Too Long a Sacrifice

by Yvonne Whittal

  'Dammit, don't do that!' he exploded with a harshness that made her flinch visibly, and she bit down hard on her lip when his hands tightened on her shoulders in a punishing grip.

  'Don't do what?' she gasped confusedly, looking up at last to encounter an unfathomable anger in those blue eyes blazing down into hers.

  'Don't always be so damned forgiving!'

  'All right, I won't forgive you!' she retorted furiously placing her hands flat against his hard chest and pushing him away from her. 'You were rude and insulting, and you don't deserve to be forgiven!'

  'That's better,' he smiled twistedly, but that spurt of anger had left her drained, and she did not resist when he led her towards the cane bench and drew her down beside him. 'Why did you pretend that you wanted to marry me when you must have known that you had no intention of allowing our relationship to progress that far?'

  Julia was instantly on her guard, and she shrank from him into the corner of the bench. She sensed a trap in his erratic and confusing behaviour, and she would walk right into it if she was not careful.

  'Isn't it about time you went home to Marcia?' she counter-questioned coldly.

  'Marcia doesn't live with me.' There was a stabbing mockery in the eyes that met hers. 'She's head of a thriving cosmetic company in Johannesburg, and it keeps her pretty busy.'

  'When you told me that you were involved with Marcia I naturally assumed that she would be staying with you at Honeywell,' she explained, wishing she had kept her mouth shut.

  'You assumed incorrectly.' He shifted his arm along the back of the bench behind her shoulders as he leaned towards her, and his knee brushed disturbingly against her thigh. 'I don't want to talk about Marcia, I want to talk about us.'

  'I don't want to discuss the past, Nathan.' She looked away and shifted her position slightly to avoid that disturbing contact with his body. 'It's over, and I want it to stay that way.'

  'It won't be over until I have satisfied myself as to the reason why you changed your mind about marrying me, but we'll leave it there for the moment.' His fingers were beneath her chin, tipping her face up to his and forcing her to look up into his probing eyes. 'How do you feel about tomorrow?'

  'I'm scared,' she heard herself confessing while every nerve in her body had become centred on those strong fingers stroking the curve of her jaw.

  'So am I.'

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. 'You're just saying that to make me feel better.'

  'It's going to be an extremely tricky operation,' he warned with an unexpected mixture of humour and gravity. 'That's why I want you there with me. We worked well together on those occasions when you assisted me as theatre sister, and I'm going to need all the luck I can get.'

  'You don't need to rely on luck,' she rebuked him quietly. 'You're a skilled surgeon, and you were always at your best when the odds were at their longest.'

  Nostalgic memories of the past blended with the present, and when she looked into his eyes she could feel herself melting with that familiar need which had been growing instead of diminishing over the years. Her heart was thudding in a wild tattoo against her ribs when his hand slid beneath her hair to seek out the sensitive nape of her neck, and his face became a blur when she felt his warm breath against her mouth. He was going to kiss her and, God knew, she wanted him to, but sanity returned with the sobering knowledge that she would be trespassing on Marcia Grant's property.

  She drew a jerky breath, and turned her head away a fraction of a second before his lips touched hers. 'You really must go, Nathan. Please… I'm tired and I—I'd like to go to bed.'

  She was feeling sick with misery and unassuaged longing when he drew her to her feet with him. She wanted desperately to feel the strength of his arms about her, but she dared not even contemplate it.

  'I'll see you tomorrow,' he said, tilting her face up to his when she would have preferred to avoid meeting his eyes. 'I'd like you at the hospital an hour before the lime.'

  'I'll be there,' she promised, her heartbeats subsiding and her feelings carefully concealed behind her outwardly calm exterior, but she wondered if she would sleep at all that night while knowing what lay ahead of her the following afternoon.

  'Four o'clock, and don't be late,' he warned sternly.

  Julia was still standing where he had left her when she heard him drive away, and she was alone with her thoughts and fears and that terrible emptiness which only Nathan could fill.

  'Dear God!' she groaned. 'I have got to stop loving and wanting him!'

  CHAPTER SIX

  The operating-theatre at the Doornfield hospital was modern and well equipped, and Julia had donned a sterilised theatre gown and cap to conduct a final check with the theatre staff to ensure that everything would be as Nathan wanted it. She was not as rusty as she had imagined, and she was amazed at the ease with which she slipped back into the role of theatre sister. It was as if she had never relinquished that task.

  She had arrived at the hospital punctually at four o'clock that Tuesday afternoon to find Nathan waiting there for her. He had instructed her briefly but methodically as to the intricate nature of the operation he was to perform, and now, as the minute hand on the large theatre clock moved inexorably towards five o'clock, Julia experienced that familiar tension which she had always encountered before an operation.

  The patient had been wheeled in and transferred to the operating-table, the anaesthetist was prepared and waiting, and Julia was casting a final, critical glance at the instrument tray when the doors were pushed open and Nathan walked in.

  'Here's Mr Corbett now,' the young theatre nurse whispered unnecessarily and with obvious reverence as they watched Nathan approach the operating-table with those long, loose-limbed strides Julia knew so well.

  The past and present seemed to come together with a shattering force while Julia stood looking at Nathan's tall, wide-shouldered frame in the green theatre garb and, if someone had asked, she would have had difficulty trying to explain her feelings at that moment. Pride? Respect? Awe? She was experiencing all three of those emotions, and several more, when she stepped forward, as she had always done in the past, to help him fasten the tapes of his mask. He turned at length to face her, his eyes a startling blue above the white mask, and the last fragment of her nervousness seemed to disintegrate beneath his calm, reassuring glance.

  'Are you ready?'

  The deep timbre of his voice fell pleasantly on her ears, and her grey eyes smiled up at him over her theatre mask. 'I'm ready.'

  Nathan nodded to the anaesthetist, and a few seconds later he held out his gloved hand with an abrupt, 'Scalpel.'

  Julia slapped the instrument into his palm, her confidence in her capabilities restored, and for the next three and a half hours nothing else seemed to exist beyond the operation which was in progress beneath those bright theatre lights. She watched in fascination, marvelling at the extent of Nathan's skill, and the steadiness of his strong, slender-fingered hands, while he worked on the severely damaged nerve tissues. She had seen him operate many times before, and she had always been aware of his brilliance as a neuro-surgeon, but on this occasion she knew that she was observing a polished professional. 'A miracle-worker', Roland had called him, and that was exactly what she was witnessing. Nathan was performing a miracle on this young patient's spinal column, and she had no doubt at all that the fair-haired Tommy Durandt would walk again.

  She could barely conceal the glow of admiration in her eyes when the patient was finally wheeled out of the theatre, and she could not blame Nathan for the look of satisfaction on his face when he pulled down his mask and stripped off his rubber gloves.

  'Thank you, Julia,' he said, smiling at her when they had changed out of their theatre gowns and were drinking a cup of coffee in a small lounge for resident doctors. 'You're still the best theatre sister I've ever worked with.'

  His compliment warmed her, but there was something in his eyes that aroused a trembling inside her which she had difficulty in
controlling.

  'You're the best surgeon I've ever had the honour to assist in the theatre,' she replied, and her sincerity was not feigned. 'Your technique was unfamiliar to me, but it was magnificent.'

  'I had the opportunity to study various new methods in neuro-surgery while I was in Europe, and it was an experience I wouldn't have wanted to miss.'

  'I know,' she murmured, looking away.

  He had spoken without rancour, but tears stung her eyes even though her heart rejoiced. It was worth it! The sacrifice she had made was worth all the pain she had suffered so that he could attain perfection in his profession!

  She blinked away her tears and concentrated on drinking the remainder of her coffee. Nathan was seated in an armchair with his long, powerful legs stretched out in front of him. He looked outwardly relaxed, but for some obscure reason she sensed a certain tension in him. She observed him in silence, her glance taking in his ruggedly handsome face, his sun-browned throat, the wide shoulders beneath the white, open-necked shirt, and the snake-skin belt hugging his grey glacks to his lean hips.

  Nathan's physique was something she had always admired in the past, but, looking at him now, she was alarmingly aware that his physical appearance was awakening an animal attraction in her which she had never encountered before. Her mind recoiled in self-disgust, but her body had become trapped in a heated wave of desire which aroused a pleasurable, aching warmth in that part of her body which was the very essence of her womanhood.

  Their eyes met unexpectedly, and shame and embarrassment sent a rush of hot blood into her cheeks when his mouth curved in a slow, sensuous smile. He knew! 'Don't be ridiculous!' she admonished herself, but she could not shake off that feeling that, in some uncanny way, he knew exactly what she was experiencing at that moment!

  She had to get away! She got to her feet and started towards the door, knowing that she had to get away before she made an idiot of herself, but she had an awful feeling that her legs were going to cave in beneath her when she placed her mug on the table beside the stainless-steel coffee-urn.

  'Are you going already?'

  She could feel Nathan's eyes on her when she picked up her handbag, and her insides twitched nervously in the aftermath of what had occurred.

  'It's late,' she said without turning, her jaw clenched so tightly that the words came out in a hiss between her teeth.

  'So it is,' he drawled lazily. 'I'll stay a while longer to check on young Tommy before I leave.'

  Julia regained a measure of her composure, and she clung to it desperately when she glanced briefly at Nathan to wish him a curt goodnight before she left.

  Her heart was beating so hard and fast that she could scarcely breathe, and blind panic forced her to quicken her pace as she made her way along the well lit hospital corridors towards the reception hall. The cool night air wafted against her face when she stepped out of the building. It revived her, but she was shaking so much when she reached her car that it took several seconds to insert the key into the Toyota's ignition.

  'Pull yourself together, Julia Henderson!' she reprimanded herself fiercely when nervous haste made her stall the engine, and after a second attempt she drove away without a hitch.

  The familiar smell of antiseptics still hovered about her when she arrived at her cottage shortly after nine thirty that evening, and she wasted no time in stripping off her clothes and getting into a hot bath. She was tired, and the hot, scented water eased that aching tension out of her muscles, but her mind was still in a shameful turmoil.

  She was not ignorant of the extent to which a woman's emotions could be aroused, but the feelings she had experienced in that small hospital lounge this evening had come close to animal lust. Her body had suddenly cried out for Nathan's with a sharp and unexpected stab of desire which she had been incapable of controlling.

  Julia's cheeks flamed with remembered embarrassment, and she slid lower into the water, wishing that she could drown herself along with her shame. Did Nathan know? Had he guessed? Or had her overcharged senses heightened her imagination?

  She was restless and agitated when she got out of the bath and dried herself vigorously. Oh, how she wished she could erase the memory of what had occurred with equal ease, but she couldn't, and she groaned inwardly as she slipped into her blue towelling robe and fastened the belt about her waist with a vicious tug. She took off her shower-cap, shook her hair free, and pushed her feet into soft mules before she went to the kitchen.

  She was not hungry, but she had to eat something, and she boiled an egg and made herself a slice of toast and coffee. The egg and toast went down with difficulty, but she lingered at the kitchen table, enjoying her cup of coffee. She felt calmer; she was beginning to relax, but she jumped nervously minutes later when someone knocked loudly on her front door, and her glance shifted to the battery-operated clock on the kitchen dresser. Ten thirty!

  She leapt to her feet, her nerves flaring at the sound of her chair scraping on the floor, and she walked slowly down the passage, not daring to guess at the identity of her caller, but something, a hidden instinct perhaps, was whispering one name persistently in her mind.

  'Who is it?' she demanded, and she hated herself for that note of panic she heard in her voice.

  'It's Nathan.'

  Her pulses leapt wildly at the sound of that familiar voice, and she was breathing jerkily as she shrank away from the door. No! She could not let him in!

  'Open the door, Julia!'

  That authoritative command was sobering and, in control of herself once again, her hands reached out to lift the latch. The cool night air was heavy with the heady scent of moonflowers. It sharpened her senses, and alerted her to the alarming fact that she was naked beneath her towelling robe when Nathan stepped inside without waiting to be invited.

  'What are you doing here at this hour of the night?' she demanded, her anger directed at herself rather than at Nathan.

  'I wish I could say that I was passing and saw your light on, but that wouldn't be true.'

  Alarm-bells rang at the back of her mind, but they grew faint when she realised that he was still wearing the same clothes he had worn at the hospital. 'Don't tell me you've been at the hospital until now?'

  'I didn't want to leave until I was sure that our patient was resting comfortably.'

  Julia's eyes followed the path of the hand which he raised to rub the back of his neck. He was tired and, knowing him as well as she did, she was convinced that he had been too busy going over the operation in his mind to think of having a decent meal during the day.

  'Are you hungry?' she asked, the practical side of her taking charge of the situation.

  'Now that you mention it, I'm starving,' he admitted, smiling guiltily, and Julia hesitated only for a fraction of a second to question the wisdom of what she was doing before she closed the door and led the way into the lounge.

  'I'll make you something to eat, and then you must go home,' she said, adopting a cool, brisk manner as she walked towards the small teak cabinet in the corner of the room. 'Would you like a glass of sherry while you wait?' she asked without looking at him.

  'That would be nice, thank you.'

  'Sit down and relax,' she instructed, and she waited while he took off his blue blazer and lowered his tall, tired frame into a chair before she gave him the glass of sherry she had poured. 'I'll call you when the food is ready.'

  Julia left him in the lounge, and she was in a feverish haste when she dashed into her bedroom to change into an old pair of lilac slacks and a faded yellow blouse. She brushed her hair into some order, and she was feeling less naked when she went into the kitchen to prepare a meal for Nathan.

  She had steak grilling in the oven, and she was carrying a plate of sliced bread and cheese to the table when Nathan walked into the kitchen with his half-empty glass of sherry in his hand.

  'If I stayed in the lounge much longer I might have fallen asleep,' he explained, and there was a hint of mockery in his glance when it
flicked over her. 'There was no need to get dressed for me, you know.'

  She flushed and turned away to concentrate on slicing a tomato into the salad she was preparing. Nathan seated himself at the table where she had laid a place for him, and she almost sliced into her finger when she felt his eyes on her. The steak was almost ready, and she broke two eggs into the pan which she had placed in readiness on the stove.

  'Are you going to hire someone to take charge of the farm when you're away?' She said the first thing that came to mind in an attempt to make conversation when the silence between them started to gnaw uncomfortably at her nerves.

  'I have already hired someone.'

  'Honeywell was always a cattle farm.'

  'I intend to keep it that way,' he replied evenly. 'What did you do about your grandmother's house in Johannesburg?'

  Julia was instantly on her guard when he mentioned her grandmother, and she was wary of the questions which might follow. 'I sold the house along with most of its contents.'

  'What made you decide to come to a place like Doornfield?'

  'It's quiet and peaceful, and I knew that I could be happy here.'

  'Are you happy, Julia?'

  'Yes.' That was part truth and part lie, and she smiled derisively when she glanced at him over her shoulder. 'Did you expect me not to be?'

  'I'm not sure what I expected.' Nathan's appraising glance swept critically down the length of her slender, supple body, and she could feel her skin tingle as if he had actually touched her. 'You've lost weight, but it suits you,' he added with a sensuous smile.

  She looked away quickly, incapable of sustaining his glance, but she was unnervingly aware of his eyes following every movement she made when she removed the steak from under the grill and scooped the eggs into the plate which she had warmed in the oven drawer.

  'I'm afraid this is the best I can do at short notice,' she apologised at length, placing the plate of steak and eggs in front of him and casting a glance over the table to make sure that he had everything he might require.