Reawakened by His Touch

by Penny Jordan

  Once they were away from the men in the kitchen, a little of her anxiety seemed to drop from her, but Sara was still left with the impression that Vanessa considered herself in some way inferior.

  ‘You’re a marvellous cook,’ she praised Sara as she watched her prepare the cooker. ‘I’m afraid I’m worse than useless. Jonas is the domesticated one. I think he only puts up with me out of a misplaced sense of duty—’ she grimaced ruefully. ‘Not that he ever lets me see it. I doubt if there are many women lucky enough to be able to depend on their brother to provide a roof over their heads and a job. Oh, and that reminds me, we’ve still got Miss Betts’s cats and the dog. Jonas said to tell you that you can come and pick them up whenever you’re ready.’

  ‘Jonas has been looking after her animals?’

  Vanessa seemed perplexed by her shock.

  ‘Oh, yes. And he’s been feeding Fred—the donkey.’ She made a face. ‘He used to keep an eye on Miss Betts before she died—but very discreetly, of course. It seems such a shame to think that she and Uncle Henry could have been so happy together. It was just her pride that kept them apart. They were engaged,’ she enlightened Sara, ‘but they had a quarrel—I don’t know what it was about, I doubt if anyone does, and she broke off the engagement. Since neither of them married anyone else, Jonas and I can only suppose that deep down they still loved one another. Poor Jonas: the last thing he wanted was to inherit Uncle Henry’s house. You should have seen the state it was in! Some of the rooms were damp, it needed rewiring—the lot. It had been terribly neglected. The parents thought he would sell. We call them ‘the parents’ because we both have one,’ she elucidated with a shy smile. ‘Jonas’s father married my mother when I was ten and Jonas was fifteen. It was very difficult at first for all of us. My parents were divorced and I bitterly resented anyone else taking my father’s place, and Jonas had lost his mother in a particularly horrific air disaster. Sam…your brother, has told me about his wife and your fiancé, so I know you’ll understand when I say that both Jonas and I hated the thought of someone else taking the place of the parent we had lost. When you add to that the guilt one naturally feels when one discovers the hated step-parent is really a rather nice person, you can imagine the difficult time we gave our natural parents for the first years of their marriage.’ Vanessa smiled. ‘However, we all managed to weather the storm; I think it’s a sign of dawning maturity to be able to accept that one can love a step-parent without being disloyal to the blood parent whose place they’re taking. Jonas was better at adapting than me. He was also very good to me. When he went to Canada after finishing agricultural college, I was devastated. The parents never really expected him to come back. He landed a top job over there, managing a huge farm for a large corporation, and when we heard that he’d inherited the house here we all expected him to put it up for sale.

  ‘It hasn’t been any sinecure for him, making it pay; he’s built up the nursery business from nothing, and the profits he makes on that plus the money he invested from the sale of the remaining farm land just about keeps his head above water, although he says he’ll never be a wealthy man. When I ask him why he dosen’t sell he says that he feels he can’t—that he feels Uncle Henry didn’t leave the property to him to sell but to preserve. Of course the house is lovely, and Jonas has managed to pick up some beautiful antiques for it.’ Vanessa paused to draw breath and flushed a little. ‘I’m sorry if I’m rattling on; I’m too inclined to chatter on like a magpie when I’m nervous. I had quite a bad stammer when my mother married Peter, but he was so gentle and patient with me. Jonas’s father is a botanist and naturalist,’ she added informatively. ‘He and my mother live in a remote cottage in the Fens. I suppose it’s from his father that Jonas inherited his love of the land, although he has a far more dynamic personality than Peter. I take charge of the office work, although Jonas oversees the financial side of things. Do you think you’re going to like living down here?’

  There was just enough wistfulness in her voice to make Sara reply honestly. ‘I’m loving it already,’ she told her with a quick smile. ‘And so is Carly.’

  ‘Carly. I’m looking forward to meeting her. Sam adores her, doesn’t he? Is she very like her mother?’

  ‘No…not really. If anything, she looks more like Sam. She has his personality, too,’ Sara said thoughtfully. ‘I could bring her over with me when I come to collect the animals if you like?’

  ‘Oh yes, please do.’

  The coffee was ready, and, deftly putting it on the ready-prepared tray, Sara headed for the kitchen door, pausing while Vanessa opened it for her.

  In their absence the two men had moved into the sitting-room, and seemed to be deeply engrossed in a discussion about cricket when they walked in. Jonas got up immediately, coming to take the heavy tray from her. His fingers grazed hers briefly, the momentary sensation of skin against skin shocking through her.

  Sara deliberately hung back to pour the coffee, keeping herself outside the general conversation. She didn’t want to talk to Jonas. She didn’t want him in her home, or in her life; she hadn’t wanted to hear what Vanessa had told her about him. She preferred to retain her initial, totally erroneous belief that he was a man she could quite easily despise. It was as though she dared not let herself admit she could have been wrong in any way about him, because in doing so she would in some way make herself vulnerable. But to what?

  It was a question her mind balked against answering.

  As she handed round the coffee cups, she noticed that Vanessa and Sam were sitting close together on the settee, Vanessa listening earnestly while Sam expounded at length about his work.

  ‘Stop boring the poor girl,’ Sara scolded her brother as she gave him his coffee. ‘I’m sure she’s not the slightest bit interested in economics.’

  ‘Oh, I am!’

  As Sara looked at her in surprise, Vanessa flushed and bit her lip.

  ‘What my sister is too modest to tell you,’ drawled Jonas lazily, getting up from his chair and coming across to join them, ‘is that she got a very creditable First herself in Economics. I’m afraid her talents aren’t used to their fullest extent working for me.’ As he spoke, he leaned over and ruffled Vanessa’s blonde hair affectionately, in much the same way as Sam was wont to caress her, Sara recognised.

  Sam himself was eyeing Vanessa in much the same light as a miser discovering a hidden source of gold. His eyes lit up and he put down his coffee untouched.

  ‘I think we’d better leave them to it,’ Jonas murmured against Sara’s ear, as she stepped back from them. ‘Unless of course you’re the type of sister who doesn’t want her brother involved with any female bar herself?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Sara knew she she sounded terse, but his comment made her feel angry. She had never been the slightest bit jealous of Sam’s relationship with Holly, but it was strangely painful to recognise that, unlike her, he seemed ready to put the past behind him and start living again. There had been a very definite glint of male approval in the way he looked at Vanessa.

  ‘Good. Let’s leave them to it then, shall we?’

  His fingers curled round her arm, making her flinch.

  ‘You shouldn’t wear black; it doesn’t suit you,’ he told her carelessly as he drew her inexorably towards the open French window. ‘It’s too funereal.’

  Sara felt the colour drain from her skin, and she shivered in the light breeze from the open door.

  ‘Sam says you’re very keen to start work in the garden. Walk round it with me and tell me what you plan to do.’

  As on the previous two occasions when she had met him, Sara found herself struggling against the formidable male power of his will. Jonas frightened her in a way that had nothing to do with his far greater physical strengh; it was a fear that sprang from the terrible vulnerability she sensed within herself towards him. And yet what was she frightened of? The potent sexual chemistry that existed between them? Of betraying the love she felt for Rick by… By w
hat? Falling in love with Jonas? There was no way that could ever happen; she didn’t even like him—loathed him, in fact.

  ‘I’d rather stay here, if you don’t mind?’

  They were both talking too quietly to be overheared by the absorbed couple on the settee, but nervertheless Jonas swung her slightly away from them as his mouth curled in a brief smile, his teeth white against his tanned skin as he murmured, ‘I don’t mind in the least, but I rather think those two over there might.’

  Puzzled, Sara glanced over to where Vanessa and Sam were sitting.

  ‘If your brother wants to be alone with my sister, he can hardly invite her to walk round the garden with him, can he?’

  Sara felt her skin colour up hotly beneath the implied criticism that she was lacking in tact and intuition. For a moment it struck her that if Sam were genuinely interested in Vanessa and a permanent relationship developed from that interest, her own life would change dramatically. If Sam married again, she could hardly go on living with him.

  Engrossed in her painful thoughts, she was manoeuvred through the door and out on to the patio before she realised what was happening.

  As she tugged her arm away from his grip, her toes, exposed by her flimsy sandals, were caught painfully by the flaking edge of one of the bricks. She lost her balance slightly and would have stumbled if Jonas hadn’t caught her.

  The moment his arms went round her she froze. It was happening again. The moment he touched her she could feel the rivulets of fire building up inside her.

  ‘I don’t know what it is about you,’ he teased against her ear, ‘but every time I get you in my arms…’

  ‘Let go of me…’ Her voice was husky and impassioned, her mind revolting against the thought that her body dared to feel such inappropriate desire.

  ‘How long has it been since the accident?’

  The question caught her off guard, and she had replied before she could stop herself.

  ‘Eighteen months?’ Jonas released her, standing back a little from her so that he could look into her face. ‘And you’re still mourning him, aren’t you?’

  His voice was unexpectedly gentle, filling her with a need to lash out at him. She didn’t want his sympathy.

  ‘I’ll always mourn him,’ she told him bitingly.

  She heard him sigh, his face tightening slightly. He stepped back from her and crouched down on the patio, examining the flaking bricks.

  ‘This will have to come up before the winter, otherwise it will deteriorate even further.’

  ‘Come up?’ Sara was shocked. ‘No… I want it to stay. It’s lovely.’

  ‘It’s crumbling away and it’s dangerous. What would have happened if that had been Sam who stumbled just then?’

  The logical force of his argument couldn’t be denied.

  ‘Nothing lasts for ever,’ he told her curtly, and Sara had the impression he wasn’t merely talking about the bricks. If he was trying to tell her that she couldn’t spend the rest of her life mourning for Rick, he was wrong. She could, and she fully intended to do so.

  A sharp tap on the window startled her and she turned round to discover Vanessa beckoning them inside.

  ‘I think we’ve trespassed on your hospitality long enough for one evening,’ she said warmly to Sara as she and Jonas walked back in. ‘I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed the meal. All three of you must come and eat with us next time, although I can’t promise anything very exciting.’

  It struck Sara quite forcibly that her discussion with Sam had totally eased away nearly all of Vanessa’s earlier uncertainty, and she looked thoughtfully across at her brother, who was smiling affectionately at their blonde visitor.

  A sound from upstairs made Sara frown, ‘That’s Carly,’ she pronounced. ‘She isn’t completely used to her new surroundings yet, and she tends to wake up during the night. I’ll go up and check on her.’

  ‘I’d like to come with you, if I may. That’s if a strange face won’t frighten her?’

  ‘When it’s as pretty as yours?’ Sam teased. ‘Well, I certainly wouldn’t be frightened by waking up to it.’

  The words held a subtle sexuality that made Vanessa’s fair skin flush. Automatically Sara glanced across the room to Jonas, who responded to her by lifting his eyebrows, his mouth curling slightly as though to say, ‘I told you so.’

  ‘No…come on up.’

  Carly was sitting up in bed rubbing her eyes, her hair curling untidily round her head. She beamed a delighted smile at Sara as she opened the door, her eyes rounding slightly as she saw Vanessa.

  ‘My teddy fell off the bed, and I think he’s hurt his head,’ she announced, speaking to Sara but looking at Vanessa.

  Trying to sound severe, Sara teased, ‘Fell off? I think you mean a certain little girl kicked him off in her sleep don’t you?’

  Carly giggled and smiled at Vanessa.

  ‘You’ve got very pretty hair,’ she told her frankly. ‘It’s the same colour as my mummy’s was, isn’t it, Sara?’

  Sara was never quite sure how much Carly remembered of her life before the accident, but she and Sam made it a rule to allow her to talk as freely about her mother as she wished, without encouraging her to do so in any way that was morbid.

  ‘Very similar,’ she said honestly now, ‘although Vanessa’s is more silvery than your mummy’s.’

  ‘It looks like angel hair. I wish mine was that colour.’

  ‘She’s learning early,’ Sara laughed, ruffling her niece’s curly locks.

  ‘Would you like to read me a story?’

  The invitation, offered to Vanessa very much with the air of royalty bestowing a favour on a humble suitor, made Sara smile, but she still said firmly, ‘Vanessa is just going home, and she’s too tired to read to you now.’ She saw Carly’s face start to crumple and offered palliatively, ‘She has invited us to go to her house tomorrow though. She’s been looking after the cats and dog for us.’

  Once again the childish eyes rounded. Vanessa, who had been clutching the retrieved teddy, leaned over the bed and tucked it in alongside Carly.

  As she straightened up, Carly leaned forwards and gave her a noisy kiss. She was always an affectionate child; Sara had encouraged her to be demonstrative. She and Sam had been brought up by parents who loved them very much but who were physically rather remote, and they had both agreed that they didn’t want that for Carly. Watching the delighted pleasure in Vanessa’s eyes as she willingly complied with Carly’s request to be tucked in by her, Sara was glad that the little girl had taken to her, and yet at the same time she was conscious of feeling very much alone, aware that she and Sam were no longer attuned to one another in the way that they had been following the accident.

  On her way downstairs, Vanessa made firm arrangements for the following afternoon. Jonas was waiting in the hall for his sister, and they left almost immediately.

  ‘Nice couple, aren’t they?’ commented Sam as he helped her to wash the coffee cups, adding teasingly, ‘Not a bit in the Wayne Houseley mould at all, is he?’

  ‘I like Vanessa, but he isn’t my type,’ Sara said shortly, feeling the need to expand on her statement when Sam raised his eyebrows a little and frowned. ‘He’s too sure of himself, Sam… Too…’

  ‘Male?’ he supplied rather drily, shocking her with his percipience. He put down the cloth he was using to dry the cups and came over to her, taking hold of her hands in his and turning them over. For several seconds he seemed lost in contemplation of her palms, but when he lifted his head his expression was extremely grave.

  ‘Perhaps now isn’t the time to say so, Sara, but I’m worried about you. Life dealt you a terrible blow when Rick was killed—I know that—but you can’t mourn him for ever, my love. You must learn to love and let go. You’re hanging on to your grief…fostering it almost. You’ve become almost compulsive about it…turned in on yourself too much. You’ve built your life round Carly and me, and that’s not right…not for a girl of your age. You should get
out more.’

  ‘Find someone else?’ Sara’s voice was brittle. Snatching her hands away from him, she turned her back and demanded in a harsh voice. ‘Is that what you’re planning on doing, Sam? Finding someone else to take Holly’s place…or have you already found her?’

  Tears pricked her eyes as she threw down her cloth and fled to her room. What was the matter with her? she asked herself as she curled up in the chair in front of her window. She had just quarrelled bitterly with her brother, something that had never happened before, and why? Because she was fighting like a cornered creature, terrified of the way she could feel her life changing around her, and illogically she blamed those changes on Jonas.

  Downstairs she had said things to Sam that she had no right to say—and had thought worse. She had deliberately tried to make him feel guilty, to insinuate that he had no right to love someone else, that he was betraying Holly in doing so. And that was wrong.

  Uncurling herself from her chair, she went tiredly downstairs and knocked on Sam’s door.

  When he opened it she saw the unhappiness in his eyes, and went straight into his arms.

  ‘Sam, I’m so sorry,’ she choked into his shoulder. ‘I don’t know what got into me; please forgive me.’

  ‘You didn’t say anything to me that I haven’t said to myself since I met Vanessa,’ he told her quietly, making no pretence of not understanding. ‘I know what you’re thinking, Sara. I’ve thought it myself, but it’s taken meeting Vanessa for me to realise what you and I were doing. We’ve lost two people we love very dearly—nothing can change that—but neither of them would want us to spend the rest of our lives refusing to accept and share love with someone else because of that. In their place, would you? Would you honestly want Rick to spend his life alone grieving for you if the positions had been reversed?’

  Would she? Perhaps not, but that didn’t change how she felt. Unlike Sam, she didn’t want to love anyone else. Love meant pain, uncertainty.