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It was only a few yards to the ladies' showers and changing rooms but by the time she made it to their sanctuary Sara's heart was pumping fiercely as she tensed her body against her fear of Nick catching up with her before she reached it.
ON THE OTHER SIDE of the pool, Nick exhaled fiercely.
Seeing and recognising the transfixed male look in his eyes, Bobbie Crighton was amused. She and Luke had bumped into him by accident earlier. They were club members and Luke was playing golf with some friends whilst Bobbie had been intending to enjoy a swim followed by the luxury of a manicure. Her children were spending the day with their grandparents and she had just been on her way to the second-floor beauty treatment rooms above the swimming pool when she had bumped into Nick, who had explained that his brother Saul had insisted that he use their membership facilities to help build up his damaged muscles.
'Someone you know?' she remarked sotto voce now, following the direction of Nick's hard-edged glare.
'Sara Lanyon. She works for Frances Sorter,' he told Bobbie grimly. 'She's related through marriage, in a roundabout sort of way, to David's ex-wife, from whom it seems she's picked up some idiotic antipathy to the Crightons in general and male Crightons in particular—and this Crighton male—in extreme particular!'
'Oh, dear,' Bobbie sympathised, but there was a rueful look in her eyes. After all, hadn't she, in what now seemed like another lifetime, arrived in Haslewich with very much the same attitude?
Intriguing that another woman should come to Haslewich sharing a similar antagonism. Would she undergo the kind of change that she, Bobbie, had experienced? Bobbie's smile deepened as she remembered how Luke Crighton had been instrumental in her own change of heart.
'How's Olivia managing?' she asked, switching the subject. 'If we hadn't arranged to take the children to the States for Christmas I'd have offered to help.'
Bobbie had originally helped to look after Olivia's children when they were younger and she and Olivia had remained very close until Olivia had gone back to work full-time, after which Bobbie had seen less and less of her.
'According to Saul there was never any way Livvy was going to feel good about David coming back, but neither he nor Tullah talk about her too much. After all, there was a time when Saul and Livvy were pretty close....'
'Yes, but that was before Saul had met Tullah,'
Bobbie pointed out.
'Ah, but you women can be pretty possessive where your men are concerned,' Nick teased her deliberately.
'Us women,' Bobbie began and then laughed, recognising when she was deliberately being baited.
'Female jealousy is nothing when compared to that of the male of the species,' she warned him. 'Just you wait! I'd better go,' she added, 'otherwise I'll be late for my treatment.'
'See you at one for lunch then,' Nick reminded her.
He had promised himself a session in the gym to work on his damaged muscles but suddenly all he could think about was Sara.
He had received a letter this morning, forwarded to him by Ffion Davies, the wife of a local landowner in Pembrokeshire where he lived. Ffion acted as his assistant-cum-secretary and had a spare key to his cottage. She had typed a note to accompany the letter which had read, 'this looked urgent—and interesting!'
The letter was from a man who had refused to iden-tify himself other than by saying that he was a senior diplomat. He had given a box number for Nick to reply to and he was asking for Nick's help in securing the release of his daughter who was being held hostage by a break-away religious group in the Far East.
His request was a little outside Nick's normal field of operations in that he was being asked to use his negotiation skills and familiarity with the politics of the area in question rather than his legal expertise. The government of the country concerned had already made it clear that they were not prepared to negotiate with the rebels and the writer feared for the safety of his daughter. Nick didn't blame him; there had been too many incidents of hostages being killed in such situations for him not to do so.
Strictly speaking, there were other agencies better equipped to deal with this situation than he was himself but... But it was just the kind of challenge he needed right now...and it would take him away from Haslewich and Sara...if he could get himself fit enough to take the task on.
SARA SMILED voluptuously to herself as her body relaxed under the skilled hands of the masseuse. She was daydreaming that she was lying on a tropical beach watching as Nick swam towards her through the clear aquamarine water.
On the other side of the thin partition separating her treatment room from its neighbour she heard a familiar warm female laugh—the woman she had seen with Nick. Suddenly her daydream changed. Another woman came walking down the beach coming between her and Nick. She was tall and magnificently curved and Nick was turning away from her to swim to the interloper.
'There,' the masseuse smiled, bringing Sara back to reality, 'all finished.'
Thanking her, Sara slid off the bed. By rights she ought to have been feeling totally relaxed but instead, thanks to Nick Crighton and his sexy female friend, she was feeling anything but.
Who was she? Were she and Nick already lovers?
She was extraordinarily striking looking. The intensity of her own jealousy bewildered Sara, but no matter how hard she tried she could neither drive it away nor analyse it.
In the end, in desperation, whilst she redressed and brushed her hair she reminded herself sharply that it was ridiculous for her to feel like this. Just because she had spent going on for close on a week fighting as hard as she could against the sharp pangs of longing Nick aroused in her, that was no reason for her to start over-reacting like a possessive lover. No, she had no reason to feel such jealousy, Sara acknowledged. Just as she had no reason to feel such need and desire... such... hunger... she told herself angrily. Give what you feel its proper name, she challenged herself mentally, because that's exactly what you are feeling—lust!
She had never thought of herself as a sensual woman; but then, she had never thought of herself as a jealous one, either.
She looked at her watch. It was time for her to go and have her lunch.
Lust. The word even tasted scalding hot and dangerous on her tongue, sending shock waves of wanton imagery through her thoughts.
Sara wanted to wrench it out of her mind, to sub-jugate and destroy it. But how could she? The best way to fight fire was supposed to be to turn and face it, not run from it...to fight it with its own self. Was Nick right? Was the best way to rid herself of her unwanted hunger for him to give in to it and let it burn itself out?
The cafe bar where she had booked her table was busy, families enjoying a shared lunch, couples energised and glowing with health from their morning's exercise. She was just about to follow the waitress to her
table when she saw them walking towards her—
Nick and his lady friend, arm in arm, smiling intimately at one another. This time the jealousy that hit her was like the kick of a mule. Instant, hard and horridly painful—so painful in fact that she actually had to gasp for breath.
'Isn't that the girl we saw this morning?' Bobbie asked Nick as she spotted Sara.
Nick, who had already seen her and had decided for his own sanity to ignore her presence, agreed grimly,
'Yes.'
'It looks as though she's on her own. Let's go over and join her,' Bobbie suggested, hiding her amusement with an innocent smile when Nick started to frown.
'I don't think—' he began, but Bobbie didn't let him finish. She was intrigued to meet Sara after what Nick had told her about her, and even more intrigued by Nick's reaction to her.
'It would look awfully rude if we didn't,' she told Nick. 'After all, she is practically family.'
Nick's eyebrows rose but he could sense that Bobbie wasn't going to be dissuaded.
When she saw that Nick and his companion were heading for her table Sara could barely contain her outrage. How could she possibly want a man who could be so brazen, so blatant?
His companion, she noticed, was wearing a beautiful engagement ring and a wedding ring.
'Sara,' Nick began as they reached her table. 'May I introduce you to Bobbie—'
'Do you mind if we share your table?' Bobbie took over, promptly sitting down before Sara could object.
Sara stared at her with a glazed look. Close up she was even more stunningly beautiful than Sara had imagined. What was she doing with Nick? She was married. How could he? How dare he? Did he love her...? Was he...? Was she...?
Lost in her own angry thoughts, Sara didn't see Nick reaching towards her until it was too late and he was actually touching the bare flesh of her arm. She jumped as though she had been burned, trembling from head to foot, her face going from red to white as her body reacted helplessly to his touch. She could see from the look in Nick's eyes that he was as shocked by her reaction as she was herself and then, to her own disbelief, she heard her own voice coming from what seemed to be a long way away as she said huskily, "That proposition you put to me the other day.
