The complex, three-dimensional, utterly wonderful man she had fallen deeply in love with was well and truly out of the box in which she had tried, vainly, to shove him. Holding back the effect he had on her was like trying to shore up a dam with a toothpick.
The bedroom in which they had been put—her old bedroom newly revamped, but with all the mementoes of childhood still in evidence—did nothing to repair her frayed nerves.
She was as jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof when, at a little after ten, they were shuffled off upstairs—because surely they must be exhausted after that long drive from London?
‘And don’t even think about getting up for Oliver,’ her mother carolled as Sarah was leaving the kitchen. ‘Your dad and I want to spend some time with him, so you just have yourselves a well-deserved lie-in! Lots planned for the weekend!’
Sarah crept upstairs to find Raoul already showered and waiting for her on the bed, where he was sprawled, hands folded under his head, wearing nothing but for a pair of dark boxer shorts. Instantly all thought left her head. Her body reacted the way it always did: liquefying and melting, and already anticipating the feel of his fingers on it.
But her emotions were all over the place, and she informed him that she was going to take a shower.
‘I’ll be waiting for you when you return,’ Raoul told her, following her with his eyes as she disappeared into the adjoining shower room, which was small but perfectly adequate.
She reappeared twenty minutes later. He watched her walk towards him, wearing nothing, and swiftly whipped the duvet over him—because a man could lose his mind at the sight of that glorious body, with its full, pouting breasts and smooth lines, and his mind was precisely what he needed at this very moment.
Sarah slid under the covers and turned towards him, covering his thigh with hers and splaying her fingers across his broad chest.
The shower had helped cool her down, but there was still a desperation in her as she slid further on top of him and felt the rock-hardness of his erection press against her. With a soft moan she parted her legs and moved sinuously against the shaft, her body aching and opening up for him. As the sensitised, swollen bud of her clitoris rasped against him she had to stop herself from groaning out loud.
Raoul shuddered, fighting the irresistible impulse to spin her onto her back and sate his frustration by driving into her.
‘No,’ he said unevenly.
Sarah wriggled on top of him. ‘You don’t mean that,’ she breathed, panicked by that single word.
She dipped her head, covered his mouth with hers, felt him groan as he kissed her back. Hard. He flipped her onto her back and straddled her so that he could carry on kissing her.
Sarah arched away. Her breasts ached and tingled. She wanted the wetness of his mouth on her nipples, suckling them, driving her crazy. She desperately needed to feel his mouth licking and exploring between her legs, sending her to greater and greater heights until she needed him to thrust into her. She wanted the fragile balance she had forced onto their relationship restored, because without it she was all at sea, lost and struggling to find a foothold in stormy waters.
‘No, Sarah! God!’ Raoul sprang back from her, literally leapt off the bed and walked tensely towards the window, to stare outside until his body began to damn well do as it was told. ‘Cover yourself up,’ he told her harshly, because the distraction of her nudity was doing his head in.
Sarah squirmed until she was sitting up and drew her knees up, pulling the covers right the way to her chin while he continued to loom over her in the semi-darkness like a vengeful god.
She felt cheap and dirty, and the ramifications of how she had tackled her own wayward emotions slammed into her with the savagery of a clenched fist.
How could she ever have thought that she could separate herself? Peel away her emotions and leave intact the deep craving of her body to be satisfied under cover of darkness? She wasn’t built like that. She was engulfed with a sudden sense of shame.
‘This isn’t working,’ he told her with harsh condemnation.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You know damn well what I’m talking about, Sarah!’ He raked his fingers through his hair. He wanted to punch something.
‘No, I don’t! I thought today went really well! I mean, they like you …’
‘Against all odds?’ His mouth curled cynically.
‘I didn’t exactly say all those things I told you,’ Sarah confessed in a small voice. ‘I didn’t really tell them about the state of our relationship. Of course they know how it ended between us five years ago, but I didn’t tell them that we were only together now because of Oliver. I just couldn’t face telling them the truth—at least not just yet …’
‘Why are you only now coming clean on that score?’
‘What difference does it make whether they know or not? It’s true, isn’t it? One chance meeting,’ she said bitterly, ‘and both our lives changed for ever. What’s that they say about the butterfly effect? Half an hour later and I would have finished cleaning that part of the office. Half an hour later and you would have left without even knowing that I was only metres away from you, in another part of the building …’
‘I prefer not to dwell on pointless what if? scenarios.’
Sarah gazed down at her interlinked fingers. Raoul’s reappearance in her life might have turned her world upside down, but for Oliver it had been nothing but the best possible outcome.
Her heart was beating so furiously inside her that she could scarcely breathe.
‘That bracelet …’
Sarah looked up at him quickly, so aggressively dominant in the small bedroom. ‘What about it?’
‘Gold rope? With some kind of inscription on the outside? Your mother was wearing it. Looks like the gardening accident wasn’t quite as terminal for the piece of jewellery as you imagined.’
‘I … I … Maybe I was mistaken …’
‘No,’ Raoul told her coldly, ‘maybe I was mistaken. I stupidly thought that you were willing to give this marriage a try, but you’re not.’
His lack of anger was terrifying.
‘I am giving it a try …’
‘Really? Because you’re sleeping with me?’
Sarah felt the slow boil of anger thread its way through her panic and confusion. Suddenly he was dismissive of the fact that they were sleeping together? What a noble guy! Anyone would have thought that making love was way down on his agenda, when it was the only thing he had placed any value on! The only thing he had ever placed any value on. How dared he stand there, like a headmaster in front of a disappointing and rebellious student, and preach to her that he wasn’t satisfied?
‘Weren’t you the one who made such a great big deal about our mutual attraction? Our sexual chemistry?’ she flung at him. ‘Didn’t you tell me that we had unfinished business and the only way we could possibly sort that out was by jumping into bed together? You have a very convenient memory when it comes to things you don’t want to remember, Raoul!’
‘Am I to be forever punished for being honest when we first reconnected, Sarah?’
‘And am I to be punished for being honest now?’ she returned just as quickly. ‘You made it clear what this marriage was going to be all about, didn’t you?’
She hated the shard of hope inside her that still wanted to give him the chance to say something—to tell her that she