Sinful Nights(15)

But you can't deny that you responded to me,' Blake pressed softly, watching her, making her feel trapped and tormented.

I can't deny that I responded to your masculinity,' Sapphire agreed in a  face-saving bid  …  I'm a woman now Blake, with all the desires and  needs that that implies.' Heavens was this really her saying this?  Inwardly she was trembling, praying that he wouldn't see through her  pitiful attempt to deny the effect he had on her.

Meaning that you would have responded to any man in the same way?'  Blake asked her sardonically. I don't think so, Sapphire. In fact,  judging by your response to me, there must be something lacking in your  boyfriend's lovemaking. You responded to me as though you were starving  for  … '

Stop it,' Sapphire interrupted his cruel speech. I won't listen to  this, Blake.' She hurried to the barn door, wanting only to escape from  him and the turbulence of her own emotions, completely forgetting the  original purpose of her journey to the barn, until she got back to the  kitchen and found the receiver still on the table. There was no-one at  the other end and so she replaced it, busying herself in the kitchen,  trying to find some balm to her disordered senses in the warm scent of  baking bread that filled the room, but instead only able to remember the  rough sensuality of Blake's mouth on hers; the urgent caress of his  hands on her body; the unashamed arousal of his as he kissed and  caressed her, but no, she mustn't think of these things. She must  concentrate instead of remembering why she was here; how Blake had  trapped her.

She was busily clearing away the remnants of pastry from the table when  Blake walked in, checking on the threshold, frowning slightly as the  warmly rich scent of her baking filled his nostrils. She ought to have  been pleased by the startled expression on his face, but instead all she  could think of was the way his mouth had felt against her own, and it  took an almost physical effort to draw her gaze away from the slightly  moist fullness of his lower lip.

Bread?' he quizzed her, obviously surprised.

Alan liked me to bake it for him,' Sapphire responded, knowing that she  was deliberately invoking Alan's name as though it were a charm which  had the ability to destroy Blake's powerful pull on her senses. Blake's  face hardened immediately, as he strode across the kitchen and picked up  the phone. Watching him punch in a series of numbers, so quickly that  he must know them by heart, Sapphire was pierced by a feeling of  desolation so acute that it terrified her. She mustn't become  emotionally involved with Blake again. She had travelled that road once  and knew all too well where it led; she wasn't going to travel it again.

Her desolation turned to sick pain as she heard him say Miranda's name.  The other woman must have said something because Blake laughed, a deeply  sensual sound that stirred up the tiny hairs on the back of Sapphire's  nape, making her spine tingle.

No, she must have forgotten to give me the message,' Sapphire heard him  say, his eyes hard, his gaze unwavering splintering her with pain as  she turned to face him. Umm  …  well how about dinner tonight? Yes I'll  pick you up.'

Sapphire turned away, Blake was taking Miranda out to dinner? She  glanced at the fridge where the pastry and fillet steak she had  prepared for their evening meal lay, and her mouth compressed in a  bitter line. Hadn't she already learned her lesson?

By the time Blake had replaced the receiver she had decided what she  would do. Let Blake take his  …  mistress out to dinner if he wished, but  she wasn't going to sit at home, moping, waiting for him. She would go  over to Flaws and spend the evening with Mary and her father.

It wasn't until she heard the door close behind Blake that she realised  that she had been holding her breath. Her lungs ached with the strain  she was imposing on them, her body so tense that her muscles were almost  locked.    

 



 

Why on earth had she allowed Blake to kiss and touch her as he had? And  why had she responded to him so  …  so ardently. She didn't love him any  longer; but she still desired him; part of her still felt the old  attraction; that must be the explanation. Like an amputee suffering pain  from a limb that no longer existed she was still experiencing the pangs  of her youthful love for Blake even though that love had long ago died.

SAPPHIRE WAS IN HER ROOM when Blake went out; she had gone there,  deliberately avoiding him, and only emerged once she had heard his car  engine die away.

Despite the fact that the heating was on the house felt slightly  chilly-a sure sign that the threat of bad weather hadn't gone. In the  living room a basket of logs stood on the hearth of the open fire, and  Sapphire glanced longingly at them, acknowledging that it was pointless  lighting a fire just for herself, especially when she didn't intend  staying in. Why, when she knew where Blake had gone; when she knew how  he had manipulated her, did her imagination insist on filling her mind  with pictures of Blake as she had always wanted him to be rather than as  he was; of herself at his side; their children upstairs asleep while  they sat side by side by the warm glow of the fire; happy and content.  Suppressing a sigh Sapphire walked into the kitchen, still redolent with  the fragrance of her newly baked bread. On the table one of her loaves  stood on the breadboard surrounded by crumbs. Blake had obviously cut  himself a slice, and probably given himself indigestion she thought  wryly, touching the still warm loaf.

Knowing that if she remained alone any longer in the house she would  only brood, Sapphire picked up her jacket and headed for the Land Rover.  Spending the evening with her father would stop her thinking about the  past; about useless might-have-beens, she decided firmly, as she swung  herself up into the utilitarian vehicle. She was just about to start the  motor when a sound from the barn stopped her. Tensing she listened,  wondering if she was imagining things, and then she heard it again; the  shrill, unmistakable whinny of a horse in pain.

Blake's mare! But he had told her that the vet had said she probably  wouldn't start to foal for at least twenty-four hours. Frowning Sapphire  glanced towards the barn door, her conscience prodding her to get out  of the Land Rover and go and investigate. She wasn't a stranger to  animal birth; and as she hurried into the barn, snapping on the light,  her experienced eye quickly took in the mare's distressed state and knew  that the vet had been wrong. By the looks of her the mare was already  in labour.

Despite her long years in London old habits reasserted themselves.  Soothing the mare as best she could, Sapphire left her to race back to  the house. To her relief the vet's wife answered the phone almost  immediately. Quickly Sapphire explained the position.

The vet isn't here,' she told Sapphire, but I know where he is. I'll  phone him and let him know the position. I know he'll be with you just  as soon as he can. Are you able to get in touch with Blake?' she asked  worriedly, I know how much he thinks of that mare  …  '

It wasn't hard for Sapphire to find Miranda's telephone number, but she  hesitated before dialling it. As she had half-expected, there was no  answer. She ought to have felt a savage satisfaction that Blake was  being repaid for his duplicity, but all she could feel was a growing  concern for the mare, and concern at her own ability to handle the  situation. The shepherd who might have been able to help was out on the  hills with his flock; her father was far too ill to help and Mary  …  Mary  was a trained nurse, Sapphire remembered excitedly, picking up the  phone again and punching in the numbers quickly.

Mary listened while she explained the situation. I'll be right over,'  she assured Sapphire. The vet may not be long, but it's better to be  safe than sorry. This won't be the first birth I've attended by a long  chalk.'

While she was waiting, more to keep herself busy than anything else  Sapphire boiled water and scalded the buckets, finding carbolic soap,  and a pack of clean, unused rope. If for some reason the foal was turned  the wrong way they might need the rope. Hurriedly she tried to think of  anything else they might need, rushing into the yard when she heard the  sound of a vehicle. To her disappointment it was Mary and not the vet  who alighted from the Range Rover.

You've done well,' she approved as she followed Sapphire into the barn. But where's Blake?'

He had to go out,' Sapphire avoided her eyes. I haven't been able to reach him.'    

 



 

Fortunately Mary was too busy examining the mare to hear the slight hesitation in her voice.

The foal's turned into the breech position,' Mary explained, fulfilling  Sapphire's own fears. I'll try and turn it, can you hold the mare's  head, try and soothe her?'

Her father had once told Sapphire that she had a way with animals, and  Sapphire prayed that he might be right as she softly coaxed the nervous  mare, talking to her in soothing whispers.

This isn't her first foal,' Mary commented, but she's very nervous.'