Sinful Nights. Penny Jordan
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‘But you told your father that you did.’
‘No. I told him that I was doing. I didn’t mean to, but before I could retract you arrived.’
‘And now?’ He asked the question softly, watching her with eyes that gave nothing of his own feelings away.
‘I’ll have to go through with it—you know that. You saw how he reacted. Dear God, even now I can’t believe that I’m going to lose him.’ She paced distractedly, too strung up to give way to tears and yet needing to release some of her nervous energy.
‘And what about the boyfriend—have you told him?’
‘Alan? No … not yet, but he’s coming up for his car soon, I’ll tell him then.’
‘How soon is soon?’ Blake asked idly. ‘Because in three days’ time we’ll be married.’
Three days! She looked up at him not even attempting to hide her shock. ‘So soon?’
Blake shrugged his shoulders and against her will Sapphire found herself comparing the masculine breadth of them to Alan’s. Even dressed in faded jeans and an old woollen checked shirt Blake possessed a lithe masculine sensuality that Alan would never have, for all his expensive tailoring Alan believed that appearances were important and Sapphire wouldn’t have denied it, but Blake was one of those men who could afford to break life’s rules. Angrily she pushed the thought away.
‘Why wait?’ Blake asked laconically. ‘The sooner it’s done the happier your father will be.’
‘He told me that most people up here don’t even know that we’re divorced.’ Her voice gave away her anger.
‘Most people? No-one knows,’ Blake corrected, blandly.
‘Not even Miranda?’
His eyebrows rose, and Sapphire felt her face flush. What on earth had possessed her to bring Miranda’s name up? She had no interest in Blake’s love life—it was his own affair.
‘Why mention Miranda in particular?’ Blake mocked.
‘Perhaps because it’s the sort of thing a man would tell his mistress,’ Sapphire came back curtly. ‘After all you told her that our marriage … wasn’t consummated.’
‘How do you know that?’ His voice had sharpened, hardened almost, but he had turned slightly away so that Sapphire couldn’t see his expression, but she had definitely caught him off guard. Good, she thought, watching him. Obviously he didn’t know what Miranda had said to her.
‘Because she told me.’ She shrugged disdainfully as he turned round and stared at her with cold hard, golden eyes. ‘It was at the same time as she told me about the weekend the two of you spent in the Cotswolds actually.’ Giving him a cold smile she marched past, heading for the barn door. It would do him good to realise that she wasn’t as naive as he had always believed, but just as she drew level with the door his arm snaked out, his fingers curling painfully round her wrist.
‘And that, of course, was why you left me?’
‘It was one of the reasons—there were others.’ It was her turn to shrug dismissively. ‘But none of that matters now, I merely asked about Miranda so that I could be prepared for any situation that might arise.’
‘She doesn’t know we’re divorced,’ Blake told her. ‘After my experiences with you I decided I preferred the life of a bachelor.’
‘And having a wife tucked away in the background made it all a lot simpler. Yes I can see that. Let me go Blake, I want to go back to the house.’
‘Isn’t there something you’ve forgotten?’
She frowned, glancing uncertainly at him.
‘Loving partners normally part with a kiss,’ he told her mockingly.
‘Maybe they do, but there’s nothing “loving” about our relationship,’ Sapphire snapped. ‘You didn’t want to kiss me four years ago Blake, I can hardly see why you would want to now.’
‘No? Perhaps I want to see how much your London lover has taught you.’ His head bent towards her and Sapphire immediately tensed trying to pull away, but Blake was still gripping her wrist. His free arm fastened round her, his hand on the small of her back forcing her against him.
A mixture of sensations raced through her as the heat of his body imposed itself against her; anger; tension, but most of all a resurgence of a familiar vulnerability she thought she had long ago overcome. The knowledge that she hadn’t, blinded her to everything else. She trembled against Blake, closing her eyes to blot out his mocking smile trying to convince herself that she was wrong; that the panic storming through her came from anger and not from fear.
But what was it she feared? Not Blake. No, herself, she admitted sensing the downward descent of his mouth, and twisting away to avoid it. Not Blake, but herself, her vulnerability towards him; her …
His mouth brushed hers and she tensed. ‘Is that all you’ve learned? Not very good,’ Blake drawled, as his mouth moved from her lips to her ear. His tongue tip explored the delicate shaping of her ear and panic exploded inside her. She mustn’t let him do this to her, she … Another moment and he would be kissing her again and this time … No she wouldn’t let him see that he could evoke a response from her … a response that was really surely nothing more than a conditioned echo of the old feeling she had had for him?
His mouth was feathering across her skin towards her lips. Taking her courage in both hands, Sapphire turned to meet it, willing herself to relax. She had dated several men in London before settling for Alan, and surely she had learned enough technique from them to show Blake that she wasn’t a frightened seventeen-year-old any more.
Forcing herself to ignore the screaming protest of her nerves Sapphire opened her mouth inviting his deeper invasion, teasing him with the tip of her tongue. She actually felt the sudden tension in his muscles, the quickly controlled start of surprise, but her brief advantage was lost as Blake’s arms tightened around her, his mouth taking what she had so recklessly offered, his lips harshly possessive against hers.
If only he had kissed her like this when she was seventeen. The thought surfaced through a whirling jetstream of jumbled emotions, fiercely clamped down as soon as she acknowledged it, and pushed Blake away.
He let her go, watching her with unblinking gold eyes. Almost as though he willed her to do it, Sapphire ran her tongue over the swollen contours of her mouth. ‘Well, well … That was quite something.’
His mouth was wry where she had expected it to be triumphant, because she couldn’t deny to herself that there had been a moment in his arms when she had forgotten everything that lay between them and she had responded to him in a way she had never responded to any other man, but if anything he looked angry.
‘He’s obviously taught you well.’ The comment bordered on the harshly accusatory and coming from anyone else Sapphire would have instantly taken exception to it, but sensing that for some reason she had got under his skin she responded lightly. ‘And very extensively, I’m not seventeen any more Blake.’
‘No, you’re not are you,’ he agreed, ‘so don’t expect me to handle you with kid gloves will you?’
‘I don’t expect you to “handle” me at all Blake—that’s part of our agreement—remember?’
‘Oh I think I’ll be able to, now, but will you?’
He turned on his heel and left before she could speak, and although Sapphire told herself it was relief that made her shake so much that she had to lean against the stairs, in reality she knew that her emotions were far more complex than that.
What had she let herself in for agreeing to remarry Blake? She had always known he must despise her, but the anger she had just seen, so savage and