Starting Over

He had been approached to take a potentially fascinating case just before his accident. A young woman was threatening to sue her family for snatching her away from the cult with which she had become involved. Nick had been approached by a friend of the family for his advice.

But it wasn't his work that was on his mind right now. It was Sara!

He was fully aware that his behaviour in the restaurant and more specifically in the restaurant office had been far from exemplary or gentlemanly. It didn't matter that he had been provoked. He still should not have allowed things, matters, to get so out of hand. An apology was quite plainly in order, or so he had reasoned.

IT WAS EARLY afternoon and Frances was just seeing the last lunch-time diner off the premises when he walked in.

'I wonder if I could have a word with Sara?' Nick asked once they had exchanged greetings.

'Oh, I'm sorry, she isn't here at the moment,' Frances told him. 'She's taking a late lunch hour. I insisted that she ought to get out and enjoy this unseasonal sunshine we're having whilst she could. Do you want me to pass on a message?'

Shaking his head Nick left the restaurant. It was true that the weather was mild, sunny and warm. From where he stood he could see the bright light glinting on the river. He paused to study it. Nick had always loved water. His farmhouse was on a hill overlooking the sea off the Pembrokeshire coast.

He didn't own a boat himself but he sometimes crewed for a friend who did. Automatically he started to head for the river.

Sara paused to laugh at the antics of some ducks as they dived into the water for unseen food. Further downstream she had seen some swans, their stately elegant progress so at odds with the frantic paddling that must be going on beneath their gently floating bodies. Like galleons in full sail they seemed to glide effortlessly over the water. Hers was the only human presence here on the river path and Frances had urged her not to rush back.

'I can't believe how much work you've done already. You really are a marvel...I'm so grateful to you,' she had praised Sara. Sara reflected on the telephone call she had taken earlier from the frantically apologetic employment agency explaining they had been let down by the girl they had intended to send to the restaurant. It didn't matter now Sara had told them—the job had been filled. Why had she decided to stay on? She liked Frances yes, but... Unbidden a mental picture of Nick Crighton came into her head.

She was not staying because of him! She loathed him.

He was arrogant, humourless, contemptible—and worse! Angrily she sucked in her breath.

NICK SAW SARA before she saw him. She had her head thrown back as she laughed at the ducks she was watching and her hair was ruffled by the breeze, the sunlight burnishing its rich warmth. She was wearing a soft woollen jumper which the wind had flattened lovingly against the curves of her breasts and Nick felt the immediate primaeval reaction of his body to her femaleness.

She had seen him now, her body stiffening defensively, her expression hostile.

As he reached her she moved to one side of the path, deliberately leaving as much space as she could between them before starting to walk past him.

'Sara...'

As she heard Nick say her name Sara tensed. She wasn't idiotic enough to pretend that she was in shock because a man had kissed her and neither was she going to throw a histrionic fit about it, but she knew that her reaction to him, her awareness of him, was far stronger than anything she had experienced before.

She had guessed from putting two and two together from Frances's comments about him that even by male Crighton standards Nick was something of a rogue card in the family pack. Sara had made no comment when Frances had said that for all that Nick prized his freedom and avoided any kind of permanent involve-ment, once he fell in love all that would change.

'The Crightons are one-woman men,' she had informed Sara, grinning when the younger woman raised a doubting eyebrow and adding, 'Well, at least they are once they've found the right woman....'

'But they enjoy trying out several wrong ones before they do find her,' Sara suggested cynically.

She considered that her own sexual experience was about average for a woman of her age and her background but she was forced to admit that what she had felt when Nick had kissed her was something way outside that experience. It was also something that made her feel extremely wary about allowing it to happen again.

Nick was 'man trouble' with a capital T, and man trouble was the last thing she wanted in her life. She was enjoying her freedom and enjoying, too, the lim-itless possibilities that lay ahead of her. She did not want to become involved with any man, but most especially a Crighton man.

'Sara...wait!' Nick insisted.

Warily Sara did so.

'I feel I owe you an apology....'

'Another one?' Sara queried coolly.

Immediately she realised that she had said the wrong thing. The dark tide of colour beneath his skin wasn't embarrassment; it was anger she recognised.

'Oh, for God's sake,' he ground out. 'This is ridiculous. Look, let's not beat about the bush, shall we?

Both of us are adults, both of us know what's happening... what's happened, but right now, right now I'm not in the market for a relationship—of any kind.'

Sara stared at him. His directness stunned her and for a minute she was tempted to retreat into convention and pretend that she didn't know what he meant. But she was too busy trying to ignore that small sharp stab of disappointment his words had brought her.

To counteract it she took a deep breath and told him quickly, 'Well, that's just as well because I'm not in a position to have one,' she lied. 'In fact...' She looked expressively at her ring finger whilst a part of her brain looked on in shocked disapproval at what she was doing and saying. Recklessly she ignored it; the fierce flood of danger and excitement pouring through her veins was fuelling an unfamiliar rebellion.

'You're married,' Nick demanded, obviously shocked.

'No...' Sara admitted. 'Not yet...'

What on earth was she doing? But it was too late to recall her words. Nick was already insisting, 'But there is someone...'

'Yes,' she fibbed, crossing her fingers supersti-tiously behind her back.

'I see.' Furiously Nick fought against his own feelings. The anger, the sharp sense of possessiveness, the desire to remove whatever man there was already in her life with force if necessary. His feelings were totally ridiculous, he knew, totally irrational.

He paused and then frowned, remembering something.

'Tell me, what did you mean by that remark you made about Crighton men never apologising?'

Sara shrugged. There was no point in lying or concealing the truth. Why should she?

'My grandfather is married to the ex-wife of David Crighton.'

'What?' Nick looked puzzled for a moment but then his frown lifted.

'You mean Olivia and Jack's mother...Tiggy...

Tania...' He groped for the vaguely remembered name.

'Tania. That's right,' Sara confirmed coolly.

'But she...' Nick began, remembering what he had heard on the family grapevine.

'She what?' Sara demanded sharply.

Nick shook his head. He had no way of knowing just how much Sara knew about Tania's past.

When she realised that he wasn't going to say any more Sara started to walk away from him. She had only taken a couple of steps when she heard him saying from behind her, 'What's his name?'

'Whose name?' she asked in bewilderment, turning round.

'The man,' Nick told her softly.

'The man?' The penny dropped and frantically Sara searched for a suitably impressive macho type male name whilst Nick watched her. A sudden suspicion had come to him.

'There isn't any man, is there?' he challenged her softly.

Sara stared at him for once lost for words. She could feel the hot betraying colour staining her skin.

'Why did you lie about him, Sara?' Nick asked her even more softly.

/> Sara shook her head. His perception had totally unnerved her.

'I—I don't know....'

'Oh, yes, you do,' Nick corrected her. 'It was because of this, wasn't it?'

Before she could stop him he had taken her in his arms and was kissing her with the same relendess sensuality she had felt before.

She fought not to react to him but every tissue in her body was swamped with the intensity of her response. She could feel his arousal against her body and knew that her own flesh was just as sexually eager as his. It was as though he held an awesome fascination for her which she had no way of controlling or resisting.

Her body burned with heat and excitement and a wild reckless urgency that was totally unfamiliar and totally insane. Without the control of her mind she knew her body would have been perfectly willing for Nick to lie her down right here where they were and complete what he had started in the most intimate and intense way there was.