips making her flinch.
‘What is it about you?’ he demanded irefully. ‘Just where in hell’s name did you think you were going?’
‘To find a telephone. Sam and Vanessa will be wondering where I am.’
‘Stop worrying; they know. I rang the cot
tage while I was in my room and told Sam what had happened. I’ll run you back there later when we get that ankle strapped up. I’m afraid this is going to hurt,’ he warned her, depositing the tray he was carrying on the bedside chest. It contained a bowl of water, some iodine and cotton wool, a bandage and a nearly full bottle of brandy. ‘It will help take the edge off the shock and the physical pain,’ said Jonas, seeing her look at the brandy. ‘Here, drink this.’
The glass he poured her seemed far too generous. Sara rarely touched spirits, not liking the taste, and she grimaced as the fierce heat of the brandy bit into her throat.
‘Don’t sip it, drink it,’ Jonas directed, watching her grimly. Already she could feel her head beginning to spin, a reminder that as yet today she had had nothing to eat, and yet, sensing that if she proved obdurate he would force the stuff down her throat, Sara reluctantly drained the glass.
‘Good girl.’ Jonas crouched down beside her again, one hand holding her ankle while the other explored it gently. As he touched the tender area where it was swollen, Sara winced. ‘These jeans are going to have to come off. If you can stand the loss I suggest I cut them free—that will be the least painful method of removing them.’
The jeans in question were the cropped type that finished above the ankle, snugly hugging the shape of her leg, and the thought of tugging them off over her tender skin made Sara grimace.
She watched in silence as Jonas wielded the scissors in a businesslike fashion, cutting up the outside seam to her waistband. Underneath her jeans she was wearing a pair of minuscule cotton briefs, and her shocked, protesting attempt to cover herself with the denim as Jonas casually pushed the fabric aside and proceeded to tug her ruined jeans off her uninjured leg made him pause and stare at her uncomprehendingly.
‘What the devil’s the matter?’ he demanded grimly, his mouth suddenly relaxing into an unforgivably amused curve as he told her softly, ‘I have seen a woman’s body before, you know.’