forever, and it was getting colder. Reluctantly she turned and retraced her steps but when the farm came in sight and she saw that theLand Rover was still there, instead of heading for the house she walked towards the large attached barn.
In the days when Flaws Farm had possessed a small dairy herd this barn had housed them but now it was empty apart from the farmyard hens whose eggs were purely for domestic use. She had kept her pony, Baron, in here and had spent many hours grooming him, preparing him for local agricultural shows. They had even won a couple of prizes. Sighing faintly she wandered deeper into the barn stopping beside the ladder into the hayloft. As a teenager she had retreated up there to read and daydream. The sound of familiar footsteps made her body tense. Even without turning round to look she knew who it was.
‘Something told me you might be in here.’ Blake’s voice was mocking. ‘You always did use it as a bolt-hole.’
She turned round, trying to blank all emotion out of her features, while Blake studied her with a slow, insolent appraisal that set her teeth on edge. Inwardly shaking with nerves she refused to let him see how much his presence disturbed her. ‘Finished?’ she asked sourly. ‘What exactly were you doing Blake?’
‘Just wondering why you choose to wear such masculine clothes.’ It was a blatantly challenging statement when coupled with his open study of her, and to her resentment she knew she had already been betrayed into a response to it, even if it was only in the increased stiffening of her muscles.
‘These happen to be the only clothes I had this morning. No doubt you like your women dulcet and feminine,compliant and obedient, but I’m not like that Blake. Not any more.’
‘No, you’re not are you?’ There was just a suspicion of laughter trailing in his voice, enough to make her stare back at him aggressively and refuse to give way as he came towards her. ‘I also like them aroused and responsive—just as you are at the moment.’
The explosive denial trembling on her lips died as he reached forward, his thumb stroking along her throat to rest on the point where her pulse thudded betrayingly. ‘Anger is a form of arousal isn’t it?’ he mocked lightly. ‘And you are angry with me, aren’t you Sapphire?’
‘Not as much as I am with myself,’ she told him curtly, drawing away. She wasn’t going to give Blake any advantages this time. ‘What I said to you last night still holds good, I don’t want to marry you.’
‘But you told your father that you did.’
‘No. I told him that I was doing. I didn’t mean to, but before I could retract you arrived.’
‘And now?’ He asked the question softly, watching her with eyes that gave nothing of his own feelings away.
‘I’ll have to go through with it—you know that. You saw how he reacted. Dear God, even now I can’t believe that I’m going to lose him.’ She paced distractedly, too strung up to give way to tears and yet needing to release some of her nervous energy.
‘And what about the boyfriend—have you told him ?’
‘Alan? No … not yet, but he’s coming up for his car soon, I’ll tell him then.’
‘How soon is soon?’ Blake asked idly. ‘Because in three days’ time we’ll be married.’
Three days! She looked up at him not even attempting to hide her shock. ‘So soon?’
Blake shrugged his shoulders and against her will Sapphire found herself comparing the masculine breadth of them to Alan’s. Even dressed in faded jeans and an old woollen checked shirt Blake possessed a lithe masculine sensuality that Alan would never have, for all his expensive tailoring Alan believed that appearances were important and Sapphire wouldn’t have denied it, but Blake was one of those men who could afford to break life’s rules. Angrily she pushed the thought away.
‘Why wait?’ Blake asked laconically. ‘The sooner it’s done the happier your father will be.’
‘He told