Part 8 (1/2)

'Trust me,' he whispered, cradling and stroking her. 'I want this to be so good for you, better than it ever was with Tony. You're going to forget him, Sarah.'

It was like a fist in her stomach. She felt choked with the nausea that rose in her. The heat that had flushed her skin seconds before was replaced by a chill that left her clammy and s.h.i.+vering. Wounded, yet outraged, she tried to scramble out of his embrace.

'Better than what with Tony!' she demanded in a strangled voice. 'You think I sleep with him, don't you!'

Startled by the intensity of her reaction, Guy pulled back from her. 'Don't try to tell me,' he scoffed, 'that you're going to plead innocence:- not after the display of expertise I've just witnessed! I've seen the two of you together. I heard you accept his invitation to stay with him in England. In fact, you made very sure we all heard you, didn't you?'

'No!' she pleaded. 'It's not that way at all-you don't understand!'

'Oh, come on, Sarah!' he taunted. 'Everyone knows what an aphrodisiac wealth and power is. Why should you be any more immune to it than other women?'

The brutal cutting off of pleasure was a physical pain. And so was the understanding that her first true response to sensuality, given so lovingly and unashamedly, had been perceived as the soulless performance of a seasoned professional. What she had offered him so ingenuously was being tossed back at her with an experienced man's scorn and disrespect.

At least the darkness hid her tears from him. 'I loathe you,' she said. 'I think I've hated you and your insufferable ego since I first saw you!'

'Maybe you do,' he jeered. 'But that didn't stop me from exciting you.'

'You don't excite me!' she shot back, knowing even as she spoke how ridiculous her protest must have sounded. Fluttering in his arms like a bird snared in a net, she pushed him away and huddled miserably as far from him as the narrow confines of the sleeping bag would allow.

The Arctic sun rose clear and bright, igniting a billion sparks in the unsullied snow that blanketed the land. Crawling on hands and knees from the mouth of the tunnel, Sarah blinked in pain at the brilliance of the morning.

She stood still for a very long time, staring at the glory of the untouched snow, and marvelled that they had survived the night. At least, physic-ally, they had come through. But in no other way had she and Guy survived, she knew with a bitter, aching heart. Whatever relations.h.i.+p they had once struggled to maintain was now shattered, completely and for ever. The radiance of the dawn held only mockery for her.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

'Terrified!' p.r.o.nounced Katie. 'I'd be quaking in my boots. But having a man like Captain Court to look after you must have been a comfort.'

'Uh-huh...' murmured Sarah noncommittally.

'I'll bet he took right over,' Katie breezed on. 'And what about the hunters at the camp? You haven't told us anything-'

'Look!' cried Sarah, relief flooding her voice. 'Here's Mr Dunn. Perhaps he can tell us what's happening.'

Ever since the two young women had met in the lounge that afternoon, Katie had been trying to extract information from Sarah about the three-hour excursion that had turned into an overnight drama. Sarah had dodged and weaved as best she could, but she was fast running out of stories about the joys of spotting a snow goose or a seal sunning itself.

'This is a far cry from the water we came in through, Mr Dunn,' she said, raising binoculars to her eyes and sweeping the vast ice field.

'Yes, indeed,' agreed Angus, wiping greasy hands on well-used coveralls. 'That delay at Melville put us square into winter and no mistake about it! We're breaking ice up to five feet in places.'

Sarah listened with relief to the chatter about the heavy weather that had dogged them since they left the island. She wanted desperately to distract herself from memories of Guy's abortive and humiliating lovemaking. Yet just a single flash of remembrance of his touch on her skin held the power to enflame her. With an exercise of will that stretched taut the sinews of her neck, she dragged her attention back to her companions'.

'But the ice-that's no problem, is it?' she asked with forced interest.

'Oh, no,' the First Engineer replied, smiling. 'We're built for worse than this!'

Their first day out, the bands of ice on either side of the strait had thickened rapidly, narrowing the water lane until at last the Enterprise had struck solid resistance. Low, dense ice fog had begun to plague them. The cold was never less than cruel for any of the crew unlucky enough to draw outside duty under the coa.r.s.e woollen clouds.

And there was also the new, silent presence on the Enterprise that affected the crew's spirits far more than the weather: the millions of gallons of super-cold liquid gas that now lay beneath them. But at least those nerve-jangling, unpredictable alarm bells signalling another of Guy's drills were silent for this leg of the journey. Still, he remained a constant observer, forever moving, monitoring, observing every procedure. Tony, in contrast, was surprisingly relaxed now that the snag at the pumping station was behind them. He was looking forward with relish to a triumphant arrival in Nova Scotia, with welcoming ceremonies and television coverage.

Sarah wished she could share Tony's elation, but her thoughts kept returning to their volatile cargo and the battering it was receiving. Time after time, the Enterprise's bow drove up on to the ice pack. There was a pause, then the ice fractured and gave way under the tremendous weight of the steel-banded hull. Released, the s.h.i.+p fell seaward, having carved a little more of its tortuous path.

By late afternoon when Sarah reached Tony's suite for a pre-dinner drink, the constant heaving of the decks had begun to affect her stomach.

'I think,' she told him as he greeted her, 'that I'd better sit down... quickly!'

Tony smiled down on her sympathetically. 'We'll be clearing the ice any time now. Just hold on a little longer.'

'I'll try,' she replied, laying a hand gingerly on her stomach. 'But I don't know if I can handle that drink, Tony.'

'Nonsense. It'll relax you. You've been tense ever since you returned from that ill-advised excursion with my adventuresome cousin. Really, Sarah, every time I think about that I get so angry I could-'

'Tony, please. It was no one's fault... except, perhaps, mine. I was the one who made such a big fuss about seeing something of the island before we left. Anyway, no harm was done, and I did get some good atmosphere material for the story. I expect I'm just feeling the pressure of the deadline coming up.'

Tony looked at her solicitously and picked up the tiny porcelain hand that lay across her knee. He had touched her hand before, of course. But this time Sarah could feel a difference. His grasp was more insistent, almost possessive.

Perversely, Tony's touch brought an unwelcome picture of Guy to her mind's eye. She gave a slight shake of her swinging auburn hair as if to rid herself of his spectre. Impulsively, as if she could somehow punish Guy, she returned the pressure of Tony's hand.

'I've neglected you these last few days,' he said. 'But I'm going to make up for that when you join me in England. You haven't forgotten your promise?'

'No,' she said, with a sad, twisted smile. She looked up at him and realised that he was going to kiss her. Her reaction was curiously coldblooded, as if she was the dispa.s.sionate observer of an experiment. Would she respond to him as she had to Guy?

She watched his gently parted lips move slowly towards her, then closed her eyes and accepted him in a robot-like reply. Encouraged by her pa.s.siveness, he became more demanding until she was finally jolted out of her numbness and murmured a small protest.

'All right, my darling, I won't press you. Just let me hold you for a moment-please.' He eased his pressure on her but did not release her entirely. He laid his cheek on top of her head and stroked her hair soothingly.

How could she rebuff him? He was ardent, yet so gentle. He accepted her silence as consent and continued to hold her head against his shoulder, not suspecting what sadness and conflict lay at the core of her muteness.

What am I doing? she thought, confusion knitting her brow. Any normal woman would be flattered by the attentions of Tony Freeland. He was all the things that Katie had so enthusiastically enumerated, and offered to open the door for her to a delightful interlude in her life.

Yet she was so curiously unmoved. Why did she feel so frozen, so cut off from her emotions and her body? Guy had no trouble in making her respond to his blatant, aggressive advances. The memory of them made her cheeks flame. She twisted her face into Tony's suit jacket so that he wouldn't see the colour that spread down her neck and think it came for him.

Her bruised ego craved the balm of Tony's affection. Yet she felt such a fraud in his arms! It was selfish and deceitful, and she hated it.

Tony's gla.s.s slid the length of the coffee table and crashed into Sarah's, splas.h.i.+ng sherry over the hem of her skirt.

'Oh, Sarah, I'm sorry,' he began.

'It's all right,' she said quickly, guilty at the relief she felt in being free of his arms. 'I'll get a napkin.'

As she stood, the roll of the s.h.i.+p sent her staggering, and only Tony's lunge for her kept her on her feet. The two stood clinging to each other, struggling for footing as the Enterprise righted herself and began a rolling pitch to the opposite side.

'Tony, look out there!' Sarah cried, pointing to the windows.

They had broken free of the ice-bound straits into the waters of Baffin Bay. The open sea was horrifyingly vast and green and cold. The sky was an ugly, mottled purple. Huge ice floes swirled slowly in the Greenland current, hinting darkly at their hidden power to grind and destroy. Immense swells surged against the hull, shooting high before raining down on the deck.

'A little humbling, wouldn't you say?' asked Sarah, hugging herself as a s.h.i.+ver travelled the length of her spine.