‘Sam?’
The expression of hostility and bitterness in his eyes would have frightened her if she hadn’t been so angry with him.
‘Is it so unbelievable that he might want Vanessa to himself? Think about it; the way he is at the moment he can hardly invite her out. They haven’t had much opportunity to be alone together. You guard him like a mother hen with one chick.’
His use of the word ‘guard’ and the sardonic expression in his eyes galled her. Her mouth compressing, Sara was just about to refuse for a second time when she remembered what Sam had said to her about Vanessa. Jonas was right, Sam would welcome an opportunity to have Vanessa to himself, and it was hardly fair of her to deny it to him simply because Jonas had been the one to point it out to her.
‘I can’t go out to dinner dressed like this!’ she pointed out to him.
He shrugged powerful shoulders. ‘So you need to go home and get changed. I’ll pick you up in an hour.’
She didn’t want to go out to dinner with him, but it suddenly struck her that he was giving her the ideal opportunity to tell him how little she welcomed his advances. At least in the civilisation of a restaurant, surrounded by other people, she would safely be able to tell him that she wanted him to leave her alone.
‘All right.’
She watched as he grimaced, his voice rough as he told her, ‘Don’t overtax yourself in showing enthusiasm, will you? And don’t try backing out.’ he added softly as he walked with her to her car. ‘Because I’m perfectly capable of making sure you go through with it.’
Sara didn’t doubt it.
Vanessa showed a remarkable lack of suprise when she announced that she was dining with Jonas, and it struck her that perhaps the whole thing had been arranged between brother and sister beforehand. It seemed unlike Vanessa to involve herself in anything in the slightest way underhand, but if she was in love with Sam, wasn’t it only natural that she should want to snatch at any opportunity to be alone with him? Strangely, the fact that Jonas might genuinely be taking her out merely to facilitate his sister’s relationship with her brother was not the relief it should have been.
To punish herself for her weakness, she deliberately changed into the dress she had bought for Rick’s annual office ‘do’. It had never been worn because Rick had been killed before the dinner dance took place, and now, as she removed it from its protective wrapping, Sara shuddered slightly, suddenly realising that for the first time, when she thought about Rick, his mental image had not automatically formed in her mind. In fact, when she tried to conjure up his familiar features they stubbornly refused to appear, and she rushed in panic to her dressing table to snatch up his photograph.
The sight of his familiar smile eased her tension. Holding the photograph in front of her, she felt her breathing ease and her heartbeat slow down.
Knowing that if she wasn’t ready on time Jonas was perfectly capable of coming upstairs to discover why, she showered and changed in almost record time. She was just putting the final touches to her make-up when she heard a car outside.
‘Jonas is here,’ Vanessa called up to her.
‘I’m coming down now.’
Pulling a brush through her hair, she snatched up her bag and hurried to the door. A glimpse of herself in her full-length mirror threw back a reflection that was startingly unfamiliar. It had been so long since she had even thought of dressing up that the sight of herself made her check and stare.
She had always been a slim girl, but not all of the weight she had lost in the first few weeks after the accident had been regained, and the dress, which had fitted snugly when she had bought it, was now just loose enough to hint at a delicate fragility. The long sleeves ended in tight cuffs which seemed to emphasise the narrowness of her wrist bones. The bodice of the dress was cut high on her throat at the front, dipping very low at the back to expose her skin. The silky-fine fabric hugged her waist, flaring out gently over her hips. The neckline and low back were etched in a deep band of satin, like the wrist bands and at the back of her neck the dress fastened in an ornamental satin bow.
Its misty lilac colour seemed to emphasise the delicacy of her skin, turning her eyes from blue to amethyst, and imparting a deeper lustre to her hair.
It was a dress that a woman bought with a man very much in mind, and that she should be wearing it tonight for Jonas and not Rick, tore at her heart with sharp knives of anguish—all the more intense because she recognised that one treacherous part of her did want to dress for Jonas, no matter how much her heart and mind might resent it.
Vanessa was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, her face lighting up in an appreciative expression when she saw her.
‘Jonas, just wait until you see this!’ she called out gaily to her brother.
A choking panicky feeling closed up Sara’s throat as she recognised that Vanessa was openly hinting that Jonas would find her sexually desirable. It was on the tip of her tongue to announce that she had changed her mind, but as Jonas appeared in the doorway to the sitting-room and studied her with a steel-grey glint in his eyes, Sara knew that any attempt on her part to extricate herself from their date would meet with very severe resistance.
It was for Sam’s sake that she was doing this, she reminded herself as she allowed Jonas to hand her into his car.
To see a Rolls-Royce outside the door, even if rather an old one, was not what she had expected, and it was Vanessa who, correctly reading her surprise, laughed and said bubblingly, ‘It belonged to Jonas’s uncle, and it had done such a small mileage and had been so carefully looked after that it seemed a waste to ger rid of it. I think it suits him, although Jonas prefers his Land Rover.’
‘It does have its advantages,’ drawled Jonas, interrupting his sister.
‘Yes, it’s got seats that recline—unlike the Land Rover,’ Vanessa teased, and even though Sara knew her remark had been directed at Jonas rather than herself, she could not help her skin going hot with betraying colour as Jonas helped her into the luxurious car.
As he closed her door, the rich smell of the leather upholstery engulfed her, and she could not resist stroking an appreciative finger along the burr-walnut panelling.
Even with her eyes averted, she was aware of the exact moment Jonas slid into the driver’s seat. His door closed with a dull thunk, and he switched on the engine.
There was a moment’s delay while he fastened his seat belt,