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" Do you like gardening?" be asked her.
It was a natural enough question, and of course had nothing to do withhis preceding comment, especially when he had already indicated to herthat he was still getting over a broken love-affair, and when he knewthat she also.
It was stupid of her to feel so idiotically self-conscious, so vividlyaware of just how much she would have enjoyed spending the lengtheningspring days working within the shelter of those ancient walls, digging,planting. watching things grow. -feeding and nurturing her young crops,and then, later in the year, enjoying the rewards of all her hard workas she harvested their produce.
" Yes. Yes, I do," she told him, conscious that both her body and hervoice were stiff with tension as she turned away from the window andheaded for the door.
The rest of the house was very much as Stuart had described it to her.
He showed her where he had made repairs to the exterior fabric of thebuilding in order to prevent leaks and rain damage, but, as he told her,the house was going to require a good deal of work done on it before it could be described as a home.
" Still, at least you know what can be done," Sara commented afterStuart had shown her the small panelled study, pointing out where damphad spoiled the woodwork.
" The work you'vedone on the kitchen is marvelous."
" Thank you. I'm not quite so confident of being able to restore theoriginal panelling and the stairs quite so effectively. I suspect it'sgoing to take a good deal of searching through the reclamation yardstrying to find that elusive and all-important exactly right item."
" Hard work," Sara agreed, but most definitely worthwhile. In an oddsort of way I almost envy you."
He gave her a wry look.
" It's such a marvelous challenge, and even when you've got the house asyou want it it isn't over; then you've got the pleasure of living here.
Of knowing how much the effort you'veput into it is making it what itis."
" Not very many women would share that view," Stuart told her drily,making her wonder if perhaps it could have been his decision to relocatehereto the Welsh borders which had brought about the end of hislove-affair.
Perhaps his Canadian girlfriend she could only a.s.sume that she must havebeen Canadian, since he had already told her he had been working therehad not cared for the idea of moving to Britain and living in such anold and ramshackle building. Personally she could think of nothing shewould enjoy more than the challenge the house represented.
Even without closing her eyes she could already picture how it would oneday look rich brocades enhancing the mellow restored panelling, waxedfloors, Persian rugs, st.u.r.dy pieces of oak furniture, some antique, somemore modern, just as some of the rooms would be clothedin rare andvaluable antiques while others would be furnished with more practicalchild proof items. Off the kitchen, there would be a sunny, comfortablemorning-room where children could play within earshot of their mother.
Upstairs would be the master suite which Stuart had de scribed, with itsst.u.r.dy four-poster bed, its air of peace and tranquillity, itscomfortable sitting- room, where husband and wife could retire to spenda few precious hours on their own: a private retreat whose existence wasrespected by all other members of the family, teenagers included.
Over lunch, Stuart described his work to her in a little more detail,causing her to marvel openly at what seemed to her to be his almostmagical ability to uproot and transplant fully mature trees.
She laughed when he told her that he was just as impressed and bemusedby her confidence in being able to restore order to his paperwork.
After they had had lunch, he reluctantly ushered her into his office,warning her that if, once she had seen the chaos that awaited her, shechose to change her mind and withdraw her offer of a.s.sistance he wouldnot blame her.
It was true that the office was untidy, but at least he had made someattempt to keep things in order, as he explained to her when he pointedout that the various apparently haphazard piles of paper on the deskeach consisted of either incoming correspondence relating to orders,orders completed those awaiting delivery, plus two other stacks ofincoming and outgoing invoices.
When Sara pointed out to him that all of his problems could be reducedto much more manageable proportions if he made full use of his computerand set aside a small amount of time every day in order to keep on topof the paperwork as it arose, he asked her wryly," How small is a smallamount of time? At the moment, I'm working flat out, outside."
Sara eyed the desk thoughtfully, and p.r.o.nounced," Well, at the momentI'd say you'd need to spend probably two or even three full days gettingall this stuff on to the computer, and then--' " Don't go any further,"Stuart warned her.
" Two or three days, you say... I suspect you mean it would take you twoor three days. It would take me more like two or three months."
Sara laughed and asked him," Have you thought of employing someone on apart-time basis to cope with the paperwork for you?"
" Have I? Every time I walk in here--but you try getting someonequalified to deal with it, with all the skills that that involves, tocome all the way out here, for the very small salary that's all I canafford to pay them.
" Look," he added abruptly," I can't ask you to give up so much ofyour-time.
Not when you've come down here to--' " To come to terms with the factthat Ian is never going to want me," Sara supplied brittlely.
" Believe me, something to keep my mind occupied is exactly what I doneed." She broke off, wondering if she had said too much, if his commenthad perhaps been a tactful way of telling her that he had changed hismind on realising how long it would take her to get things in order, andwas tactfully refusing her offer of a.s.sistance as he did not want tohave her spending so much time in his home.
But to her surprise he said almost tersely," Well, if that really is thecase, how about working for me on a part-time basis while you're here? Iknow you said you'd probably be staying for a few months. As I've alreadysaid, I can't afford to pay you a great deal, certainly nothing like theamount you're worth, but if you do genuinely want something to fill insome of your time..."
Work for Stuart. She gnawed thoughtfully on her bottom Up and thenreleased it with a small wince of pain, telling herself that nibbling onit every time she was anxious about something was a habit she reallymust break.
" I'm sorry," Stuart was apologising.
" I really shouldn't have suggested it. Of course you don't ' " No. No.I do." Sara corrected him quickly.
" I was just worried that you might have offered me the job because...because you... you felt sorry for me."
She flushed as she made the admission.
It didn't matter how well she got on with him, he was still a man, andas a man couldn't be expected to understand the legacy of insecurity anddoubt about her own femininity, her s.e.xuality, her deepest emotions andfeelings about being a woman. He couldn't be expected to know how muchAnna's gibes had damaged and maimed her, had left her unable to have anyfaith in herself as a woman. had left her feeling that there wa.s.something lacking in her, some vital part or ingredient. It haddestroyed her confidence in herself, her faith in her ability tofunction as a woman in the fullest sensual sense.
" You think I'm offering you a job out of pity?" Stuart shook his headand told her almost grimly," Out of self-pity, maybe, but not out ofpity for you. I don't pity you. As a matter of fact, I still thinkyou've had a lucky escape. The man must be a fool to let a woman likeyou--' He broke off and then continued roughly," Take it from me, if youdecide to work for me, you'll be the one doing me the favour, not theother way round."
Caution urged her to say that she needed time to think about it, toconsider, but instinct urged her to go ahead and accept his offer. Ameans of occupying her mind was exactly what she needed right now. Ifshe hesitated, started allowing herself to have doubts." I would like towork for you," she told him firmly before she could change her mind.
" If you're sure that that's what you want."
" What I want?" He gave her an odd, almost brooding look, before tellingher incomprehensibly," Well, it's a start. If you're ready I'll show youround outside now. You brought your Wellingtons? I know it's a fine day,but..."
" I was brought up here, remember," Sara reminded him.
" They're still in your Land Rover."
" Right, you hang on here. I'll go and get them for you, and then we'llmake a start."
He was opening the kitchen door before she could protest that she wasperfectly capable of getting them for herself. As she watched himstriding across the yard to the Land Rover, she asked herself if she haddone the right thing in accepting his offer of a job. Still, it was toolate to rescind her decision now, and besides. besides. She discoveredwith a mild thrill of shock that she was actually almost looking forwardto working here, to the challenge.
" Of what? Sorting out his paperwork?" A small uneasy sensation stirredin the pit of her stomach. She wasn't one of those idiotic women who gotthemselves involved in an endlessly repet.i.tive, destructive cycle, wa.s.she?
She wasn't going to allow herself to develop the same kind of emotionaldependence on Stuart that she had developed on Ian.
No, of course she wasn't. The two men were completely different; the two situations were completely different. She had been in love with Ianbefore she went to work with him. She wasn't remotely in danger offalling in love with Stuart. How could she be when she still loved Ian?
Ian. It was only when she had her Wellingtons on and was walking besideStuart towards the Land Rover that she realised how little she had thought about Ian in the past few hours.
A tiny s.h.i.+ver struck her, but she subdued it. That was good, wasn't it?
That was the whole purpose in her coming home, here to the place whereIan had never been; where there were no memories of him to torment andtaunt her.
Almost an hour later she stood silent with awe, in front of one of adozen mature oak trees which, Stuart was just explaining to her, weredue to be lifted and transplanted to an estate in the south of Englandwhich had lost many of its own mature trees in the gales which nowseemed so much more common.
'm some cases, if we act fast enough, it is possible to save those treeswhich the gale has uprooted. Adolescent trees are the most at risk; they've got the height without the width of a secure root-base tosupport them, but, being adolescent, they very often have the resilienceand ability to reroot themselves once we've replanted them, provided weact in time."
The more he explained to her about his business, the more fascinatingSara found it. She had never realised it was such a complex subject,imagining that once a tree had been blown down and uprooted it had noreal chance of survival.
" Mind out," Stuart warned her, taking hold of her arm and helping herout of the way, as a miniature tractor-c.u.m-trailer swung into viewdriven by a young man whom she recognised as the son of a local farmer.
When he smiled at her, she responded, causing Stuart to comment," Youobviously know young Lewis Llewellyn."
" Yes," Sara agreed, watching as the young man swung the tractorexpertly round the bend in the cart track, carefully maneuvering thetrailer with its load of young saplings.
" He's been working for me for a month or so now and he's doing verywell.
There isn'ttime today for me to show you the nursery where we're growingthe young saplings, but now that you're coming to work here..."
He turned round as he spoke, but as Sara turned to follow him she forgotabout the low overhanging branch close to her, and gasped in pain andshock as she pushed against its pliancy and it sprang back, whippingacross her face.
Stuart heard her cry out and turned round, ex claiming," What is it?
What's wrong?" Comprehension darkened his eyes as he saw the red wealmarking her skin and read the message of pain given off by her body.
" h.e.l.l, that's my fault. I should have warned you. Here, let me have alook."
Before she could stop him, he was cupping her face in his hands, turningit gently into the light, his body so close to her own that she couldsmell not only the fresh outdoors scent of the wind and growing things,but also the unmistakable warm male scent of his body.
Previously if anyone had even suggested to her that she could actuallyfind in such an intimate awareness of a man's personal body scent something so erode that her own flesh responded to it immediately andoverwhelmingly she would have denied it vehemently, almost shocked bysuch a suggestion, and yet now, despite the stinging pain in her face,she discovered that she had actually taken a step towards Stuart, thatshe was actually eager to breathe in the intimate scent of him, that shewas even wondering what it would be like to unfasten the b.u.t.tons of hiss.h.i.+rt, to slide her hands over the damp heat of his body, to rest herface against hisskin, to. She made a small protesting sound of denial ofwhat she was experiencing, causing Stuart to apologise and tell her, " I'm sorry. I know it must sting, but fortunately it doesn't seem tohave lacerated the skin. It is grazed, though, and I think we'd betterget you back to the house and get some antiseptic on it. I should havewarned you about that branch."
" It's my own fault," Sara told him shakily. He was still standingcloser to her, his hands still cup ping her face. She wanted him torelease her. She was all too uncomfortably conscious of her awareness ofhim. It made her feel guilty; she had no right to feel so intimatelyaware of him. no right and no reason. What was the matter with her? Hadlan's rejection of her changed her so completely that she had gonealmost overnight from being a woman with very little interest in orawareness of male s.e.xuality to a woman who was so acutely aware of it,so embarra.s.singlyresponsive to it that instead of moving away fromStuart as she ought to be doing she was having to fight against anoverwhelming urge to move closer to him?
He had been wearing a pair of heavy-duty working gloves. Now he pulledone of them off and ran his thumb gently over the abrasion, causing herto wince and s.h.i.+ver.
" I'm sorry," he apologised again.
" I just wanted to check that you are only grazed and that no bark haslodgedin the wound."
As he spoke, the breeze caught hold of her hair and whipped it across.h.i.+s face. He moved his hand, sliding it against her scalp, lifting itback behind her ear.
As hi shand touched her skin, she s.h.i.+vered violently. She felt thetension that suddenly held him still and lifted her gaze to his.
His eyes were darkly gold, glittering fiercely, tension drawing theflesh of his face taut against his bones. His eyelids dropped, hidinghis expression from her, his lashes thick and dark against his tannedskin.
He was looking, she realised with stomach- lurching intensity, at hermouth.
Immediately she was conscious of a desire to wet her lips with hertongue-dp; she was equally aware of the swollen fullness of her bottomlip where she had bitten it.
" You've bitten your lip."
The words seemed to reach her from a great distance, slow and heavy, asthough each one was weighed down with great importance.
" Yes. It's a bad habit."
Now she did touch her bottom lip with her tongue-tip, finding the smallwound she herself had inflicted.
" Don't' The raw command made her stiffen as she automatically searchedhis face, her eyes dazed and confused.
He was lowering his head, moving closer to her. There was still time forher to move away, still time for her to avoid the kiss she knew wascoming, but although she trembled and felt the mingling of excitementand apprehension burning through her veins like apowerful drug she madeno attempt to move away.
He kissed her gently, tenderly almost, his mouth warm and explorative onhers, his tongue- tip finding the small abrasion on her bottom lip andstroking it, soothing it, and then suddenly and overwhelmingly fillingher with such a sharp piercing response to him that she was opening hermouth, reaching out towards him, moving eagerly within the circle of hisarms almost before she knew what she was doing.
She could feel the fierce almost frantic thud of his heart against herbody, smell the warm aroused man scent of him, feel the tautness of hisbody, its alien maleness, its strength and power, and such a force ofneed--of yearning. of aching. wanting--filled her that her awareness ofit shocked her into realising what she was doing what she was feeling.
She made a small moan of protest beneath his mouth, pus.h.i.+ng against hischest, so that he immediately released her and stepped back from her.
" I'm sorry."
A hard flush of colour ran along his cheek bones; he looked almostgrimly angry not with her, Sara realised guiltily, as he made a stiltedapology, but with himself.
" I haven't any excuse. There is no excuse. I should never have..." Hismouth twisted.
" All I can hope is that you'll be generous and put it down to the factthat you are a very attractive and desirable woman, and I'm a man whohas perhaps been living on his own for too long."
What could she say? If he was guilty then so was she. She had known hewas going to kiss her, had known it and had done nothing whatsoever toprevent it, which she could have done. Just a simple step back from him.just a simple turning away of her head, and the whole situation couldhave been easily averted, but instead. She took a deep breath,acknowledging inwardly that not only had she wanted him to kiss her, butshe had almost actively invited and encouraged it. Even if he had not recognised her responsiveness to him, and it seemed that he had not, shemost certainly had.
As she turned her head away from him, she heard him saying quietly," Ihope this won't affect your decision to come and work for me. I promiseyou that it won't happen again. Now that I'm aware..."
She froze, tensing her muscles, afraid that he might after all haverecognised that it could have been her own awareness of him which hadsome how been indirectly responsible for his reaction to her; that hemight after all have recognised it but been too good-mannered to mentionit, but to her relief he broke off, looking grimly into the middledistance, leaving her to say into the heavy silence," Please don'tapologise. After all, we're both mature adults. I'm sure both of usrealise that it... that is..." She was beginning to flounder a littleguiltily aware of how fast her heart was beating of how she could stillfeel the warmth of his mouth on her own, of how intensely apart of herlonged still to actually have his mouth on her own.
'that it was just a reflex physical reaction," she stammered lamely.
He gave her a sharply direct look that made her skin flush withdiscomfort and guilt.
" A reflex physical reaction. Yes, I suppose you're right."
For some reason his comment hurt her. What would she have preferred himto say? she derided herself half an hour later as he drove the LandRover back into the cobbled yard. That he had been overwhelmed by desirefor her? That he had felt a momentary and uncontrollable male l.u.s.t forher? Of course not.
She was allowing lan's rejection of her to make her wallow in self-pity,to make her want some kind of ridiculous show of male desire for her anymale desire. She ought to be disgusted with herself, ashamed Of herself,instead of feeling. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, wincing as shecaught the broken flesh.
Instead of feeling what? Cheated. deprived. all too conscious of thatsmall sharp ache inside her body which said that if she hadn't beenstupid enough to push him away Stuart might well have. Have what? Madelove to her? Of course he wouldn't and of course she wouldn't have wanted him to.
The very idea was. She swallowed hard, unwilling to admit exactly whather reaction to the very idea of Stuart making love to her was.
" I'd better take a proper look at that graze," Stuart told her as hestopped the Land Rover.
" There'sno need," Sara a.s.sured him hastily.
" It feels fine now... Would it be OK if I stayed on for a couple ofhours?
I'd like to familia rise my self with your computer, and go through thepaperwork with you, but if I'm going to be in the way I could leave ituntil..."