Sinful Nights: The Six-Month Marriage\Injured Innocent\Loving (17 page)

‘Blake, it’s cold in here …’ He was halfway through shaving when she finally plucked up the courage to remind him, albeit obliquely, that she wanted to get out of the bath. He finished what he was doing, rubbing his jaw experimentally. ‘I thought you always shaved in the morning,’ Sapphire muttered crossly. Why couldn’t he take the hint and leave her in privacy to get ready for bed?

‘So I did,’ he agreed blandly, unplugging the razor and turning round to lean indolently against the wall, watching her, ‘but married men, my sweet, always shave at night. It saves wear and tear on delicate feminine skin,’ he pointed out, grinning openly when she started to blush. The colour seemed to start at her toes and wash up over her body until it reached the swell of her breasts, now barely concealed by the cold bubbles, ‘and
if you’re cold, why don’t you get out of the bath?’ He saw her tense and instinctively try to submerge more of her body beneath the bubbles and leant towards her. ‘Why so shy? You weren’t this afternoon.’

How could she explain that that had been different; that then in the heat of passion her own nudity had not disturbed her, but that now in the small confines of the bathroom, with Blake still fully dressed, it did?

All she could manage was a cross, ‘You seem to forget that unlike you, I’m not used to … to …’

‘Living with someone? The only person I’ve ever lived with is you, Sapphire.’ As he spoke he was unfastening his shirt buttons. When he had finished he tugged it off, revealing the tautly muscled expanse of his chest. Her breath seemed to lock inside her as Sapphire tried to drag her hungry gaze away from his body.

‘Since you won’t get out of your own volition, and since I’m too much of a gentleman to let you freeze, I’ll just have to help you, won’t I?’ Blake drawled, and as he leaned towards her, Sapphire realised why he had removed his shirt, and tried automatically to evade him. The small tidal wave her hurried movements caused soaked Blake’s jeans, but didn’t prevent him from lifting her out of the bath. His chest felt warm and hard against her water-chilled damp flesh, a shivering that had nothing to do with the cold raising goose bumps over her sensitised skin.

‘Blake!’ Her half-shocked protest was ignored. ‘You’re soaking wet,’ she pointed out breathlessly, trying to clamp down on her rising excitement and totally unable to do so. This close she could see the pores in
his skin, the mingled scent of sweat and heat coming off it provocatively arousing.

‘We both are,’ he agreed, slowly letting her slide to the floor, while reaching for her towel with his free hand, ‘but it can soon be remedied.’ His eyes never left her face as he enveloped her in the large soft towel and then slowly started to rub her dry.

Within seconds of his touching her Sapphire had forgotten how chilled she had been. Her body seemed to be bathed with heat, consumed by it everywhere he touched her. She had never dreamed that something as mundane as drying her damp skin could be so unbelievably erotic but the gentle friction of the towel against her skin, in Blake’s hands became an instrument of exquisite pleasure that delighted and yet intruded unbearably, stopping her from savouring the touch of Blake’s hands against her skin—a touch she now burned and hungered for even more than she had this afternoon. He only had to touch her and she went up in flames, she realised shudderingly, almost lightheaded with desire.

‘Blake.’ His name was a muffled protest and a plea, lost against his chest as she gave in to an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him, pressing trembling lips to the hard column of his throat, and glorying in his responsive shudder.

‘Tell me you want me.’ The hoarse command was one she couldn’t resist.

‘I want you.’

The towel fell away as he picked her up and strode through into the bedroom. Against her body she could feel the fierce thud of Blake’s heart, pounding out an
unmistakably erotic message, his body, hard and urgent as he deposited her on the bed, tugging off his wet jeans before joining her.

‘Show me how much,’ he demanded thickly, tracing an erotic pathway downwards along her throat, his fingers burning fiery brands of possession against her skin as he cupped the silky skin of her breast, delicately stroking the hard nub of her nipple. This time Sapphire responded immediately without hesitation, knowing with one corner of her mind that mingled with her desire and love was a tiny thread of desperation urging her to take as much of him as she could while she could—memories to store up to keep her warm on those nights when her bed would be cold and empty without him. As though her yearning hunger reached out and unleashed some deep core of need within him Blake reacted to her passion, touching her, kissing her with a barely restrained ferocity that left her weakly clinging to him like a drowning person to a raft. His touch, his need, the words of passion and hunger he muttered into her ear, took her far beyond the shores of love and out into an ocean so deep she knew that without him she would sink and never ever re-surface.

Fierce tremors of pleasure raced through her body, each lingering caress making her arch and invite with a sensuality that left one corner of her mind half-shocked. Could this really be her, touching Blake with a far greater intimacy than she had ever envisaged; stroking and kissing the taut male body until Blake cried out in a delirium of need, reaching for her, taking the
fullness of one breast deeply into his mouth and laving it with the moist heat of his tongue.

Now it was her turn to cry out with pleasure and to experience the fierce shudder of pleasure slamming through Blake’s body as he responded to that cry. His fingers stroked circles of fire along the inside of her thigh her body aching with the intensity of her need. He touched her intimately and she melted, twisting and turning, breathing in short, muffled gasps.

‘It’s no good, I can’t wait any longer.’ Blake’s groaned admission echoed her own thoughts, her body wildly exulting in his swift possession and frenziedly responding to it. The world seemed to explode around them Sapphire crying out with pleasure at each powerful thrust of his body, her nails scoring heatedly along his back as she sought to prolong the contact her body craved even after the climax had been reached and the deep ache inside her soothed.

She felt Blake move away slightly and murmured an incoherent protest. ‘Hush …’ His mouth covered hers briefly, warm and moist and she was shocked to feel the light spiral of desire twist through her so quickly after she thought it had been sated. She tried to move away when Blake bent his head to suck lightly on her swollen and slightly sore nipples, but the pleasure of his touch seduced her into staying where she was, dreamily contemplating the smooth warmth of his skin, reaching out lazy fingers to stroke idly along the ridge of his shoulder.

When his lips grazed across her stomach she felt too indolent to protest, simply looking down at the thick
darkness of his hair and wondering awedly that one person could be so vitally important to her happiness.

Blake’s fingers touched her thigh, and she tensed as his tongue touched her so intimately that she almost recoiled from the shock of it, trying to pull away and yet at the same time consumed by the molten heat his intimacy engendered until she was giving herself up to it, abandoning herself completely to the sensual spell he was weaving around her, unaware that she was crying out his name.

This time their coming together was less tumultuous, more leisurely and prolonged; Blake’s fierce cry of exultation muffled by her kiss, her arms holding him locked against her body as she savoured the sweet aftermath of their pleasure. She fell asleep still holding him, waking during the night to discover that their positions were reversed and that he was now the one holding her, the heavy weight of one leg thrown across her body, pinning her close against him. Sleepily content she nestled closer to him gloating over the pleasure of being able to do so; of being free to reach out and touch the matted hair on his chest; to place her lips to the pulse thudding slowly in his throat. Maybe he only wanted her, but she loved him and hopefully, God willing, they could yet build a relationship; a marriage that could last.

She fell asleep on that thought waking to find herself alone. Downstairs in the kitchen she found a note propped up against the teapot and a small smile tugged at her lips as she read it.

‘Market Day,’ Blake had written. ‘Don’t expect me back until late—suggest you catch up on your sleep!’

She spent the morning in a blissful daze, knowing that she was walking around with a smile on her face like a cat fed on cream, but unable to do a thing about it.

After a light lunch she contemplated going for a walk, and was just about to set out when she heard the sound of a car driving into the yard. From her vantage point in the kitchen she watched Miranda uncurl her slender body from the driver’s seat, her face disdainful as she picked her way over the cobbled yard in spike heeled shoes. Her cream wool suit and expensive shoes were beautiful but surely completely unsuitable for farm visiting Sapphire reflected waspishly as Miranda knocked on the back door.

‘If you want Blake, I’m afraid he isn’t here,’ she told her curtly, knowing she was being ungracious but unable to stop herself. It still hurt bitterly to think of Blake and this woman being lovers; to know that if Miranda hadn’t married they still would be lovers. It did nothing to endear Miranda to her to know that at least some of Blake’s desire for her must have been fuelled by the fact that he was missing
her
and Sapphire knew some of her feelings must be reflected in her face.

‘It isn’t Blake I wanted to see,’ Miranda surprised her by saying smugly, ‘Of course I knew he wouldn’t be here. It’s market day—we normally meet for lunch but of course since I got married …’ She shrugged dainty shoulders. ‘I’ve told Blake he can’t have his cake and eat it. It’s much pleasanter being a married woman than being a single one …’

‘Despite the fact that you had to settle for second
best,’ Sapphire threw at her, regretting her impulsive comment the moment she saw the pale blue eyes harden.

‘Hardly that,’ Miranda drawled tauntingly. ‘As a lover Blake is first-rate, but as a husband?’ Her eyebrows lifted. ‘Hardly. For one thing Jim is an extremely wealthy man, whereas Blake …’ She glanced round the large kitchen disparagingly. ‘Being a working farmer’s wife is hardly my métier …’

‘No, I can see that,’ Sapphire agreed drily, ‘But if you haven’t come to see Blake why have you come here?’

Settling herself comfortably in a chair Miranda raised calculating blue eyes to Sapphire’s darker ones. ‘Oh I thought it was time you and I had a little talk—that er, shall we say … certain ground rules were laid down. You know of course that Blake and I are lovers?’

‘I know you
were
,’ Sapphire agreed coolly, hoping that Miranda would never guess how much the admission cost her.

‘Were?’
The thin eyebrows lifted tauntingly, ‘Oh dear is that what he told you? And you believed him? Poor Sapphire,’ she mocked. ‘Blake is far too virile a man to give up what he and I have between us. Oh I grant you, you’ve grown up from the awkward adolescent he married, but Blake loves me, Sapphire, and all you’ll ever be is a pale substitute. Your marriage to him won’t last. Blake will tire of you again just like he did before.’

Her taunting words, the look in her eyes, and her own inner insecurities all combined to goad Sapphire into saying with desperate intensity, ‘You’re wrong; Blake wants our marriage to last.’

‘You mean he wants to keep your father sweet to make sure he doesn’t lose out on Flaws Farm,’ Miranda derided. ‘Oh come on Sapphire you know it’s true. That’s the only reason Blake ever married you, and the reason he wanted you back. Your father threatened to sell his farm elsewhere if he didn’t. You’d better pray that he lives a long time if you’re counting on seeing more than one wedding anniversary, just as Blake must be hoping that he doesn’t.’

The cruelty of her gibe took Sapphire’s breath away for a moment. With tears in her eyes she cried fiercely, ‘That’s not true, Blake knows that my father only has a matter of months to live … I …’

‘What? What on earth are you talking about?’ Miranda snapped obviously disbelieving her. ‘Why only last month Jim was telling me how amazed he is by your father’s stamina. It must come of coming from sturdy farming stock,’ she added, her lip curling fastidiously.

‘Oh I know he was seriously ill with pneumonia, but Jim told me he’d never seen anyone recover so quickly from it, never mind a man well into his mid-sixties. If he’s told you he’s at death’s door, he’s lying,’ she told Sapphire positively. A gleam of suspicion darkened her eyes momentarily, her gaze narrowing as she studied Sapphire with insolent appraisal. ‘So that’s how he got Blake to take you back,’ she breathed triumphantly at last, ‘by telling him that he’s close to death. Of course! It would work perfectly. Poor Blake, I wonder what he’s going to say when he knows he’s been deceived. I can’t wait to see his face,’ she purred viciously. ‘I don’t think he’s going to be too pleased about the way you’ve
trapped him into taking you back. Oh I grant you he’s single-minded enough to stay with you until he’s got what he wants, but that doesn’t mean he’ll ever really be yours or that he cares about you.’

She turned and left before Sapphire could retaliate. Not that she had anything left to retaliate with, she thought despairingly, staring helplessly out of the window. Everything fitted together too neatly for Miranda to be wrong. She had thought herself, the last time she saw him, that her father looked better. He had even been out of bed, she remembered. Dear God how could he have done this to her? How could he have put her in this position?

Perhaps Miranda
was
wrong, she though feverishly … after all she had only the other woman’s word for it that her father had only had pneumonia. Frantically pacing the kitchen Sapphire knew there was only one way to find out. She was already dressed for walking, so pulling on her boots she stepped out into the yard closing the kitchen door behind her.

If Miranda was right Blake would have to be told. She shivered in the cold breeze. What would his reaction be? He had never made any secret of the fact that he wanted Flaws Farm, but there was a big difference in expecting to inherit in say six months’ time and waiting perhaps sixteen years? After all her grandfather had lived to his mid-eighties and so had his father before him. Walking quickly to try and blot out her jumbled thoughts, Sapphire headed for Flaws Farm.