Sarah's Secret

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Sarah's Secret Page 8

by Catherine George


  ‘No,’ she said, after a taut little silence. ‘Never.’

  ‘Not even to Davy’s father?’

  ‘Him least of all.’

  ‘And you obviously don’t want to talk about it,’ he said after a moment, and turned his attention back to the sunset. ‘Right. So what time shall I come for you on Wednesday?’

  ‘Early, I’m afraid. The wedding’s not until three, but it’s a fair trip, and I’ll need time when we arrive to tidy up and change into my finery. Which reminds me,’ she added. ‘Do you possess a golf umbrella?’

  He grinned. ‘No. But I can borrow one. Why?’

  ‘So we can arrive in church in reasonable nick if it rains, of course.’

  ‘I’ll see to it,’ he promised.

  While the shadows lengthened, and the sun disappeared over the trees at the end of the garden, they went on talking with the easy familiarity of friends of a lot longer standing than they actually were, at peace with the world and each other.

  ‘I’ve enjoyed today,’ said Jake at one stage, and shot a look at Sarah. ‘I didn’t spoil things for you by gate-crashing the party?’

  ‘Not in the least.’ Finding it easier to admit in the fading light, Sarah told him the truth. ‘I was delighted to see you, Jake.’

  ‘Thank God for that. But you realise that Don and Alison now have us pigeonholed as a couple?’ he added.

  ‘Next time I see them I’ll tell them we’re not,’ she said, unconcerned.

  ‘Why?’ Jake demanded. ‘Maybe we’re not exactly the sort of couple they think we are. But we’re definitely a pair of some kind, Sarah.’

  ‘If the subject comes up I’ll say we’re just good friends.’

  ‘Which will convince them beyond all doubt that we’re lovers.’ Jake heaved a sigh. ‘Which we’re not, alas.’

  Sarah shivered suddenly, and rubbed her arms. ‘It’s getting chilly. Let’s go inside. I’ll make some supper.’

  Switching lights on as she went, Sarah led the way to the kitchen. ‘How do you feel about omelettes?’

  ‘Enthusiastic,’ he assured her. ‘Though I didn’t come here tonight expecting to be fed.’

  ‘What exactly did you expect?’

  Jake’s smile was wry. ‘Very little, Miss Tracy. A habit I’m learning fast where you’re concerned, to avoid disappointment. Can I do something?’

  ‘No.’ She flashed a gleaming dark look at him. ‘Just sit there and look decorative while I work.’

  He threw back his head and laughed.

  The kitchen, which had originally served the entire household, was now Sarah’s private domain. But years before it had been renovated to Margaret Parker’s requirements, with modern appliances and cupboards, and plenty of space for pots of herbs on the broad ledge of a window Sarah’s master builder grandfather had enlarged to give his wife a better view of the garden. These days Margaret’s state-of-the art kitchen was upstairs in her self-contained flat, converted from a small spare bedroom with the same view.

  When they sat down to eat puffy omelettes flavoured with parsley and chives, Jake attacked his with gusto.

  ‘Though after the lunch we ate I hadn’t expected to be hungry again today,’ he commented.

  Sarah glanced up at the clock on the wall. ‘It’s after nine. Hours since lunch. Have some more bread.’

  ‘This is a big kitchen for just you, Sarah,’ he said, eyeing his surroundings.

  ‘Especially as my main activity in here is throwing a salad together! But in its heyday it would have served a big household, probably as much as a dozen or so originally.’ She smiled. ‘Three attic bedrooms and four double bedrooms, one with dressing room. But originally only one bathroom—with a solitary lavatory inside it—to serve all the occupants. At one time there was another, in an outhouse at the back, but that was kept for the servants’ use, in the days when people had such things.’

  Jake smiled. ‘Sounds like the setting for a television costume drama.’

  Sarah got up to take their plates, then made coffee. ‘It’s a huge contrast to the home I grew up in. My father was a civil engineer who worked in hotel construction all over the world. He had a house built for my mother, complete with every gadget and convenience possible to make life easy for her.’

  ‘Was your mother delicate, then?’

  ‘She wasn’t the most robust of people, it’s true, but that wasn’t the reason. It was just the way Dad was with her. Always.’ Sarah leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to perk. ‘I only realised how special their marriage was when I was old enough to notice other people’s. My parents idolised each other.’

  Jake looked at her questioningly. ‘Did that mean you felt excluded?’

  ‘Good heavens, no. I felt part of the equation, always.’ She brought the coffee pot over and sat down to pour.

  He leaned over to touch her hand. ‘So there was no problem with them when Davy was born?’

  Sarah kept her eyes on her task. ‘Not in that way.’

  Jake leaned back again. ‘But it must have been pretty tough for a teenager, just the same.’

  ‘Not nearly as tough as for some. Because Davy was born in my gap year I was able to take up my college place, as planned. And I led a normal, rackety student life during term, but switched back to the role of Mummy when I went home—’ Sarah stopped abruptly. ‘This isn’t something I normally discuss, Jake.’

  ‘I’m very much aware of that. Thank you, Sarah. And now,’ he added briskly, ‘what time shall I call for you on Wednesday morning?’

  ‘I’d like to get there by twelve if possible,’ she said, grateful to him for changing the subject.

  ‘Right. I’ll be here at six.’

  ‘Sorry to get you up at that hour.’

  ‘Not a bit of it. I wake early most mornings,’ he assured her. ‘And I’d rather start when the roads are relatively quiet. We can stop for coffee somewhere, to break the journey, and grab something to eat at the hotel when we get there.’

  Sarah smiled at him gratefully. ‘This is very good of you, Jake.’

  ‘As I keep saying, Miss Tracy, it’s what friends are for.’ He got up reluctantly. ‘Thank you for supper. Shall I help wash up?’

  She shook her head, laughing. ‘You’re just too good to be true, Jake Hogan. I’ll let you off the dishes in case your halo gets too tight.’

  He grinned. ‘I only offered so I could stay longer!’

  ‘You can do that anyway. Come back to the sitting room for a while.’

  He followed her into the other room and sat down with her on the sofa. ‘Good. Now we can practise behaving like the old friends we’re supposed to be. Though that isn’t difficult. Not for me, anyway.’

  ‘Nor for me.’ Sarah turned her head on the sofa-back to look at him. ‘I’m very glad you came to the lunch today, Jake.’

  ‘So am I.’ He smiled into her eyes. ‘I’ll send flowers to Alison tomorrow. Though she won’t know I’m really thanking her for an entire Sunday spent with you. Not something that’s likely to occur often, alas.’

  ‘True,’ Sarah agreed with regret.

  ‘Would Davy really object if the three of us spent time together?’

  ‘Probably not. But that isn’t going to happen just the same, Jake.’

  He was silent for a moment. ‘Why not?’

  She sighed. ‘Because you and I may not remain—friends, Jake. So I can’t risk any attachment to you on Davy’s part. Her world fell apart when my parents died. It’s taken from that time almost until now to give her any real sense of security. This wavered badly when she went to board at Roedale, but she’s getting back on course again now and I want her to stay that way.’

  Jake looked across at the photograph of the two smiling faces, then turned back to Sarah. ‘So are you saying you’ve never had a relationship since Davy was born?’

  ‘No, I’m not. I had boyfriends in college, like everyone else, but nothing significant. And Davy was never involved.’ Sarah looked away. ‘
I led a perfectly normal life—or what I thought of as a normal life—until my parents died. After that everything changed. We had to move in here with my grandmother, and you know the rest.’

  ‘So you won’t let a man into your life in case the relationship harms Davy,’ said Jake slowly.

  ‘Which has been no problem up to now,’ she admitted.

  Jake reached out a hand to turn her face to his. ‘Up to now,’ he repeated inexorably. ‘Does that mean you’d consider a closer relationship with me if it weren’t for Davy?’

  Sarah nodded wordlessly, then closed her eyes, suddenly defenceless when he drew her into his arms. ‘Please, Jake!’

  ‘Please what?’ he whispered, and kissed her very gently.

  It wasn’t fair, she thought wildly. The merest touch of Jake’s lips roused all kinds of hot, unbidden responses never experienced with the most passionate overtures from anyone else.

  ‘Don’t push me away, Sarah. You need a little tender loving care,’ he whispered, raising his head a fraction.

  ‘Is that what this is?’ she said unevenly, and closed her eyes against the heat in his.

  ‘Yes,’ he said tightly. ‘And it’s killing me, because I want a hell of a lot more.’

  He kissed her again, and this time the kiss was hot and hard, and for the first time she answered it in kind, shivers running down her spine as his tongue met hers and his hands slid upwards beneath her shirt to caress her bare back. Her breasts tautened in anticipation of the caresses she was sure would happen any second as the kiss deepened. The growing hunger of it set her body alight, and she gasped as his fingers sought the nipples straining against the thin cotton of her shirt. Heat streaked through her from his fingertips, the shock of it causing such turbulence her inevitable defence mechanism sprang to life, and she jerked away violently, hands outstretched to ward him off.

  Jake gave a smothered groan and leapt to his feet to stand at the windows, his chest heaving as he stared out blindly into the dark, while Sarah slumped into a corner of the sofa, feeling as though she’d been dropped from a great height. It was a long time before she could trust her voice, but at last she cleared her throat, her dark eyes heavy with remorse. ‘I’m sorry, Jake.’

  He stayed where he was, his back turned to her. ‘So am I,’ he said tersely. ‘Because you’re a puzzle I just can’t solve. I want you, Sarah. And it hurts like hell to know you don’t want me.’

  ‘Ah, but I do,’ she said miserably.

  Jake turned sharply, his eyes blazing into hers. ‘So why—?’ Colour leached suddenly from his face. ‘Sarah, for God’s sake, tell me! Were you raped?’

  Sarah jumped up to take his hands. ‘No, Jake. It was nothing like that.’

  Jake held her close, his cheek rubbing against her hair as he let out a deep breath of relief. ‘Thank goodness for that, at least.’ He pulled away a little and smiled down at her. ‘Maybe one day you’ll be able to tell me about it. When you know me better. Which I’m determined you will. Better than anyone else in the world, in fact. But for now I’m going to let you get some rest and take myself off home.’

  ‘Thank you, Jake,’ she said huskily.

  ‘What for, exactly?’

  Sarah’s eyes were luminous in her flushed face. ‘Everything.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MARGARET PARKER left for Pisa with a group of friends next day. And without her formidable presence the atmosphere in the house seemed lighter. Far from feeling lonely or nervous, Sarah was happy to have the place to herself, her spirits rising even further when Jake rang.

  ‘Just thought I’d report in, check that all was well with you, Sarah.’

  ‘How nice of you.’

  ‘I am nice.’ He chuckled. ‘My day has been incredibly boring, so tell me about yours.’

  ‘Much the same as usual, except for a shopping spree after work. And I’ve been chatting to Nick, the amazingly jittery bridegroom. He rang earlier to make sure I was coming.’

  ‘Did you mention me?’

  ‘I certainly did. He told me to say he’s looking forward to meeting you, then went on at enormous length about the virtues of his Delphine. The man’s head over heels in love at last!’

  ‘You don’t mind that?’

  ‘Of course not. Nick and I have always been the best of friends. But there was never anything else between us.’

  ‘So I’ve no reason to feel jealous?’

  ‘None at all.’ Sarah paused. ‘Are you the jealous type, Jake?’

  ‘Only when you’re concerned, it seems,’ he said lightly. ‘So tell me about your shopping spree.’

  ‘I hired a hat for the occasion.’

  ‘One of those big cartwheel affairs?’

  ‘No. Small and frivolous.’

  ‘Can’t wait to see you in it. What else did you buy?’

  ‘The wedding gift—’

  ‘I’m glad you mentioned that. As well as the pleasure of talking to you, Miss Tracy, I rang to pick your brains. What shall I buy the happy pair?’

  ‘Since you’ve never met them, you don’t need to buy them anything.’

  ‘What did you choose?’

  Sarah described the hand-carved wooden fruit bowl she’d chosen, but glossed over the fact that its price tag had put paid to new shoes. ‘We can both sign the card,’ she suggested.

  ‘Then I insist on paying half—I won’t ruffle your feathers by offering to foot the entire bill!’

  ‘Wise man,’ she said, laughing. ‘Half will do nicely.’ So nicely she might search through the sales for shoes next day after all.

  ‘I’ll be home latish tomorrow evening, Sarah, but I’ll be with you bright and early on Wednesday.’

  ‘I’ll be ready. Goodnight, Jake. Thanks for ringing.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  Her pleasure too, Sarah acknowledged as she got ready for bed. Added to the sexual attraction which grew stronger every time they met, she liked every last thing about Jake Hogan. His smile, his voice, his looks. His touch. The mere thought of his hands on her skin and his mouth on hers, and— Her mind veered away sharply. She knew she was a frustrating puzzle to Jake, but there were some vital missing pieces to put in place before she could even begin to consider the kind of relationship he wanted. And which she was beginning to want just as much.

  Sarah was in the middle of packing the following evening when Jake rang her doorbell, demanding entry.

  She let him in, her delight undisguised at the sight of him. Then her eyes widened in dismay. Something had happened. He couldn’t take her to the wedding after all. ‘Something wrong, Jake?’

  ‘I just needed to see you,’ he said simply, and kissed her briefly.

  Sarah was so pleased to hear it she kissed him back. ‘I thought you’d come to say you couldn’t make it tomorrow,’ she said, as they went into the sitting room.

  ‘Not a bit of it,’ he assured her, and sank down on the sofa, stifling a yawn. ‘I’ve spent the last two days working my socks off to make sure I can leave Pentiles to its own devices for a while.’

  ‘Have you eaten?’

  ‘Yes. I took pity on my staff and had something sent in between meetings. So right now I just want to sit and hold hands with you for a few minutes.’ Jake held up his hand and Sarah took it, letting him draw her down beside him.

  ‘You look tired,’ she commented.

  ‘I am. But I shall get myself to bed early tonight. And then tomorrow I’m yours,’ he assured her. ‘All through the meetings and presentations I missed you yesterday, Sarah. I missed you today, too. Which is why I’m here, even though I’ll be seeing you in the morning.’ His grasp tightened. ‘And not just for the kiss—which I couldn’t help when I saw the worried look in those beautiful eyes.’

  ‘Worried I didn’t have a driver for tomorrow,’ she agreed with feeling.

  He moved closer. ‘Would you have been disappointed?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sarah looked down at their clasped hands. ‘And not just because I didn’t want
to go alone, either.’

  Jake put a finger under her chin to turn her face up to his. ‘Can it be the lady’s warming towards me?’

  ‘You know I am!’ She met his eyes steadily. ‘But the situation still stands, Jake.’

  He nodded, resigned. ‘But the odd friendly kiss can’t do any harm. In fact,’ he added, melting her with the eye-crinkling smile, ‘it would do me a whole lot of good.’

  For answer she tilted her chin in invitation.

  Jake kissed her gently, then took her by surprise by lifting her onto his lap. When she leaned into him instead of struggling to get away he gave a relishing sigh and held her close. But after a moment or two his arms tightened, and heat flared in his eyes, the pupils extending to cover the blue iris. Sarah gazed into them, spellbound, and with a smothered sound he bent his head and kissed her, his tongue caressing hers. She melted against him, responding with such fervour their hearts were thudding in unison when the need for air forced them to separate. Breathing hard, Jake straightened with reluctance and gazed down into her dazed face.

  ‘I was wrong. That did me no good at all.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ she said unevenly. ‘If those are your friendly kisses what are the passionate ones like? Don’t demonstrate!’ she added hastily, then frowned. ‘That’s an unsettling look in your eye. What’s wrong?’

  Jake was silent for a moment, then gave her an oddly bleak smile. ‘I keep wondering about your old pal Nick Morrell.’ He gave her a hard, devouring kiss by way of illustration. ‘Were you on these kind of terms with him?’

  Sarah shook her head vehemently. ‘No. Not like this. Never like this. With anyone.’

  ‘No one at all?’ Jake smoothed the hair away from her forehead, his eyes holding hers.

  ‘I know what you’re asking, Jake.’ She would have slid from his lap, but he held her fast. ‘All right. I’ll tell you just one thing, Jake, on condition we don’t talk about it any more.’ She sat rigid for a moment, then sagged against him, burying her face against his shoulder. ‘Other than my grandmother, no one knows that Davy owes her existence to a single moment of misguided sympathy.’

 

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