'It was no trouble, Sapphie,' he a.s.sured her huskily. 'And I had asked to see you again,' he reminded her, 'but you said no.'

'For very good reason!' She nodded. 'I didn't want to see you again.' What she really wanted with this man, and what she could actually have, were two distinctly different things! 'No matter what impression you may have to the contrary, Rik, I do not indulge in affairs!' No matter what she might have told him-out of pure self-defence!-there had been no other lovers in her life but Rik. She hadn't wanted any...

But she did still want Rik; her traitorous body told her so every time she was near him. As she wanted him now...!

'I really do have to go, Rik.' Before she made a complete idiot of herself!

And they had already attracted enough attention for one evening, she realised as she saw the curious looks being sent their way by the other people in the bar.

Too much attention for Sapphie's comfort. She turned on her heel to walk quickly out of the room, across the reception area and outside into the refreshing night air, breathing it in deeply as she fought the compulsion to be sick.

'Sapphie...?'

She had no defences left, no strength to fight Rik, who had followed her outside. He took her into his arms, his brilliant blue gaze holding hers briefly before he lowered his head and his mouth claimed hers.

Oh...!

Her need for this man was just too much for her to resist, her lips parting beneath his even as her arms moved up over his shoulders and her fingers became entwined in the silky dark hair at his nape.

With a low groan in his throat Rik deepened the kiss, his arms tightening about her waist as he moulded her slender curves to the harder planes of his body.

Nothing had changed, Sapphie acknowledged achingly; she loved and wanted this man. Only this man. She realised now that she always would.

'Sapphie!' Rik husked now, his lips moving to the warm sensitivity of her throat. 'Sapphie!' he murmured achingly, his hands moving restlessly along the length of her spine, his tongue seeking the hollows at the base of her neck, his breath warm against her already overheated skin. 'I want you, Sapphie.' His voice was intent as he raised his head to look at her. 'Sapphie, please-'

'No!' she managed to gasp weakly, desperately seeking the strength to pull away from him. And failing.

'You want me too, Sapphie,' he insisted as her body continued to betray her. 'Stop fighting me, darling-'

'I am not your darling,' she burst out, at the same time pushing ineffectually at his shoulders. 'Rik, let me go! You have to let me go!' she pleaded as he made no effort to do so. 'Don't you understand it yet that there's simply no room in my life for you?' This last was intended to hurt.

And she had succeeded if the darkening of his expression was anything to go by. His arms moved up to grasp her arms. 'I didn't imagine your response just now,' he grated harshly. 'Or in Paris. Or in London when we said goodbye-'

'Exactly-we said goodbye, Rik,' she reminded him. 'As for my responding to you...' She made her voice as hard as she could. 'So you're a more than competent lover-what does that prove?' She looked at him with challenge, while all the while her heart was breaking inside at the deliberate gulf she was putting between the two of them.

Rik frowned ominously even as he returned her stare. 'What does it prove?' he bit out. 'Well, for one thing, it proves you aren't in love with anyone called Matthew!'

Sapphie felt herself sway as her knees went weak, all of the colour draining from her face as she looked at him with wide, amber-bruised eyes.

Rik watched the change that came over her with ever-increasing dismay. And puzzlement. Why had the mere mention of the other man's name have such a physical as well as emotional effect on her? What hold did this man have on Sapphie to make her react in this way?

She drew in a deep breath, seeming to gather herself up, glaring at him with fiercely intense eyes now, the colour returned to her cheeks as her anger grew. 'You're wrong; I love Matthew with every fibre of my being!'

The words were like nails in Rik's flesh, his hands falling helplessly to his sides as he stared at her disbelievingly.

'He's the last thing I think of before I go to sleep at night,' Sapphie continued emotionally. 'The first person I think of when I wake in the morning. And if, for any reason, I should ever feel sad or dispirited,' her voice grew stronger, 'then I just have to think of Matthew's smile, a smile that's only for me, and then nothing seems quite as bad as I thought it was.' Amber eyes looked steadily into his now. 'Isn't that love?'

Rik blinked dazedly. It certainly sounded like it to him; was the way he had been thinking of Sapphie since they'd met up again in Paris.

Too late.

d.a.m.n it, he was always too late!

He didn't know what to say in answer to her challenge. Telling her how he felt now seemed a waste of time. His as well as hers.

He'd had his chance with this woman five years ago, and well and truly blown it; it was too much to hope, too much to ask, that a woman as beautiful as Sapphie would still be free after all this time. Sheer b.l.o.o.d.y arrogance on his part, in fact!

He gave a humourless smile. 'It certainly sounds a lot like it!' he allowed heavily.

'Good,' she dismissed briskly. 'At least we're agreed on something! Now, if you don't mind, I'm going home.' She signalled the first cab waiting in the line outside the hotel. 'Why don't you go back inside and enjoy the party?' she suggested offhandedly as she got in the back of the cab and closed the door firmly behind her.

Rik stood on the pavement and watched the cab as it pulled away, continuing to watch it until it was swallowed up in the late-night traffic.

He couldn't move. Didn't want to move, felt as if once he went back into the hotel he would be shutting a door on Sapphie.

Instead he turned on his heel, hands in his pockets, and began to walk towards the River Thames.

He had always found something soothing about moving water; his mother had claimed it was because she swam in the ocean all the time when she was pregnant with him. Maybe she was right, because minutes later, staring down into the moon-reflected water, he felt a certain calm moving over and into him.

Sapphie said she loved this Matthew, and her sincerity had rung true. But at the same time Rik knew that she wouldn't-couldn't-have responded to him in that way if she really was in love with this other man.

But was that of any help to him in the face of Sapphie's obstinate claim that she loved Matthew?

He had absolutely no idea, he realised, of what he was going to do next.

Which was why he was in no mood, having walked back to the hotel-he had booked a suite there for the night-to get into conversation with Jerome Powers, of all people!

Sapphie had once loved this man, had been about to marry him, would have married him if Dee hadn't come along and taken him for herself. Ridiculously, Rik found himself jealous even of that past love.

'Hi, Rik,' the other man greeted him jovially, seemingly impervious to Rik's scowl. 'I just came out to check on where the four of you had got to.'

'The others have all gone home, and I'm just on my way upstairs to bed,' Rik answered Jerome flatly, just wanting to get away, to be on his own, to lick his wounds in private.

Jerome grinned unconcernedly. 'Feeling lucky, were you?' he said smugly. 'That sort of thing isn't going to work with Sapphie, I'm afraid. Once bitten, twice shy and all that.' Considering Jerome was the 'once bitten' part of that statement, Rik found his att.i.tude less than charming.

He shook his head, his hands clenched at his sides as he resisted the impulse to actually hit the older man. 'I would really rather not talk about Sapphie, if you don't mind!' He had no objection to talking with Sapphie, but he certainly wasn't going to talk about her. Especially with Jerome Powers! 'And shouldn't you be getting back to your wife rather than out here looking for Sapphie?' he prompted pointedly.

Jerome's smile widened proudly. 'Doesn't Dee-Dee look absolutely stunning this evening?' now left him absolutely cold-it was auburn fire that he wanted.

'You're right, I should get back,' Jerome agreed. 'But I wouldn't give up on Sapphie if I were you; I can see that she likes you really.'

Liking him was one thing-and he wasn't convinced that she did like him!-but Rik wanted more than that. So much more! And he wasn't even sure when-or even if-he was ever going to see her again.

Simply going and knocking on her door hadn't seemed like an option after the way they had parted at the railway station last week, which was why he had organised such a convoluted meeting this evening. But, from Sapphie's reaction, he knew for sure that something like that wasn't going to work a second time.

After the things Sapphie had said to him tonight he wasn't certain there was any point, either.

d.a.m.n it, he had never bothered with a hotel-room bar before in his life, but right now it seemed very tempting! Drunk had to be better than this aching pain.

Somewhere after the fourth gla.s.s of whisky-or could it have been the third gin?-he must have drifted off to sleep, because when the loud ringing of the telephone woke him some time the next morning he found himself slumped in an armchair, still wearing his dinner suit.

He sat up quickly, only to collapse back down again as his head threatened to explode. And still the telephone continued to ring in that mind-shattering way.

He made a grab for the receiver, dropping it with a clatter the first time, then finally managing to bring the receiver up to his ear. 'Whoever you are, please go away,' he groaned, feeling as if he had scrambled eggs for brains and cotton wool in his mouth; this getting drunk was way overrated, he decided.

A hearty laugh sounding down the telephone line made him wince. 'You don't sound too good, little brother,' Nik drawled with obvious amus.e.m.e.nt.

'I'll let you know about that later-at the moment I'm just trying to keep my head on my shoulders!'

Nik gave another chuckle. 'I gather things didn't go well after we left last night?'

Rik shut his eyes at that understatement. 'You could say that.'

'I just did,' his eldest brother returned. 'But the reason I rang is that I've just had a very interesting business meeting with Jerome-did you know he and Dee are flying back to the States this afternoon?'

Didn't know. Didn't care. And he wasn't in any sort of mood to discuss business.

'What the h.e.l.l is the time?' Rik opened his eyes and tried to focus on his wrist-watch, finally managing to make out that it was eleven-thirty; not surprising really when he must have gone to sleep-pa.s.sed out?-at around four-thirty. At least he'd had the foresight to put the 'Do Not Disturb' notice on his door! 'Nik, I'm really not awake yet, so can I call you back after I've showered and dressed?'

'No problem,' Nik accepted. 'Although I really only called to tell you that, according to Jerome, the reason Sapphie is so wary of becoming involved with anyone is that she has a young child. The father left her literally holding the baby, apparently, and...'

Rik was no longer listening, felt completely numb. And this time it had nothing to do with the drink he had consumed into the wee small hours.

A child. Sapphie had a child. What the h.e.l.l-?

'A little boy.' Nik's words penetrated again. 'By the name of Matthew.'

It wasn't another man at all that she talked of with such love, but her own child...

Rik knew what he had to do!

CHAPTER NINE.

'DO YOU ever intend to tell him that he has a son?'

Sapphie's face paled as she looked across the kitchen table at her mother. The two of them were enjoying a late-morning cup of coffee together, while Matthew happily sat on the floor at their feet, totally engrossed in a box of special building bricks he'd been given on his fourth birthday a couple of months ago.

Sapphie hadn't slept well. In fact, when Matthew had come into her bedroom this morning at his usual time of six-thirty she wasn't sure she had been to sleep at all, images of the evening running again and again through her head.

'Sorry?' She looked dazedly at her mother, not quite sure she had heard her correctly.

'I thought, at first, when you introduced me to Nik Prince and his lovely young wife that he was Matthew's father, the likeness was so noticeable. Which, considering his recent marriage, would have been something of a disaster,' her mother opined. 'But once Rik Prince arrived, I realised how mistaken I had been. So, I repeat, Sapphie,' she pressed, her frown troubled now, 'are you going to tell him about Matthew?'

Sapphie swallowed hard, having had no idea until this moment that her mother had noticed Rik's resemblance to Matthew; Joan had already been in bed, fast asleep, when Sapphie got in last night. She'd checked on Matthew before she went to bed herself and had found that he was fast asleep too, his small, loose-limbed body sprawled sideways across the bed, dark curls framing his cherubic features.

His resemblance to Rik had made her heart ache.

But she was stunned now by her mother's quietly posed question; it simply hadn't occurred to her that once her mother had seen Rik she would realise he was Matthew's father!

She swallowed hard. 'I hadn't intended to, no,' she said gruffly, knowing there was absolutely no point in trying to deny something that was so glaringly obvious to someone who knew Matthew so well and had now met Rik.

Her mother sipped her own coffee before answering. 'Why not?'

'You can ask me that?' Sapphie gasped, shooting a concerned glance at Matthew as he looked up curiously, her rea.s.suring smile enough for him to go back to his building bricks. 'Can you imagine what that would do to Matthew's life?' she asked her mother softly. 'An English mother and an American father; he would become a human ping-pong ball, bouncing across the Atlantic!' She looked worried at the thought.

'It may not come to that-'

'Of course it will come to that!' Sapphie insisted agitatedly.

'But Rik Prince so obviously likes you-'

'Well, of course he likes me-he wants to go to bed with me!' Again, she could have added, but didn't.

Her mother looked troubled. 'I've never pressed you for the ident.i.ty of Matthew's father; I've tried to respect the fact that you didn't want to talk about him and told myself that you knew best. But now that I've actually met him...!' Joan shook her head. 'It doesn't seem right somehow. He seems like a nice man, a responsible man-'

'He's both those things,' Sapphie allowed; after all, she was in love with him-she could hardly make him out to be some sort of monster!

'I thought so,' her mother rejoined. 'Couldn't the two of you try to make a go of it? Perhaps even get married-'

'And live happily ever after?' Sapphie cut in fiercely. 'This is the real world, Mother, not a fairy story!'

'I do know that, Sapphie,' Joan answered quietly. 'I'm fifty-two years old, and I've been widowed twice; of course I know that.'

Of course she did, Sapphie acknowledged guiltily; her mother never talked of loneliness, always seemed happy, kept herself occupied with her bridge and gardening clubs. But that didn't mean she hadn't sometimes been lonely and unhappy during the last twelve years.

Although Matthew, Sapphie knew, had helped to fill some of that gaping hole in her mother's life; Joan would be someone else who would be hugely affected if Rik was told of his son, though she doubted her mother had thought that far ahead...

'I know you do.' She reached over and squeezed her mother's hand understandingly. 'It's just-' She broke off as the ringing of the doorbell interrupted them.

'That will be the postman.' Her mother stood up. 'I'm expecting a parcel.'

Sapphie watched her mother leave before glancing down at Matthew, maternal pride swelling in her chest; he really was a beautiful boy, and so happily secure in the world they had made for him here. She would not allow him to become a tug-of-love child, or his security to be ripped asunder. No matter how much she might love his father...

'We've a visitor,' her mother said woodenly as she came back into the kitchen, her face slightly pale. 'You've got a visitor, Sapphie,' she added softly. 'I've put him in the sitting-room.'

Sapphie tensed. 'Him?' she repeated warily.

But she knew who her visitor was without her mother needing to answer; only one person could have had this effect upon her mother: Rik.