Oh hell, she cursed with utter dejection. Maybe if she went to bed, sleep would provide a blissful oblivion. A glance at her watch revealed that it was only nine o'clock, but the long drive had tired her, and with a sigh she rose to her feet and made for the bathroom.
After a leisurely shower she donned her nightgown and slid in between the sheets of the comfortable-looking bed, then she raised her hand and extinguished the bedlamp.
The night was long and lonely, and although Sara knew she must have slipped into a fitful doze from time to time, she rose in the morning hardly aware of having slept at all.
One filing emerged clearly from those wakeful hours: she loved Rafael. Only love could be responsible for this endless aching need that was almost an obsession. He was the other half of her, and she knew that without him she might as well not be alive.
The decision to go back was made without conscious thought, and after a hasty cup of coffee and a slice of toast Sara slid her nightgown into her overnight bag and deposited it in the car. She was on the road by nine, and as she covered the miles her heart seemed to soar and take flight. Already she was planning how she would surprise him. Without any unforeseen delay she should reach Southport by midday, and a light smile curved her lips as she imagined his reaction when she walked into his office and invited him to take her to lunch.
Just past Murwillumba there was a build-up of traffic and Sara slowed the Porsche to slip in behind the car ahead.
What happened next remained a blur. She felt and heard simultaneously a sickening thud, and she was flung forward before she could steel herself to prevent it, then there was nothing.
Vaguely in the distance she could hear the wail of sirens, and through the mists of unconsciousness she was aware of voices, hands that freed and lifted her, a sensation of pain, and a delicious floating feeling.
When at last she regained consciousness it was to see an unknown face smiling down on her, and as her eyes slowly adjusted she saw the neat white uniform and heard the pleasant voice say briskly, 'You've decided to wake at last. How do you feel?'
'I'm still floating,' Sara found herself saying, discovering that she felt very delicate indeed. 'Am I hurt? I don't feel as if I am, yet I don't think I could get out of bed.'
'Doctor will be in to see you in a minute. He'll discuss the extent of your injuries with you then. In the meantime, I'll give you an injection which will make you feel rather drowsy. Just press this button if you need me,' the nurse said kindly, reaching out and placing an electric buzzer on the bed beside Sara's hand.
The doctor was far more forthright. 'A bump on the head which will probably ache abominably over the next few days. Aside from that, a few lacerations and a cracked rib. You're a very lucky young woman, Mrs Savalje. It could have been a lot worse.'
'You know my name?' Her eyes flew wide, and he smiled.
'Your husband has been here for the past few hours. He's waiting outside to see you.'
Rafael—here? Her face paled slightly, and his eyes narrowed in thoughtful speculation.
'Do you want me to tell him to return in the morning?'
Sara moved her head in negation, then winced as pain shot ingloriously from her forehead through to the base of her skull. 'No, of course not.'
With a slight nod the young doctor turned on his heel and strode quickly from the room, and in a moment of blind panic Sara closed her eyes in the hope that all this was a bad dream.
'Hello, Sara.'
That deep drawl was achingly familiar, and real. Her eyelids slowly flickered open, and she-regarded him with unblinking solemnity, acknowledging cautiously, 'Rafael.'
There was nothing she could tell from his enigmatic expression, and her eyes widened slightly as he moved towards her from the lower end of the bed. In the need to say something—anything, she let the words pour out in a breathless rush. 'The Porsche—I hope it isn't too badly damaged. It—'
Her words were effectively silenced as his mouth closed over hers.
'Shut up, you little fool,' he muttered huskily seconds later. 'I don't give a damn about the car.'
Her ribs hurt as her breathing quickened, and her eyes widened immeasurably as he sat down cm the edge of the bed beside her.
'It wasn't my fault,' she offered shakily, becoming caught up in the spell of him.
'Oh, Sara,' Rafael shook his head wryly. 'What am I to do with you?'
A convulsive gulp momentarily choked her. 'You'd have done better not to have married me.'
Without a word he reached out and trailed his fingers gently down her cheek. 'You think so?'
To her utter consternation she felt her eyes filling with tears. 'Oh damn,' she cursed shakily.
'Don't cry, querida,' he chided softly. 'Otherwise the good nurses will imagine you find my visit upsetting, and I'll be asked to leave.'
'Perhaps you'd better, anyway,' Sara said wretchedly. 'I don't feel myself at all.'
'You've been wandering in and out of consciousness for several hours,' Rafael revealed with a strangely taut smile, and he rose to his feet to tower over her. 'Rest easy, pequeňa.' His eyes darkened with an indefinable emotion. 'I'll be here if you need me.' He leaned down and brushed her cheek with his lips, then straightening he turned and walked to the door.
Things were hazy after that as she drifted in and out of sleep, waking once during the evening to sip a cooling drink before slipping once again into a deep dreamless sleep. At some stage of the night or early morning she woke in darkness, sure that she had cried out. The soft pad of feet and the rustle of a, uniform testified that she had, and she felt the prick of a needle and heard a few soothing words before everything became obscured in a dark grey void. x
Sara woke in the morning to the sound of breakfast trolleys and the general bustle of hospital activity. Sun streamed in through partially shuttered louvre blinds, and she slid up to sit leaning against her pillows, conscious that although her head still-ached, the woolliness that had been evident was now mercifully gone.
The door swung open and a figure swept in and adjusted the blinds. 'Ah, you are awake. How do you feel?'
'Better,' Sara smiled gingerly, extending her wrist to have her pulse taken.
'Hm, yes, I think you are,' the nurse declared with customary briskness. 'Doctor will be in shortly.' She shook down a thermometer and slipped it beneath Sara's tongue. 'Headache less painful?'
Sara gave a slight indicative nod, and moments later the nurse took the glass tube from her mouth to record its reading on to a chart.
'There'll be a cup of tea for you in a minute.' With a brief smile the nurse turned and left.
Mid-morning brought the arrival of flowers—huge bunched arrangements in a glorious assortment of colours, and as the cellophane was unwrapped from each and vases found, Sara became something of a personage among the nurses. She read the accompanying cards; two were from Selina, one from Silvia, and the rest bore Rafael's bold signature.
Afternoon visiting hours heralded the arrival of Selina accompanied by Rafael, and Sara eyed the small package he dropped on to her lap with mixed pleasure.
'What is it?'
His smile was totally without mockery, and she felt her eyes widen at the lambent warmth evident in those dark eyes as they regarded her with quizzical amusement. 'Open it and see for yourself.'
Her fingers were faintly shaky as they undid the wrapping, and she sprang open the flat jeweller's box to reveal an obviously expensive gold medallion on a fine gold chain. 'St Christopher!' Her exclamation brought an answering chuckle.
'Wear it, querida,' he directed gently, moving forward to extract it from its box, and unclasping the fastening he brushed aside her hair and placed it round her neck.
Sara felt a tingle where his fingers touched against her skin, and his close proximity made breathing difficult. The clean male smell of him plus an elusive tang of aftershave was intoxicating, and in that moment she longed to feel his mouth on hers.
At that precise moment his eyes
caught hers, and her lips parted in wistful expectation as she murmured her thanks. Then without thought she raised her hands and slipped them round his neck, pulling his head down so she could kiss him.
It was a shy tentative gesture, and as she drew back there was a quizzical gleam in the depths of his dark eyes.
On a long chain the medallion rested in the valley between her breasts, and she glanced at it before raising her eyes to meet his. 'It's beautiful.'
'I agree.' Rafael was looking at her, his meaning unmistakable, and there was no way she could hide the faint blush that rose to her cheeks.
'Thank you for the flowers,' Sara said quietly, moving her gaze to include Selina. 'They're lovely.' A slight smile curved her lips. 'I'm being spoilt.'
'You gave us all a nasty fright,' Selina told her,' and she suppressed a shudder. 'Rafael summoned specialists from as far away as Sydney, and he never left the hospital until this morning.'
'Specialists? But all I had was a cracked rib and a bruise on my head,' she said incredulously, then doubt clouded her features as she queried, 'This is the main public hospital, isn't it?' . 'I'm afraid not,' her mother said gently. 'Rafael insisted you receive the best possible medical attention.'
'I see,' Sara said faintly. 'When am I allowed to go home?'
'In a few days,' Rafael told her. 'We'll leave it up to the good doctor to decide.'
Those few days seemed to pass very slowly, despite the fact Sara had visitors both afternoon and evening. Even more flowers arrived, and her room began to look like an exotic glasshouse, so that one nurse was known to say jokingly that they had to look hard to find her among them all.
Rafael called in more than once each day, and was always there during the evening. His presence caused more than a flutter among the nurses, and his dedicated attendance was the subject of many sighs and wistful glances.
Ana was permitted to visit on Friday evening, having returned that afternoon from a week at summer camp, and her eyes were almost as round as saucers as she came into the room.
'Oh, Sara,' she breathed in a voice little above a whisper, 'are you really all right?'
Sara felt her, heart turn over at the concern in the little girl's voice, and she smiled and held out her hand. 'Really,' she assured her. 'I can't be squeezed for a while, that's all.'
Ana moved forward and her mouthy began to quiver as she looked at the exposed wound on Sara's forehead. 'Does it hurt?'
'Not now,' Sara said gently. 'It's turning all colours of the rainbow, and I may have to buy some eyeshadow to match it,' she finished with a smile.
'It was just as well you were wearing your safety-belt,' the little girl declared gravely. 'When are you coming home?'
'Tomorrow,' Rafael told her laconically, and he leant over to bestow a light kiss to Sara's cheek. . 'Papa, why didn't you tell me?' Ana clapped her hands and a huge smile lit her features. 'Clara and Tomas will be pleased. So will Grandmama.'
'We'll all be relieved to have Sara home where she belongs,' he said quietly, and Sara had to glance away from his dark penetrating gaze.
'Tell me about your school trip,' she invited Ana, who at once related every exciting detail with the enthusiasm of the very young.
'I have lots of samples and notes,' Ana finished. 'I'll show them to you tomorrow.' 'I'll look forward to it,' Sara said solemnly. 'Well, pequeňa, we shall get away, hm?' Rafael directed, and reaching out a hand he ruffled her shiny black hair. 'It won't do to overtire Sara.'
His kiss was brief, yet gentle, and left Sara feeling strangely bereft. For the first time since the accident she slept badly, and in the morning she woke feeling as if she hadn't slept at all.
When Rafael arrived at ten, Sara was dressed and waiting for him. The doctor had already been and formally discharged her, giving her a prescription in case the headaches should recur, and had added the admonition that if they were at all severe or lasted more than a few hours she must get in touch with him at once.
'Are you ready?'
Sara stood to her feet and proffered a slight smile. 'Yes. You didn't bring Ana with you?'
Rafael bent down and caught up her suitcase. 'I thought it best if she waited at home.'
In the car Sara was quiet—subdued was a better word for it, she thought wryly. More than once she began to say something, then halted before the words found voice, sure that it would sound inane and contrived. However, the silence was enervating, and in a fit of desperation she said, 'How's the Porsche—is the damage severe?'
'That's the least of my worries, Sara,' Rafael drawled lazily, taking his eyes from the road momentarily to shoot her a penetrating glance.
'You've been very kind these past few days,' she told him carefully. Thank you.'
'What did you expect, querida?' he slanted sardonically. 'A tyrannical raging bull?'
She was helpless in controlling the smile that rose to her lips. 'You have been exactly that on occasion.'
'While you, of course, have been an example of docility, eh?'
'We come from different backgrounds, Rafael,' Sara said with a degree of sadness. 'And if I lived for Another hundred years, I could never match your particular brand of sophistication. Sometimes I think you were born having lived another life to the utmost extent.'
'And that bothers you?'
'Only that I must seem gauche and naive by comparison.'
'Oh, Sara,' he mocked gently, 'you are in a state of confusion, aren't you?'
Suddenly brave, she ventured, 'That's why I went away.'
'It was the method you employed I can't be expected to condone.'
'You were angry,' she stated unnecessarily, and glimpsed his, grim smile.
'Really, querida, did you expect me not to be?'
'No, I suppose not,' Sara agreed in a small voice, and very close to tears, she turned and gazed out the window, trying valiantly to take interest in the swiftly passing scenery.
'Dios!' The angry oath escaped his lips in a husky growl. 'Your timing is bad, Sara,' he bit out emotively. 'In the midst of traffic on the main highway you want an emotional blow-by-blow account of my feelings in the matter?'
'I'm sorry,' she whispered disconsolately, and winced against his string of Spanish epithets.
'We need to talk,' he declared with great restraint. 'But this is neither the time nor the place.'
'I'm sorry,' Sara repeated, and flinched at the look he threw in her direction.
'Dear God, if you so much as apologise once more, I swear I won't be held responsible for my actions!'
Silence was obviously the safest course, and Sara refrained from uttering so much as another word for what remained of the drive home.
CHAPTER TEN
Sara's arrival at the elegant mansion was greeted with unsolicited enthusiasm from Ana and Silvia, both of whom had obviously been hovering at a nearby window, from the speed in which the front door opened the instant the Lamborghini drew to a halt at the head of the sweeping driveway.
Amidst laughter and a few tears Sara was ushered inside, and, safely ensconced on a comfortable chair in the lounge, she gave every appearance of being relaxed as Clara wheeled in a portable trolley on which reposed a delicious array of cakes and savouries, together with a pot containing hot steaming coffee.
Thanks to Silvia and Ana there was little opportunity for a lull in conversation, and when the leisurely morning tea was over Rafael regretfully took his leave, bidding Sara a stem admonition to rest and not over-exert herself. His parting kiss had just the right degree of warmth, but Sara was all too aware that the gesture was solely for Silvia and Ana's benefit.
The day passed with amazing rapidity, and as the hour approached for Rafael's return Sara became increasingly tense and on edge, so that his arrival was almost a relief.
Dinner was a convivial meal comprising three courses and accompanied by an excellent wine. To any onlooker they presented an enviable tableau, and if Silvia was aware of any undercurrent between her son and daughter-in-law she gave n
o sign, and Ana, bless her, seemed oblivious to all in her delight at having Sara home.
At eight o'clock Rafael brooked little argument from Ana over her bedtime, and scarcely an hour later he intimated that Sara should retire.
'You look all eyes, querida,' he admonished gently. 'Come, I will see you upstairs, hm?'
Sara shot him a look that, quelled beneath the guise of a smile. 'There's no need. I doubt I'll collapse on the stairs.'
'Humour me, niňa,' he drawled, coming to stand beside her chair, and the smile he slanted her held a hint of warning.
Without a word she rose to her feet, and after bidding Silvia an affectionate goodnight, she preceded Rafael from the room, crossing the wide entrance hall and mounting the stairs ahead of him.
'I'm not a child,' she said crossly as soon as the bedroom door had closed behind them.
'Did I imply that you -were?' He moved slowly towards her to halt less than a foot away, and she eyed him warily, unsure of his intention.
'You don't need to tuck me into bed. I can manage quite well on my own.' If he touched her, she'd be lost, and that would never do.
'Nevertheless, I will see you safely between the sheets.'
'Rafael—'
'I insist,' he told her silkily, and she turned away defeated.
'I'd like a shower.' She moved towards the adjoining bathroom, uncaring whether he followed or not. Despite her argument to the contrary she was tired, and the thought of slipping between cool clean sheets was more welcoming than she was willing to admit.
The warm needlespray proved relaxing, and she emerged from the glass cubicle to find Rafael's tall frame leaning with indolent ease against the door-jamb. Without a word she reached for a towel and wrapped it sarong-wise about her slim form.
He moved then, untucking the edge of the towel from between her breasts, and with infinite care he began to dry the moisture from her body.
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