“That sounds so cold-blooded and it’s not, Jane. I swear to you it’s not,” she pleaded. “What I’m sharing with Jack is very hot and passionate. On both sides.”
Silence.
Sally sighed. “I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you, but please don’t spoil it for me, Jane.”
A long sigh at her end, then anxiously, “I hope you’re being careful, Sally. You mustn’t get pregnant. That wouldn’t be good.”
“I know. I’m on the pill to make sure nothing unplanned happens. Don’t worry about it.”
“I worry about you. I don’t think this will last on his part.”
“Whether it does or whether it doesn’t, I’m having a brilliant time with Jack right now. And he’s asked me to stay with him in Sydney when I’m competing at the Royal Easter Show. That means he isn’t keeping me tucked away here on the side, like Mum said.”
Another silence.
“Jane, it feels so right. Let it be. Okay?” Sally appealed with all her heart, not wanting her sister off-side with her.
“I’m frightened you’ll get hurt,” came the anguished reply.
“If I do, then I’ll expect my nurse sister to help fix me up,” she said lightly, trying to lessen the angst.
“You can always count on me, Sally. Always.”
The fervent assertion was something positive to end the call on. “I know,” she answered softly. “Love you, Jane. Always.”
And Sally knew she would love Jack Maguire always. True love didn’t get switched on and off. He might not love her, though it felt as though he did. They had a connection that went beyond sex. That had to mean something. But was it a good or bad connection in his mind? Was he getting some dark satisfaction from who she was?
She couldn’t quite shake off what Jane had said. Jack had admitted he’d wanted her all along—the whole experience of her—and he’d bought time to make that happen with the year-long contract. And quite possibly the redecorating of the master suite had been aimed at seducing her.
He hadn’t really cared about what had been done, except in so far as it was right for her—a master planner setting up the scene for a successful seduction, making her the mistress of this house in every sense—no trace of her mother left in place—a grateful little mistress who waited on him, ready to give him pleasure until he’d had enough of it.
Her heart cringed at this picture of herself. Her mind argued there had been no seduction. They’d already had sex before the redecorating had been completed. Unless the romantic dinner at Kirkton Park had been a softening-up measure, deliberately promoting the attraction she felt so she’d be willing to have more of him—a very seductive dinner with champagne and roses.
Was it only sex with Jack?
Right now I can’t have enough of you.
A chilling little shiver ran down her spine as she remembered those words, spoken so hotly against her mouth.
When would he have enough?
By the end of the year?
It made her feel sick.
And that was wrong.
She was happy with him.
She wanted to stay happy with him.
I won’t think that horrid dark stuff! I won’t! she told herself fiercely. I’ll just take each day as it comes and love every minute I have with him.
She took that resolution with her when she travelled down to Sydney for the Royal Easter Show, determined that nothing would spoil their time together.
She loved his penthouse apartment at Woolloomooloo with its magnificent view of Sydney Harbour, loved being with him, sharing his bed and the excitement of the show. They flew in by helicopter each day Sally was competing in events, and in her free time, they walked through the exhibition halls together, ate pink fairy floss as a laughing reminder of childhood treats, won prizes at various stalls—all great fun.
She did well in the minor showjumping events, collecting a first and a third with her second-string horses. The big one, carrying points for inclusion in the World Cup team, was on the last day, and if she won again on Midnight Magic, a blue ribbon would truly cap this trip to Sydney.
The top-class event was scheduled for midafternoon. Sally had a light lunch with Jack, who then left her with Tim to oversee Midnight Magic’s preparation and get her mind focused on leading her horse to perform perfectly. Jack would be watching them from the grandstand with the best vantage point for viewing the showjumping. She knew where his seat was, knew he would be willing her to win. She was riding a high, and hoped it would go even higher.
“Jack Maguire?”
The sharp call of his name jerked his attention away from the main ring where Sally would soon be competing. He frowned at the aggressive tone, not recognising the voice, and was surprised to see it had come from Sally’s younger sister, the mouse-like Jane, who was making her away along the row of seats towards him.
Sally had made no mention of her sister coming to watch. Probably an impulse thing on Jane’s part. She didn’t look pleased to see him here. In fact, she looked distinctly angry, her hands clenched in fighting mode, her slender body stiff with tension, her brown eyes not shying away from him today. They were blazing with the intent to confront.
“Jane,” he said, rising to his feet and acknowledging her with a nod, curious about her reaction to seeing him and what was behind it. He gestured to the seat he’d bought for Sally to watch other events—vacant while she was competing. “Would you like to join me?”
“Thank you, I would,” she replied with gritty determination. “I have quite a bit to say to you.”
She certainly had the bit between the teeth, Jack thought, plonking herself in the seat beside his and barely waiting for him to resume his before breaking into an impassioned speech, her eyes hotly accusing.
“Sally never did anything bad to you. She’s never done anything bad to anyone. And it’s terribly, terribly wrong of you to take her down over some dark sense of injustice to you.”
Take her down? This was nonsense. He’d set Sally up with everything she wanted. And Jane was benefiting from it, as well. She certainly wasn’t acting like a victim today.
“It wasn’t Sally’s fault that your father adopted her and gave her what you were more entitled to have,” she raved on. “It wasn’t her fault that our mother kept you an outcast. To make her pay for your pain is just…just wicked.”
She was so incensed she spluttered into momentary speechlessness, giving Jack the chance to get an incisive word in. “Sally is not paying for anything.”