Desire For Revenge Part 9

She moved experimentally and, holding her breath, managed to wriggle safely away from her sleeping companion without waking him. As she s.h.i.+vered in the cold of the room she became conscious of aches and sensations in her body that were wholly unfamiliar. Dark colour crept up under her skin as she visualised the events of the evening.

Hurriedly she pulled on her clothes, trying not to make any noise. By turning her dress back to front she managed to secure all the lower fastenings, and with a struggle managed to secure enough of the upper ones to at least make herself look decent.

She had no idea what time it was, and daredn't risk waking Joss by looking for his watch, but it was still dark outside. As she finished dressing with feverish haste and then hurried to the bedroom door, she saw Joss stir, frowning deeply in his sleep. She held her breath until his movements stilled again, dreading his waking. It was best this way, she told herself as she opened the door and hurried downstairs.

What had happened between them was already taking on a dreamlike quality. That it had not been a dream she was in no doubt about, but it was something so outside her normal experience of life and it seemed safer to hide it away completely. Even now she could hardly bear to think about the strength of the feelings he had aroused within her. As she let herself out into the darkened street, she s.h.i.+vered in the cold predawn breeze. Thank G.o.d the cottage was within walking distance of Jane and Ralph's, although G.o.d alone knew what Jane was going to say when she got back.

There were no lights on in her sister's house, and no one stirred as she used her key to let herself in.

In her bedroom she undressed and then slid into bed without showering, not wanting to disturb anyone.

Even now she could scarcely believe what had happened. That she and a man who was a complete stranger had been lovers in the most intimate and pa.s.sionate sense of the word. A rather wry smile curled her mouth as she lay in bed. At least now she would not have any more problems with David Randal. She almost laughed as she remembered Jane's advice to her to lid herself of her virginity. Then she had never imagined herself doing so, and certainly not in such a bizzare and out of character manner.

CHAPTER FOUR.

'come on, sleepyhead, wake up. "

Jane's familiar voice pierced through the clouds of sleep engulfing her, and Sarah frowned. There was something wrong about where she was, something missing. She flushed brilliantly as she realised what, or rather who it was, a fact which did not escape her sister's alert attention.

"Well," Jane asked wryly, 'and where did you get to last night, or is it a state secret? "

"Only sort of." Sarah sat up in bed, grimacing faintly as her muscles protested She picked up me cup of tea Jane had poured for her and wrapped her hands round it, warming their coldness.

"You could say that I took your advice, regarding my problem with David Randal," she told Jane lightly, and then added in a shaky voice.

"Or I could say that I behaved in a way so totally out of character that even now I can't believe what actually happened."

"Oh, what " actually did happen"?" Jane enquired, watching her.

"Or is that a question a sister isn't allowed to ask?"

"I went home with a man I met at the dance," Sarah told her slowly.

"We made love..." Her eyes met her sister's.

"I wanted to. not just because of what we were saying the other day. I wanted him Jane almost desperately."

"Well, I'm very glad to hear it," Jane said firmly.

"Who is he? Where does he live?"

Sarah put down her cup and looked down at the bedspread before replying.

"I only know his first name," she told Jane in a low voice, stopping her before she could speak.

"That was all I wanted to know.

I left last night while he was still asleep. The way he made me feel frightened me, Jane. I don't want to get involved. "

"You don't want to get involved, and yet you went to bed with him?

Just how much more "involved" is there? " Jane demanded drily.

"I'm talking about involved as in emotionally involved," Sarah told her. She moved restlessly in the bed, and then said tiredly, "I don't want to talk about it, Jane ... if you don't mind."

Her sister got up and shrugged good naturedly.

"Well, you're over twenty-one and free to make your own decisions ...

but I hope you realise that your, er ... partner in this little adventure, might not be as happy with a one-night stand and then a complete disappearing act as you are yourself."

That thought had struck Sarah, but she was convinced that once he realised she had gone and did not intend to come back Joss would put her out of his mind. After all, he was an exceptionally attractive man, and one whose s.e.xual experience could be in no doubt. There would be no shortage of women ready and willing to take her place in his bed.

Who knew, it was more than likely that in the cold light of day he would be relieved to discover that she had gone. She daren't question too deeply why she should find that thought so depressing. The same fear she had experienced on first seeing Joss came back now to haunt her. it was impossible for anyone to fall irrevocably in love on so short an acquaintance she told herself firmly, and then s.h.i.+vered. In love? What on earth was she thinking of? What had happened last night had been the result of sheer physical chemistry, nothing more.

It was over . finished. This afternoon she would be going back to London and her life there.

Ralph, tactful as always, made no comment about her disappearance, simply chatting over lunch about how pleased he was to have secured the new contract. When Sarah eventually left half way through the afternoon she felt as though she had restored some much-needed normality to her life. Indeed as she drove away from her sister's home, it seemed almost possible to convince herself that last night had never happened.

And that was the way it should be, she told herself firmly as her train carried her towards London. She had been privileged to share with another human being what for her had been a unique experience, and one, moreover, that would help to banish from her life David's unwanted attentions. Probably the main reason she had been so responsive to Joss was quite simply that at the back of her mind had been the knowledge that she was better off without her virginity. But somehow it was impossible to convince herself of this sensible explanation.

Deep down Sarah knew quite well that the practical aspects of ridding herself of her virginity had been the last thing to motivate her, but it was too dangerous to admit the truth, too potentially painful to allow herself to remember the sensations Joss had helped her to experience, the pleasure he had given her. Determinedly she blanked out every single thought of him that tried to get past her de fences

The best thing to do was to forget that last night had ever happened.

It was with that praiseworthy intention in mind that Sarah stepped into her office on Monday morning. The weekend was behind her now and so was everything which had happened during it. The arrival of a ma.n.u.script from one of her favourite authors helped her in this resolve. Sylvia Thomton was an enchanting seventy-odd-year- old who wrote delicate witty novels whose closest comparison must be those of Jane Austen and Sarah settled down with enthusiasm to read through her new ma.n.u.script.

She had barely got through the first chapter when her 'phone rang.

Frowning slightly because she had asked her secretary not to put any calls through, Sarah picked up the receiver.

Steven Holland was on the other end of the line.

"Sarah, are you free for lunch?"

When she replied in the affirmative Steven said, "Excellent. Come to my office when you're ready, will you?"

Feeling rather surprised, Sarah put down the receiver, glanced at her watch and discovered that it was close enough to one o'clock for her to lose no time in obeying Steven's request.

A quick check in the mirror in the ladies' rea.s.sured her that her appearance looked firmly businesslike. The suit she was wearing was neatly tailored, the soft peach colour a pleasant foil for her colouring. A tortoisesh.e.l.l comb helped to keep her chignon in place, and after an application of lip gloss she felt ready to face her boss.

There was no one in the outer office when Sarah stepped into it, Steven's door was slightly open and she could hear him speaking to someone through it. She tapped on the door and waited. Steven opened it himself, beaming warmly at her as he ushered her into his office.

"Sarah, my dear, I'd like you to meet Joshua Howard. As you know he's taking James Richards' place... Joshua, I'd like you to meet our Women's Fiction Editor here at Leichner & Holland, Sarah French."

As though she were an observer, standing outside her own body and watching the whole tableau, Sarah watched the tall dark man sitting in the chair opposite Steven's desk, get easily to his feet. The blood drained from her face in an instant of blinding recognition which she knew he shared, but more horrifying by far than the realisation that Joshua Howard, her new boss, and "Joss', her lover, were one and the same person was the knowledge that it was not shock or fear which had been her immediate emotional reaction to the sight of him, but sheer and very intense pleasure. In fact it had taken an immense amount of willpower not to give in to the mad impulse to run up to him, to...

Terrified by her own reaction Sarah looked blindly towards the window, willing herself to wake up from what could only be the very worst kind of nightmare, but no, it was real enough. She could hear Steven burbling away happily in the background, words such as " I'm sure the two of you will hit it off. Sarah is an excellent worker. " impinging distantly on her consciousness, while overwhelming and overpowering everything else was her immediate and intense awareness of Joshua Howard as a man. Even without looking at him, even without going anywhere near him, she knew him, she thought fatalistically. Her body seemed to have some deep and hidden means of recognising him, and of registering that recognition to her. All the fears she had subdued on the fatal night of the ball now returned to crowd and oppress her and the reality of them was far worse than her imaginings. She closed her eyes momentarily to block out the sight of him, and instantly realised it was a mistake. Instantly she saw him not as he now was, but as he had been ... as her lover... " Sarah and I have already met. "

The cool, confident claim made her eyes fly open and then desperately seek his. He was regarding her with a hard awareness that made her skin burn as she remembered how stealthily she had crept away from him in the darkness of the pre-dawn. His expression told her that he had not forgotten it and that he fully intended to demand an explanation of it.

"Oh?" Steven looked only faintly curious.