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And she was deluding herself if she believed that she could spend much more time with him without completely losing it and betraying how she felt.
No. As she saw it, she now had no choice. If she stayed here with Nick for the rest of the weekend she was terrified that there would come a point when her self-control and self-respect would totally desert her and when she would be reduced to a weeping pleading mess of emotions, begging him to make room in his life for her. The only way she could stop that from happening was to leave now whilst she still could.
Perhaps Nick even already sensed what she felt.
That fear increased her resolve—she had to leave—
and hope!
She had just finished packing her case when Nick came upstairs. He was carrying a mug of tea—and he was also fully dressed. As he handed her the tea he demanded sharply, 'What are you doing?'
'Packing,' Sara replied as calmly as she could, glad that she had her excuse of putting down the tea to keep her back to him so that he couldn't see her face.
'Packing...now...? We aren't going back until tomorrow....'
'Correction,' Sara told him crisply, 7'm going back today...right now, in fact. After all—' she took a deep breath before turning to face him glad of the cloaking shadows of the room as she told him bravely '—we've accomplished what we came here to do.'
Nick stared at her.
'What the hell do you mean?'
'We came here for sex,? Sara reminded him. 'To burn out the itch of desire we both felt.'
She could sense her face was starting to burn as he looked at her, but she wasn't going to give in or back down. She daren't.
Nick felt as though he had been engulfed by a huge rolling wave of unimaginable pain.
He wanted to tell her that she was lying...that she felt the same way about him as he did about her. A disorientating sense of shock and disbelief filled him, making it impossible for him to speak, making him afraid to speak...afraid of the intensity and savagery of spilling out the pain he was feeling in front of her, like someone mortally wounded spilling out his guts in a mess of raw flesh and blood. What he was experiencing was shocking, agonising, destructive, uncontrollable, uncontainable...
He could see Sara picking up her case and then stepping round him as she headed for the stairs.
Sara wondered if Nick could tell what she was really feeling...if he knew that she was lying...if he was relieved that she was removing from him the necessity of reminding her of the facts? Saving them both from the embarrassment of her declaring her love for him and begging him to take pity on her.
Last night he had refused to let her out of his arms even whilst they slept, but Sara wasn't deceived. That was just the male in him and meant nothing.
She wasn't going to cry...not now. There would be plenty of time for tears later.
And yet, right up until she was in her car and driving away, a part of her still hoped that he would say something to stop her... make her stay with him... even if it was only for a few more precious hours.
SARA HAD GONE. Nick stared in disbelief around the empty cottage. Why the hell hadn't he stopped her?
By doing what? Physically forcing her to stay? How could he have done that? He still couldn't fully take on board what she had told him.
He had been so sure...so convinced that she felt the same way as he did. What was the matter with him?
He should be pleased...relieved. Now there was nothing, no one, to stand in the way of his plans. Now he was free to do what the hell he wanted with his life!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
'Is THAT YOU, Grandpa?'
David frowned as he recognised Amelia's anxious voice on the other end of the telephone line. It was nine-thirty in the morning and he and Honor had just finished their breakfast when the phone had started to ring.
'Yes, it is, sweetheart,' he responded.
'Mummy isn't very well,' Amelia told him, her voice starting to wobble betrayingly. 'Me and Alex can't wake her up properly. She won't open her eyes but she keeps asking for our daddy.'
'Don't worry, Amelia,' David tried to reassure her as he sought not to let his own anxiety show in his voice. 'Are you and Alex dressed yet?'
'No,' Amelia answered uncertainly.
'Well, why don't you go and get dressed and by the time you are I'll be there.'
'Olivia isn't well,' he told Honor when he had replaced the receiver.
Quickly he repeated to her what Amelia had told him.
'It sounds as though she's got this flu bug that's going the rounds,' Honor told him. 'One of the symptoms is very high fever.'
'I told the girls I'd go round,' David added.
I'll come with you,' Honor offered. 'I've got a draught which is very good for cooling down a fever.'
'Do you think you should come with me?' David demurred. 'The last thing I want is for you to catch it from her, especially with the baby....'
Honor was just about to point out to him that he was just as much at risk from catching it as she was and that if he did he was almost bound to pass the virus on to her but then she stopped.
Perhaps this might be an ideal opportunity for David and Olivia to spend some time together.
'Well, I had semi-promised to help Freddy choose some furniture for the orangery. Permission has finally come through for Fitzburgh Place to be used for civil marriage ceremonies and he wants to get the orangery equipped to hold receptions there. I'd thought a semi-Tuscan theme might be appropriate.'
She stopped and told him gently, 'David, this virus is a particularly bad one. You may need to call a doctor out to Olivia. There have been quite a number of cases where people have had to be hospitalised....'
'Are you saying that you'd prefer me not to go?'
David asked her.
Immediately Honor shook her head.
'Certainly not. Olivia is your daughter and I know how I would feel if it was one of my girls who was ill—and how I'd feel and what I'd do if you tried to stop me from seeing them. No. Of course you must be there, but I don't want you to think out of loyalty to me and my "potions" that you can't call in her doctor.'
HALF AN HOUR LATER as Amelia let David into the house, he could see that both she and Alex had been crying.
As he hugged them he told them firmly, 'Now, I want you both to stay downstairs whilst I go and look at your mummy...just in case the phone rings,' he improvised when he saw that Amelia was about to protest.
The curtains were still closed in Olivia's bedroom and David's heart lurched as he recognised immediately that Olivia was delirious and only semi-conscious. Her face when he reached out to touch it was burning hot, the pillow wringing wet, her body twisting as she moved restlessly beneath the duvet.
Honor had been right to warn him that he might need to call in a doctor.
The harassed receptionist who eventually answered his call told him that it would be several hours before the doctor could get round to visit Olivia.
'Is there anything I can do in the meantime?' David demanded anxiously. 'She's obviously running a temperature. She's delirious and—'
'You can bathe her skin to try to bring her temperature down,' the receptionist advised him. 'Oh, and make sure she drinks plenty of fluids.'
'Give her four drops of the potion I gave you every half an hour in a glass of water,' Honor told David when he rang her to update her on the situation. 'It should help to break the fever. I've just been listening to the radio and they were saying that the local hospital is having to handle so many cases that they've had to cancel all but the most urgent operations.'
Mentally blessing Honor for calling him back to the house to give him the new Disney video she had bought as a stocking filler for the girls for Christmas, David glanced round the sitting room door to check on what they were doing before heading back upstairs to Olivia.
Both of them were thankfully happily engrossed in their new video.
In the bedroom Olivia was lying still, her eyes wide ope
n.
'Dad,' she queried hoarsely and angrily as she saw him. 'What are you doing here?'
'The girls were worried about you,' he answered her honestly. 'They rang me.'
'Worried about me.. .' She broke off as she started to shiver, her hand going to her throat. It felt raw with pain. Her head felt as though it were going to burst open and just as she thought she was so hot that she was about to melt, she suddenly seemed so cold that just to breathe in air hurt her lungs.
'Throat bad?' David sympathised. 'I'll go down and make you a hot drink. You always did suffer with the most vile sore throats when you were a little girl. Your mother wanted you to have your tonsils removed but...'
'But you wouldn't agree,' Olivia finished bitterly for him. 'It would have meant me being off school for three weeks and you wanted to go away on a golfing holiday. Yes, I remember.'
'No!' David denied, shocked. 'What on earth gave you that idea? I didn't want you to have the operation because I'd had it myself and I could remember how awful it was. I thought the pain was never going to end and it never stopped me from having sore throats.
There was no way I wanted you to be put through that.'
Olivia stared at him.
'No. That's not true,' she denied furiously. 'Mother told me...' She stopped as a fit of coughing seized her.
Immediately David went to pour her a glass of water from the jug he had brought up and placed beside her bed.
'Yuck,' she grimaced after she had taken a sip. 'It tastes bitter.'
