LUCY was having a dream. In her dream she was in Saul’s arms, and he was making love to her as he had done before that fatal quarrel. Wherever he touched her skin tiny frissons of pleasure burned along her nerve endings. What he was doing to her was delightful, but she yearned and ached for more. She reached out towards him, wanting to convey with her own touch how much she wanted him. Her fingers touched smooth skin and hard muscle. The layers of sleep parted abruptly, the sensation of flesh and bone beneath her fingers too real to be the product of any mere dream. Panic fluttered inside her as her eyes opened. She was lying in Saul’s arms, the pre-drawn light filtering through the room.
Like a guilty child she snatched her fingers away from his skin, her throat suddenly almost too tight for her to breathe. What was she doing?
In the same instant that she came awake she realised that Saul was completely naked, the fragile silk of her nightdress the only barrier between them. Filled with panic she tried to wriggle away, dreading the thought of him waking up and finding her here in his arms, but the minute she tried to move the arm round her waist tightened, his eyelids opening to reveal darkly glittering and far too alert eyes.
‘Let me go! What are you doing?’ The words tumbled from her lips with feverish panic.
‘You tell me. You were the one who started this,’ he told her mockingly, ‘snuggling up to me like a little kitten begging to be stroked.’
The picture his words were making was too intimate… it made her too vulnerable. Hot colour stormed her skin as she listened to him. Had she really? She swallowed hard and forced herself to meet his eyes.
‘Think I’m lying?’ he asked softly.
Why should he? He didn’t want her, while she…
Numbly she shook her head, and then said huskily, ‘I’m sorry, I…’
‘Don’t be.’ His voice was oddly harsh as he added, ‘I’m still man enough to enjoy having a beautiful woman cuddle up to me—even if she is asleep.’
He was smiling, Lucy realised incredulously, almost laughing in fact, his grey eyes gleaming, not with dislike or contempt, but amusement and… Her breath caught, her throat muscles rigid as she recognised the hot glitter of desire in them.
‘Of course, I’d enjoy it much more if you weren’t wearing this,’ he murmured against her ear, his fingers on the bow-tied shoulder straps of her nightgown.
She really ought to move away from him; she knew that, but he had already untied the bows and her heart was thudding so hard she thought it might well break through her ribs, especially now that his hand was resting against it.
Her tongue touched her dry upper lip as she caught the fevered undertone of arousal hoarsening his voice.
‘Don’t do that!’ He was looking at her mouth, and obediently, as though she had no will of her own, her tongue retreated.
It was like a dream, everything totally unreal, especially the unmistakable tremor in his hands as they locked on her now bare shoulders, his tongue touching the still dry tension of her mouth, stroking, moistening, totally capturing her senses until she moaned softly under her need to feel his mouth against her own, reaching up to tug his head downwards, her fingers curling into the thick tousled hair, her face lifting eagerly towards him as she shuddered beneath the fierce onslaught of his kiss.
Since she was quite well aware that Saul would never, ever kiss her with this starving hunger, there was no need for her to try and rationalise anything. This was not reality; it could not be, and hence there was no need for her to resist or fight it—or to conceal her feelings, her need and love that welled up inside her, finding expression in the trembling softness of her body against his as her lips parted eagerly to the fierce thrust of his tongue.
His hands swept upwards, his fingers gentle on the vulnerable contours of her throat and then fiercely locking in her hair, tightening against her scalp as desire flowed between them fuelled by the hot urgency of their mouths.
Still kissing her, Saul thrust aside the bed-clothes, and instinctively she moved towards him, welcoming the weight of his body against her own, her nipples hardening into taut desire as they pushed protestingly against the fine silk that separated them.
When Saul wrenched his mouth from her own, Lucy felt so totally bereft that she wanted to cry. She reached for him, her hands encountering only the thick silkiness of his hair, her fingers clenching convulsively into his scalp as his head cupped her breast, his mouth tugging feverishly at its swollen crest, too hungry for her to wait until he had pushed aside the fine silk.
Her heart thumped frantically, her body arching in a delirium of remembered pleasure.
‘Lucy.’
His head lay against her breast, the wet silk clinging to her skin. Caught up in the fever of her own arousal Lucy recognised the thick drugging quality of his desire. His voice was raw with it, as unfamiliar to her as the shudders that convulsed his body.
‘I shouldn’t be doing this.’
The words were hoarse with self-imposed restraint, his body hard and aroused against her own. He wanted her, Lucy thought frantically. He did want her, no matter what he might say, and she wanted him. The fact that she could arouse him to physical desire gave her new hope. Perhaps after all something could be salvaged, something made of their marriage. Perhaps if she told him the truth about Neville…
Despite what he had said, he hadn’t moved, and now he bent again towards her body, his lips gently caressing the fullness of her breast, as though unable to resist their temptation. Shivers of pleasure rippled through her, drowning her in waves of fire.
When she could find her breath she gasped achingly, ‘If it’s because of Neville…’
‘Damn Neville!’ Saul swore violently, releasing her. ‘You’re married to me, not him. He doesn’t want you, Lucy. Not the way I do.’ He broke off and added thickly, ‘I was thinking about the baby… The doctor…’
The doctor had in fact tactfully informed her that there was no reason why she should not lead a perfectly normal married life, at least until the later stages of her pregnancy, but it was not this that made Lucy’s eyes widen slowly. Saul had said he wanted her…
‘You want me.’ She repeated the words slowly, savouring them, looking down at him as his head lifted.
‘I know I’m the first man to make love to you, but you’re not that naïve, Lucy,’ he told her roughly. ‘You know damn well what you do to me.’ His glance skimmed the outline of their entwined bodies, and Lucy felt her skin grow hot as it lingered meaningfully on the place where his body throbbed its message of desire and need against her own.
‘Did you really want me before… when you threw me out?’ It was a question that pride should have prevented her from asking, but now the words were out and could not be recalled.
Saul was frowning, moving slightly away from her, so that she instinctively sought to close that tiny gap. Still frowning he let her, watching her eyes close as her body absorbed the pleasure of being close to him.
‘You know I did,’ he said flatly. ‘Do you honestly think I could have made love to you the way I did simply out of…’
‘Revenge? I thought you must have done,’ she said quietly, watching the incredulous disbelief fill his eyes.
‘Revenge?’ His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he said with probing softness, ‘I was half mad with jealousy, Lucy; surely you realised that the moment I mentioned Summers’ name?’
‘No,’ Lucy said slowly, ‘I thought your making love to me must all be part of some plan you’d conceived to punish me for… for everything.’
Frowning, he sat up facing her; the pre-dawn light was fading now and Lucy blinked as he reached out to snap on one of the bedside lamps. Its golden glow encompassed them both, emphasising the deep tan of his skin and the paleness of hers.
‘I think you and I have some talking to do,’ Saul said softly. ‘Just tell me one thing. What does Neville Summers mean to you?’
‘Nothing,’ Lucy told him promptly. ‘I’ve already told you that before. He’s my cousin, and I’m very, very fond of his parents, but I saw Neville as he really is years ago.’ She had said more than she ever intended, but suddenly it didn’t matter what she might betray to Saul; instinct told her that having said so much she might as well go on.
‘When he came to see me that afternoon, to try and blackmail me into giving him some help, my first instinct was to refuse outright, but I knew if I did he wouldn’t tell me any more, whereas if I pretended I would help, I could learn more about his plans.’
‘But when I asked you if you had had any visitors, you denied it,’ Saul reminded her.
‘Because you seemed so worried… I didn’t want to add to your problems. I told you that then.’
‘Yes, you did,’ he agreed sombrely, ‘and I was so caught up in my own destructive jealousy I didn’t know what to believe. All I could think about was that summer and how he had encouraged you to reject me. And how much he had enjoyed it. He knew then that I was attracted to you, Lucy, even if you didn’t. He even taunted me with it.’ He smiled derisively as he saw the disbelief in her eyes. ‘Oh yes, he knew all right.’
‘I thought it might be something like that… that it could be because you were jealous of him that you had… that you rejected me.’
‘You did some pretty definite rejecting of your own,’ Saul reminded her. ‘You let me think you were in league with him against me.’
‘Because I was so hurt that you could… that you could make love to me like that and then reject me. I had to have some means of self-defence.’
‘Lucy…’ He pulled her gently towards him, resting her head against his shoulder. ‘Is it too late for us to start again? To try and build on what we do have? We desire each other.’
‘Desire isn’t love.’ She said it unhappily, unable to look at him.
‘No,’ he agreed after some hesitation. ‘But while one of us loves, surely…’
Lucy stiffened, wrenching herself out of his arms. So all along he had known how she felt about him.
‘All right, I admit I do love you, Saul,’ she agreed, trembling with emotion and temper, ‘but…’
‘Hey, wait a minute. What do you mean, “you admit you love me”?’
‘Exactly what I said,’ she snapped back, hating the smile that curled his mouth and brought glimmering sparks of delight to his eyes. ‘You’ve obviously known all along how I felt, and I…’
He was shaking his head, his smile going. ‘No, Lucy,’ he said seriously, ‘I haven’t known. Why the devil do you think I was so jealous of Neville? So unsure of you? Not because I knew you loved me, for sure.’
‘But you said…’ Her forehead crinkled into a small frown.
‘What I said was, as long as one of us loves… But the one I was referring to was me, not you.’
For several seconds she was stupefied into silence and then she objected shakily,
‘But you can’t love me. You left without a word, and never even tried to get in touch with me. If we hadn’t met by accident at the Manor, you’d…’
‘I’d have torn England apart trying to find you,’ he groaned suddenly, pulling her into his arms, his voice thick and raw with emotion as he told her.
‘I was just setting out for the Dower House that night to see you and apologise when my mother rang. She was in such a panic about Harry, I didn’t dare take the time to talk to you about my jealousy. I wasn’t sure enough of you to think you would readily understand. I’d been shocked by my behaviour—shocked and disgusted, and I knew you would be, too. It wasn’t something that could be put right in a phone call or a letter. I’d hoped to get back sooner than I did, and when I did manage to fly in it was to find that you’d left. It was like a blow in the gut. I took it to mean that you were finished with me… That I’d been right after all and Neville was the one you wanted. I can’t begin to tell you what it did to me to think that all the time I was making love to you, you were wishing it was someone else. It just tore me apart.
‘I swore I didn’t want anything else to do with you, that I was better off without you… but none of it worked. And then, when your uncle got in touch with me to tell me about the baby…’
He saw her start of shock and smiled grimly.
‘Apparently he got my number from Patterson, and he told me everything; everything apart from the fact that you loved me, that is. You were carrying my child… That made you both my responsibility. I knew then what I was going to do. I told myself I was only marrying you because of the baby, but I knew damn well that wasn’t it. It was no accident that I was at the Manor that morning. I’d flown over the night before determined not to let you out of my sight until you’d agreed to marry me. Believe me, Lucy, if it hadn’t been for Harry’s illness you’d have been back in my arms before dawn that morning, hearing how much I loved and wanted you.’
It was said with too much conviction to be a lie, and anyway what would be the point?
‘You really love me?’
She said it uncertainly, like a child promised something so magnificent that it hardly dared believe the promise was real.
‘You’d better believe it,’ Saul told her wryly. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t already heard as much from my mother. I told her a long time ago that I’d found the girl I wanted to spend my life with.’
‘A long time ago?’ Her eyebrows lifted as she teased him. ‘We’ve only known each other a few months.’
‘Correction,’ Saul whispered against her mouth, ‘I knew you twelve years ago.’
He felt the shock of surprise ripple through her body.
‘I fell pretty hard for you that summer, Lucy, and though what I felt faded over the years, it never went away completely. When your father died and I knew I’d inherited, I was in two minds about coming over. I told myself it was safer not to, but I couldn’t forget that all those years ago I’d sensed that beneath the teenage disdain you’d shown me was someone very different. And then I heard from Patterson about what your father had done to the estate, and I told myself I was wrong after all… But still I had to come and find out for myself.’
There would be time later to tell him the truth about Oliver. Right now all she wanted was to be held like this in his arms, his mouth moving with tantalising slowness over her skin, his hands sliding the silk of her nightdress from her body, his earlier urgency gone as he started to make love to her with a slow languor that her body loved.
‘Let’s start again,’ he murmured against her mouth, teasing it with small biting kisses. ‘Right from the moment when we walked into my bedroom.’
He tensed as Lucy shook her head, levering himself away from her body slightly. Her heart jolted against her ribs as she saw the uncertainty in his eyes and knew his vulnerability.
‘If we do that I’ll be losing my most treasured memories,’ she told him softly. ‘Not to mention this.’ She patted her stomach, her breath suspended as she saw his eyes darken and burn with passion.
‘If you say so.’ His voice was thick and slurred. ‘But I’ll give you other memories, Lucy, lots and lots of them.’
‘I thought you were angry because I was a virgin,’ she told him dreamily, gasping softly as his mouth slid down her throat, teasing the tender skin. ‘That you felt it trapped you into a more serious relationship than you’d wanted.’
‘No… If I seemed angry it was because I felt you must really love Summers so much that you hadn’t been able to give yourself to anyone else. I knew he didn’t love you, you see, and I thought you’d decided that I would be as good a substitute as anyone… That when I touched and caressed you, you were thinking of him.’
His mouth had found her breast and was caressing the swollen, wanton peak with a skill that threatened to drive her out of her mind.
Shudders of pleasure rippled through her, languor forgotten in the swift upsurge of desire, her body abandoning restraint as it moved eagerly against Saul’s, inviting his possession.
Later, their bodies sleepily entwined, they talked with the freedom that only lovers know, sleeping and then waking in the brilliant early morning sunlight to make love again.
‘I could stay here like this all day,’ Lucy murmured happily, her lips caressing the smooth skin of his shoulder.
‘I only wish we could.’ Saul’s smile was rueful. ‘I thought by staying with my parents, I was removing myself from temptation. I fully intended to be out of here this morning long before you woke up, but I hadn’t allowed for the effect on my will-power of having you cuddle into my arms and wrap yourself round my body.’
‘Ah, so it’s all my fault is it?’ Lucy teased.
Happiness filled her, making her feel as lightheaded and giddy as a child.
‘It’s always the woman’s fault,’ Saul told her smugly, dodging the mock blow she aimed at him and trapping her in his arms.
* * *
‘Well, well, you’ve surfaced at long last.’
Hand in hand they strolled towards the group sitting by the pool. The woman who had called out to them got up, two toddlers at her side.
‘I do believe you’re blushing, brother dear,’ she said with a grin as she came towards him. ‘Christie, you most definitely do owe me that twenty dollars.’ She had reached them now and her smile for Lucy was warm and slightly mischievous.
‘Lucy, come and tell us all about how you managed to hook this marriage-shy guy,’ she invited her new stepsister-in-law, but it was Saul who answered her, his laconic voice at odds with the slumberous passion in his eyes as he responded, looking at Lucy.
‘Quite simply, my dear sister, it’s called love.’
The way he looked at her made her body tremble and wish they were still alone, but then one of the children piped up shrilly, and the spell was broken; Sophy came forward to lead Lucy to a comfortable chair, Saul went over to talk to Harry and his brothers-in-law.
So began the pattern of her new life, Lucy thought as she sat down, and from it she would weave a warm and protective cloth, but the strongest thread would always be the one linking her to Saul; the thread that represented their love.
‘Tell us all about this Manor,’ Christie invited. ‘We’re all dying to go over and see it.’
Obediently she began to talk, and then, as though responding to something she alone could hear, she turned her head. Saul was smiling at her. She smiled back, knowing that like her he was waiting for the time when they could be alone.
‘Come on you two love birds,’ Christie teased. ‘Break it up, otherwise you’ll be making us old married folks jealous.’
Across the sunlit space Lucy’s eyes met Saul’s, her body quivering in response to the memory of his hands touching it. She loved and was loved in return. Life could hold no gift she would cherish more.