Sins of Sarah (12 page)

Five minutes later she opened them to find Nick leaning over her. 'Oh, God, no!' she moaned, rolling away from him, shielding her head. 'No more rows. Nick. I can't take much more.'

'I haven't come to row,' he assured her. 'I came to see if you were OK.' Her instinctive recoil made him feel really guilty - doubly so after the angry row he had just had with Cress over the treatment he'd handed out to her. She had ended by literally ordering him to sort it out, and, well as she knew him. Cress rarely dared to lose her temper with Nick.

'I would be if I was left alone for five minutes,' Sarah snapped. 'Oh, I'm sorry, Nick. I didn't mean to be late, I honestly didn't. Things just got on top of me. I really can't cope any more.' Nick sat on the bed beside her and pulled her towards him, holding her in a grip that left no room for manoeuvre. But in her low state she had no energy left to fight him anyway. The relief that he wasn't shouting was enough. She leant her head on his shoulder in a gesture of defeat, and as he felt her relax against him he instinctively stroked her hair, gently, as he would a child.

'I'm sorry too,' he admitted. 'I should never have lost my temper like that this morning. It was a stupid thing to do. I should have known better.'

'You did warn me,' Sarah reminded him shamefacedly.

'That's no excuse. Oh, hell, Sarah, this has got to stop. It's doing the film no good at all. What on earth got into you to be so silly this morning?'

'I'm trying so hard,' she whispered. 'But even when I think I've got it right you moan at me as if you hate me, and everything I do. I just ran away this weekend to try and forget it all.'

'You are getting it right, I promise. The rushes are marvellous. I wanted to tell you on Friday how good you are and you wouldn't let me. I phoned you all weekend. Where on earth were you?' 'Sailing a boat and worrying about sunburn marks!' she admitted ruefully.

Laughing with relief. Nick tilted her chin up. 'As every good actress should! I do like you, Sarah. I probably like you too much for my own peace of mind.' And to her complete surprise, he kissed her, gently at first, with lightly teasing lips brushing over hers as his hands held her face captive. And then the kiss deepened into something harder - closer to passion she realized, startled. It felt astonishingly good to be held so confidently, and suddenly she desperately wanted him to go on. But he let her go just as quickly as he had started, as if he regretted it.

Standing up, he pulled her to her feet and led her into the main area of the caravan. 'I brought you a sandwich,' he said, matter-of-factly, as if the last few minutes had never occurred. 'You must eat something, even with a hangover.' He poured coffee for them and settled casually opposite her at the table, stirring sugar into his.

'You do have a weakness, then?' Sarah couldn't resist teasing as she watched him.

He laughed. 'I have many weaknesses - too many - according to my wife! How about you?' Despite herself, Sarah smiled back.

'You know my weaknesses. Nick, you trade on them.'

'Maybe.' He looked serious for a moment. 'But it was more than my bullying that upset you over the weekend, wasn't it? It's this Friday that's getting to you, isn't it?'

'Partly . . .' She hesitated. 'Well, yes, mostly, I suppose.'

'Look, Sarah, it has to be done eventually.' Nick put a hand gently over hers. 'Has your cycle gone awry or something? If so, I can postpone it for a week or so, if it will help.'

'No, no, it's nothing like that. I. . . I've been on the pill for a year or so.' Sarah averted her eyes, embarrassed at his candour and surprised at her own ability to discuss something so personal. She was on the pill simply to avoid any such problem in her working life. 'I just find it difficult to take my clothes off in front of other people - even for sunbathing. I know it sounds odd, especially for a dancer, but it's just something I've never done. I had terrible problems getting dancing work, because they always wanted topless girls and I wasn't prepared to do it. I know I have to do the scene, I know we've talked about it over and over again, but the nearer it gets the worse it feels.'

'Oh, hell! Sarah, is that all? Why, for God's sake?'

'What do you mean is that all? Sarah was furious. 'This is my body we're talking about, and I hate it!'

'Yes, and there's nothing wrong with it!' Nick leant across the table and jerked her up again, dragging her into the dressing area. His hands were swift and savage as he wrenched her robe undone and ripped open the buttons of the camisole she was wearing, exposing her breasts to the long mirror in front of them.

With her arms pinioned by the sleeves he forced her to face the mirror, to look at herself and her naked breasts.

'I see you in that skimpy bikini almost every morning,' he said firmly. 'That doesn't bother you, so why should this? Shall I go on?' His hand went to the petticoat fastening.

'No!' Sarah bit her lip and faced him through the mirror, wanting to cry with embarrassment, but Nick held her firmly, refusing to let go.

'Look at yourself,' he demanded. 'Tell me what you think is wrong with you? Look hard, Sarah. You are truly beautiful. Accept it. Be proud of it. Of course it'll be difficult - for a few minutes anyway. But the crew are well aware of that. We've all done this before.' He relented then, and let her go, pulling the robe together as he did so.

'I haven't, though. Nick,' she said. 'And I've only done it once in real life! Not that even that was exactly willing . . . Oh, technically it wasn't rape ... but it felt like it!'

'What happened? Am I allowed to know?' Nick's arm tightened on her waist, and to her surprise she found it incredibly soothing.

'Gerard - my boss - in a club I worked in - he took a fancy to me.' She shuddered. 'He called me into his office one day, and, well, to cut a long story short, I gave in. It was better than getting hurt! Daddy came the next day and fetched me, 1 never went back. I got into RADA and gave up dancing for ages until I got into Cats.'

'Oh, Sarah!' Nick was horrified. 'No wonder you're so frightened! I'm really sorry to have landed you with this. You should have told me.'

'What good would it have done?' she demanded. 'Would you really have changed the script just for that? I'll get by, Nick, never fear. I don't go back on my word any more than you do. Even if I have to get drunk again to do it!'

'I think we can forget that idea!' He was still holding her by the waist, and as he smiled down at her Sarah began to laugh. .

'Maybe I should insist that everyone else strips off as well, then,' she suggested wickedly.

Nick shook with laughter. 'Not if you want to keep a straight face.' He shuddered. 'Have you really looked at the lighting grips?' .

Sarah cast her mind to Stan and Denis, with their enormous beer guts, and leant against Nick, her laughter bubbling out.

'That's better,' he approved. He could hear the voices of the crew as they returned from lunch, and he paused briefly to brush his mouth temptingly over hers again before he let her go. 'Stay at Hastings tonight?' he suggested. 'I think we should clear the air a bit, and I can make sure you get a decent night's sleep for a change.' After the morning's exchanges she did not have the nerve to argue, and accepted his invitation politely.

'One thing, though. Nick,' she added slyly. Nick paused, puzzled. 'Would you tell Jenny that you ripped all the buttons off my camisole?' It was Nick's turn to look embarrassed.

'I will if she gives you a hard time,' he promised shamefacedly. 'Try and get dressed before she sees it, there's a good girl. She's even fiercer than Cress!'

* * *

'You look a bit more cheerful,' James greeted her, when she went back onto the set.

'I feel it,' she assured him. "Though I must admit this morning I felt like you look now.' Patti had done a superb job of making James look ill and hollow-eyed.

'Frightened Cress to death!' James quipped. 'But I could get used to this kind of acting.' He lay back on the sofa while the prop-man folded blankets around him. 'I just wish it wasn't so hot!'

'You can't have everything!' Sarah was laughing again, and they were all relieved to see it.

Even with the agony of being on her knees all afternoon, she turned in a beautiful performance. It was a long, difficult speech, with no visible reaction to it until right at the end, when all James had to do was smile and lift his hand to her face. To a man the crew burst into spontaneous applause as they achieved their final take, while James pulled her down on to the sofa with him and kissed her.

'Race you back to the house!' he challenged, rolling her back onto the floor. 'I need the exercise!'

'I've got carpet burn on my knees!' Sarah rejoined in excuse, but she obediently swung up her skirts and sprinted after him up the slope to the house.

Cress had dashed up to London after her set-to with Nick, and she arrived back just as the two were changing.

She went straight to Sarah and hugged her, her own harsh words forgotten, and was relieved that Nick had obviously listened to her. She had even remembered to collect the things Sarah wanted from her flat.

'I'm staying here tonight,' Sarah admitted, when every-one was talking about dinner plans.

'Oh, yes? He making up for yelling at you?' James teased, and laughed at her sudden red face. 'You can't hide that, Sarah. I'm afraid it's going to be a legend you two will have to live with. Cheer up! Just pray it doesn't hit the gossip columns.'

'And that Maxie doesn't get hold of it,' put in Ronnie. 'Imagine what he'd do with it, especially the way he hates Nick!'

'Stop it, you two,' said Cress crisply. 'Don't take any notice of them, Sarah, they're just trying to provoke you.' Sarah was still worrying about it as she walked through to the main house, meeting the housekeeper in the hall.

'I put your things in the room you had before,' the efficient Mrs Johnson told her. 'Nick asked for dinner at seven-thirty, as Sir Charles will be late back and he thought you might be too hungry to wait.' Sarah wondered idly if Nick had known Charles would be late, and she went upstairs, smiling.

Bathed, with the sea-water washed out of her hair, she pulled on the voile summer dress she had taken with her to Lymington and not worn. Not bothering to plait her still damp hair, she slipped her feet into the soft pink suede shoes that matched her dress, and went back downstairs with it cascading down her back.

'I hesitate to offer you a drink,' Nicks aid, smiling as she walked into the drawing room.

'As long as it's not champagne,' she told him solemnly, 'I think I could manage one.' He had been a model of patience all afternoon, and was now being a perfect host in Charles's absence. The row with Cress had shaken him to the core. She had forced him to look realistically at his attraction for Sarah. Now it was as if a huge weight had been lifted, and he felt able to relax with her at last.

After dinner they walked down to the lake, with Charles's labrador Hoover in tow. Sarah took bread to feed the ducks, as she often did at lunchtimes, but Hoover was a total hazard, chasing the bread into the water and sending geese and ducks rushing for cover.

Nick threw a large stick for him to chase, but he preferred the water - and shaking himself all over them when he came out. 'Bloody stupid animal!' he cursed. 'He's worse than our dog. He'll be here as well this week. Diana's going off to Portugal with her parents, and Boots drives the kennels crazy so I've been lumbered with him.'

'Why is this dog called Hoover?' Sarah brushed the water off her wet dress. 'After President Hoover?' That would be typical of Charles, somehow.

'No.' Nick laughed. 'After the vacuum cleaner! You should see him eat! And he has hot air between his ears too!' He looked at his watch. 'I think I should do my heavy act and send you to bed early. You've been yawning all evening.' Sarah was exhausted, but she hated to admit he was right. He certainly didn't miss much.

Back in the house, he took her into the library and found her the book that the film was based on. Sarah drifted around the oak-panelled walls, exclaiming with pleasure at the paintings and the beauty of the room. "That's a Stubbs, isn't it? Oh, and a Romney?' Then she paused in front of a modem portrait of a beautiful dark-haired girl in a white evening dress. 'How lovely - who is she?' 'Natasha Hastings,' Nick said briefly. 'Charles's wife. She died.'

'How? She must have been very young.' Sarah was shocked.

'A car accident. She was twenty-six. It's rarely talked about now.' Sarah longed to ask more but his attitude did not encourage it. She wisely left it alone and took the book from him. Hesitating, she lifted up her face, uncertain eyes meeting his.

'Oh, Christ!' Nick exclaimed, and took her into his arms. 'I'm about to make the biggest mistake of my life!' For the second time that day he kissed her. Not the momentary brush of the lips of earlier, but the searching kiss of a man who desperately wanted to kiss her, and he stunned her with his urgency. Almost in shock at his reaction, her lips parted with the pressure of his mouth. Intense, expert, his tongue coiled around hers as his hands came up to cup her face, his thumbs caressing the corners of her mouth as he did so.

Her trembling legs were hardly holding her up as Nick fell back into a huge leather armchair, taking her with him, breathing soft kisses along the line of her throat, and she shivered when he gently pushed aside the straps of her dress to release her breasts to his exploring mouth.