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Saul was frowning, moving slightly away from her, so that she instinctively sought to close that tiny gap. Still frowning he let her, watching her eyes close as her body absorbed the pleasure of being close to him.
‘You know I did,’ he said flatly. ‘Do you honestly think I could have made love to you the way I did simply out of…’
‘Revenge? I thought you must have done,’ she said quietly, watching the incredulous disbelief fill his eyes.
‘Revenge?’ His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he said with probing softness, ‘I was half mad with jealousy, Lucy; surely you realised that the moment I mentioned Summers’ name?’
‘No,’ Lucy said slowly, ‘I thought your making love to me must all be part of some plan you’d conceived to punish me for… for everything.’
Frowning, he sat up facing her; the pre-dawn light was fading now and Lucy blinked as he reached out to snap on one of the bedside lamps. Its golden glow encompassed them both, emphasising the deep tan of his skin and the paleness of hers.
‘I think you and I have some talking to do,’ Saul said softly. ‘Just tell me one thing. What does Neville Summers mean to you?’
‘Nothing,’ Lucy told him promptly. ‘I’ve already told you that before. He’s my cousin, and I’m very, very fond of his parents, but I saw Neville as he really is years ago.’ She had said more than she ever intended, but suddenly it didn’t matter what she might betray to Saul; instinct told her that having said so much she might as well go on.
‘When he came to see me that afternoon, to try and blackmail me into giving him some help, my first instinct was to refuse outright, but I knew if I did he wouldn’t tell me any more, whereas if I pretended I would help, I could learn more about his plans.’
‘But when I asked you if you had had any visitors, you denied it,’ Saul reminded her.
‘Because you seemed so worried… I didn’t want to add to your problems. I told you that then.’
‘Yes, you did,’ he agreed sombrely, ‘and I was so caught up in my own destructive jealousy I didn’t know what to believe. All I could think about was that summer and how he had encouraged you to reject me. And how much he had enjoyed it. He knew then that I was attracted to you, Lucy, even if you didn’t. He even taunted me with it.’ He smiled derisively as he saw the disbelief in her eyes. ‘Oh yes, he knew all right.’
‘I thought it might be something like that… that it could be because you were jealous of him that you had… that you rejected me.’
‘You did some pretty definite rejecting of your own,’ Saul reminded her. ‘You let me think you were in league with him against me.’
‘Because I was so hurt that you could… that you could make love to me like that and then reject me. I had to have some means of self-defence.’
‘Lucy…’ He pulled her gently towards him, resting her head against his shoulder. ‘Is it too late for us to start again? To try and build on what we do have? We desire each other.’
‘Desire isn’t love.’ She said it unhappily, unable to look at him.
‘No,’ he agreed after some hesitation. ‘But while one of us loves, surely…’
Lucy stiffened, wrenching herself out of his arms. So all along he had known how she felt about him.
‘All right, I admit I do love you, Saul,’ she agreed, trembling with emotion and temper, ‘but…’
‘Hey, wait a minute. What do you mean, “you admit you love me”?’
‘Exactly what I said,’ she snapped back, hating the smile that curled his mouth and brought glimmering sparks of delight to his eyes. ‘You’ve obviously known all along how I felt, and I…’
He was shaking his head, his smile going. ‘No, Lucy,’ he said seriously, ‘I haven’t known. Why the devil do you think I was so jealous of Neville? So unsure of you? Not because I knew you loved me, for sure.’
‘But you said…’ Her forehead crinkled into a small frown.
‘What I said was, as long as one of us loves… But the one I was referring to was me, not you.’
For several seconds she was stupefied into silence and then she objected shakily,
‘But you can’t love me. You left without a word, and never even tried to get in touch with me. If we hadn’t met by accident at the Manor, you’d…’
‘I’d have torn England apart trying to find you,’ he groaned suddenly, pulling her into his arms, his voice thick and raw with emotion as he told her.
‘I was just setting out for the Dower House that night to see you and apologise when my mother rang. She was in such a panic about Harry, I didn’t dare take the time to talk to you about my jealousy. I wasn’t sure enough of you to think you would readily understand. I’d been shocked by my behaviour—shocked and disgusted, and I knew you would be, too. It wasn’t something that could be put right in a phone call or a letter. I’d hoped to get back sooner than I did, and when I did manage to fly in it was to find that you’d left. It was like a blow in the gut. I took it to mean that you were finished with me… That I’d been right after all and Neville was the one you wanted. I can’t begin to tell you what it did to me to think that all the time I was making love to you, you were wishing it was someone else. It just tore me apart.
