Читать книгу Forbidden Surrender - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 5

IT was all a puzzle to Sara, one there seemed no answer to. She mentioned it to her aunt, but she dismissed it as a coincidence.

‘But even her fiancée thought I was this other girl,’ Sara frowned.

Her aunt shrugged. ‘It was dark in there, it was probably just a case of mistaken identity.’

‘It feels weird to be so like another person.’

‘Maybe you aren’t really,’ Aunt Susan dismissed. ‘As I said, the lighting probably wasn’t very good in this club you went to. Mr Thorne’s girl-friend probably has blonde hair too, and in a bad light maybe you do have a resemblance to this other girl. I should just forget about it, Sara.’

‘I suppose so,’ she sighed. ‘Although it might be interesting to actually see this Marie Lindlay.’

‘Is that her name?’

‘Eddie says it is,’ she nodded.

‘I—Oh, damn!’ Her aunt swore as she dropped a cup, watching in dismay as it smashed on the floor. ‘One of my best set, too,’ she tutted, bending down to pick up the pieces. ‘I hope they’re still making these, I’d like to buy a replacement for it.’ She put the pieces in the bin.

‘I’m sure they do.’ Sara swept up the shattered fragments still scattered on the floor.

Her uncle came into the room. ‘Did I hear a crash just now?’

‘It’s as well I hadn’t fallen over,’ his wife snapped. ‘It took you long enough to get in here.’

He looked taken aback by this unexpected attack. ‘I knew Sara was in here helping you wash up.’ He frowned. ‘It was only a crash, Susan, not a thump.’

‘It’s all right, Uncle Arthur,’ Sara soothed. ‘Aunt Susan’s just broken one of her best china cups, and I’m afraid she’s rather upset about it. Take her into the lounge and I’ll make you both a nice cup of tea.’

He nodded. ‘Come on, Susan. It was only a cup,’ he chided as they went through to the lounge.

‘It wasn’t that, Arthur. It was——’ The kitchen door closed, cutting off the rest of the conversation.

Poor Aunt Susan, the tea-set obviously meant a lot to her. It was rather lovely to look at, very delicately made, with an old-fashioned floral pattern. She would see if she could get a replacement this afternoon when she went shopping.

‘Where’s Eddie taking you tonight?’ her uncle asked as she took their cups of tea into them.

‘I’m not seeing him tonight.’ She had turned down his invitation for this evening, deciding that three nights in a row was just too much. ‘But he’s taking me out for a drive tomorrow,’ she added ruefully. Eddie had been adamant about seeing her again, and she had finally agreed to let him drive her to see some of the English countryside.

London was interesting, there was certainly plenty to see, but she was well aware that there was a lot more to England than its capital. Her mother had never forgotten the greenness of the countryside here, it had been the one thing she really missed by living in America, and Sara was determined to see some of it before she left.

‘As long as it isn’t another casino,’ her aunt shook her head disapprovingly.

Sara laughed. ‘It was quite an experience.’

‘Not one I’d like to see repeated,’ Aunt Susan said sternly. ‘I gave him a piece of my mind last night after you’d gone to bed. Taking you to a gambling hall, indeed!’ she added disgustedly.

‘You make it sound like a den of iniquity,’ her husband teased.

‘I’m sure Rachel wouldn’t have approved of Sara going to such a place, and I don’t either. And Eddie introduced Sara to that mad friend Pete of his.’

Uncle Arthur smiled. ‘He isn’t mad, Susan. A bit of an extrovert maybe, but there’s no harm in him.’

It wasn’t like her aunt to be bad-tempered, and Sara could only assume that breaking the cup had upset her more than they had realised.

She managed to find a replacement that afternoon, although she seemed to have walked most of London to find it. Her aunt was suitably pleased with her purchase.

‘Eddie telephoned while you were out.’ Her aunt put the cup with the rest of the set.

Sara looked up. ‘Did he happen to say what he wanted?’

Her aunt smiled. ‘He didn’t ‘‘happen” to say at all—I asked him. He said something about a party tonight.’

‘I see,’ she bit her lip. ‘He’ll be calling back, then?’

‘Mm. Soon, I should think.’

Ten minutes later a call came through, only this time it was Pete. ‘Do you fancy going to a party?’ he asked her.

‘I think Eddie intends inviting me to one,’ she refused.

‘On my behalf. I’m the one who wants to take you to the party, Eddie has to work.’

Sara bristled angrily. ‘I went out with Eddie because he’s my uncle’s nephew, I don’t expect to be passed around to Eddie’s friends!’

‘Hey,’ Pete chided, ‘that isn’t the idea at all.’

‘Then what is?’ she snapped.

‘I suddenly realised why I thought you’d worked in this country before, and I wondered if you would like to meet your double.’

‘Double …?’ she repeated dazedly.

‘Mm, you look exactly like Marie Lindlay.’

Sara frowned. Again someone had noticed the similarity. Her curiosity was aroused once again. To be able to see this girl, to see exactly what their similarity was, would be fun, even if this apparent likeness turned out to be a myth in the end.

‘What sort of party is it?’ she delayed making a decision.

‘Given to amuse the idle rich,’ he scorned.

‘Then how did you get an invitation?’ she teased, her anger leaving her.

‘Naughty!’ Pete chided. ‘Actually I’m a friend of a friend, and I have it on good authority that Marie Lindlay is going to be there, with her fiancée, no less.’

Dominic Thorne. It would be interesting to see his face when he saw her, and at least she would be able to prove to him that his fiancéee was telling the truth when she denied being at the club the evening before. Besides, she just wanted to get another look at him, to see if he really was as good-looking as her-imagination told her he was.

‘Okay,’ she agreed. ‘What shall I wear?’ She didn’t want to turn up wearing completely the wrong outfit.

‘As little as possible.’ She could almost hear Pete grinning. ‘To tell you the truth, I usually take one of my models to these parties, and she wears the most shocking clothes. I like to make an entrance,’ he added with homour.

Another one! ‘Right.’ Sara knew exactly the dress she was going to wear. ‘I’ll be ready at eight.’

‘Make it nine,’ Pete advised. ‘These parties rarely get going until at least ten-thirty.’

‘And the later we are the more of an entrance we can make,’ Sara guessed dryly, knowing this from her experiences with Barry. ‘Okay, nine it is.’

She was searching through her clothes in her wardrobe when her aunt came into the room. She had just found the gold dress and matching cape, and she quickly buried them beneath her other clothing. Aunt Susan would certainly not approve.

‘Dinner’s ready,’ her aunt told her.

‘So am I,’ Sara smiled. ‘I’m starving!’

She mentioned the party as they were eating their meal, and her uncle talked down Aunt Susan’s objections.

‘Let the girl enjoy herself,’ he said affectionately. ‘Lord knows she’ll be leaving us soon enough.’

‘But, Arthur——’

‘Stop fussing, woman!’ Sara’s usually mild uncle spoke very firmly. ‘Sara’s quite old enough to know what she’s doing. Pete may seem a little on the wild side to us, but to Sara I’m sure he seems a lot of fun.’

‘He does,’ she grinned, agreeing with her uncle. There was no harm in Pete, he was just a joker.

‘Then that’s all that matters. Are there any more potatoes, Susan?’ He quirked an eyebrow at his wife.

She gave an impatient sigh. ‘I thought you were starting your diet today?’

He grinned. ‘It can wait until tomorrow.’

His wife gave a reluctant smile. ‘I thought you might say that, which is why I did the normal amount of potatoes.’ She went into the kitchen to get them.

Sara’s uncle turned to wink at her. ‘After thirty years she knows me better than I know myself.’

Sara hoped, if she ever got married, that she and her husband were as happy together after being married the same number of years.

She was glad of the cape top when she was at last dressed in the gold dress, it served to hide the scantiness of the gown’s bodice. The material barely covered her naked breasts, completely strapless, the sheath of material clinging to every smooth curve of her body. With the cape about her shoulders, covering her naked shoulders and partially revealed breasts, the gown was still daring, but not as much as when the cape was removed.

When she heard Pete at the door she put her head around the lounge door and made her hurried goodbyes, dashing outside to join Pete before her aunt and uncle could see what she was wearing, not because she was ashamed of the dress but because she knew they wouldn’t understand why she was wearing it. A dress like this would be perfectly acceptable in the company she would be mixing in this evening, in fact she had attended a party with her parents in it, but she was sure her aunt and uncle would be slightly shocked by its daring.

Pete wasn’t so much shocked as delighted. ‘Beautiful,’ he murmured appreciatively.

Sara gave a happy laugh. ‘Stop drooling and drive,’ she ordered.

He did, driving to the more exclusive part of London. The cars in the driveway they finally arrived at were all in the expensive Rolls-Royce and Jaguar bracket. Pete’s car was a Jaguar too, a vintage model, so it wasn’t in the least out of place.

He grinned at her appreciation of it as he locked the doors. ‘I bought it cheap. It was a wreck when I found it,’ he explained. ‘Eddie did it up for me.’

‘Nice to have a friend who can see to your cars for you,’ she teased.

‘A friend who doesn’t mind me taking his girl out for the evening,’ he raised one eyebrow questioningly.

Her smile faded. ‘I’m not his girl, Pete. We’re just friends.’

‘I know,’ he grinned. ‘Eddie told me he’d been politely but firmly warned off. Don’t worry, Sara,’ he said at her frown. ‘He doesn’t mind. Eddie isn’t into serious relationships either.’

‘I’m not into any sort of relationships!’

He quirked his eyebrow again. ‘Bad love affair?’ he asked softly.

Sara gave a scornful snort. ‘No affair, and no love either. What it was was just bad.’

‘And it’s over now?’

‘Very much so,’ she confirmed vehemently.

‘Right, then let’s go in and dazzle the crowd.’

‘In that case I’d better take this off first.’ She whisked the cape off, and her blonde curls cascaded down one shoulder and over the breast, pinned by a comb at the nape.

‘Wow!’ Pete gasped his appreciation. ‘Dazzle is the right word. Come on,’ he took her arm, ‘I’m going to enjoy this.’

Sara walked beside him into the entrance hall of the house. ‘Do I really look like this Marie Lindlay? My aunt and—no, just my aunt, she thinks that it’s probably just superficial.’

‘Well, I hope you don’t have Marie’s nature. She can be a bit of a flirt on occasion, or so I’ve heard. But as far as the face and body are concerned you’re identical.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s hard to believe.’

‘But true. I looked out some photographs of her today.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s unnatural. Let’s go inside, then you can see for yourself.’

The long room they entered was crammed full of people, all of them talking in loud refined voices, and sparkling with diamonds. Several people turned to look at them as the butler showed them in, and a tall redhead broke away from the crowd of people she had been talking to and made her way towards them.

‘Our hostess,’ Pete had time to mutter before the woman descended on them in an expensive cloud of perfume.

‘Peter darling!’ she cried before hugging him, kissing him lightly on the cheek. ‘And I see you’ve brought Marie with you.’ Her tone cooled somewhat. ‘What have you done with Dominic, darling?’ she spoke to Sara, her blue eyes hard.

‘I——’

‘This is Sara Hamille, Cynthia,’ Pete interrupted.

The blue eyes became even harder, the beautiful face assessing. ‘What game are you playing, Marie?’ she finally asked.

Sara looked confused. ‘No, really, I——’

‘A change of accent doesn’t make you any less Marie Lindlay,’ the woman scorned. ‘And Dominic is going to be furious when he arrives. Oh well,’ she said dismissively, ‘it’s your funeral. Drinks are over there,’ she waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the bar. ‘Help yourselves to food.’ She moved gracefully back to the people she had previously been conversing with.

‘You see?’ Pete dragged Sara over to the bar. ‘If you can fool Cynthia, you can fool anyone. She and Marie have been friends since boarding-school.’

Sara grimaced. ‘Are you sure ‘‘friends” is the right description?’

‘They’re like that in this crowd,’ he dismissed. ‘They stab each other in the back every opportunity they get. For instance, they’re probably all looking forward to the scene between Dominic Thorne and the supposed Marie Lindlay.’

‘How nice!’ she said with unconcealed sarcasm.

‘Come on, let’s have a drink,’ Pete encouraged. ‘We might as well enjoy ourselves now we’re here.’

An hour later, when Dominic Thorne and Marie Lindlay still hadn’t put in an appearance, Sara was beginning to wonder if they were coming, and she said as much to Pete.

‘Don’t worry,’ he assured her gaily, ‘they’ll be here. It’s only just gone ten o’clock.’

‘I wouldn’t mind,’ she grimaced. ‘But everyone here seems to think I really am Marie Lindlay. A couple of people have turned nasty because I refuse to admit to being her.’

‘Then they’re going to get a shock when the real one walks in. Have another drink.’

She was beginning to think they should leave. It was all turning out to be very embarrassing, these people convinced she was the other girl trying to make a fool of them, so much so that she was even beginning to doubt herself. Cynthia Robotham-James, their hostess, had become very annoyed with her a few minutes ago when she had again insisted her name was Sara Hamille.

‘Here we go,’ Pete suddenly whispered in her ear. ‘Look over at the door,’ he said fiercely.

Sara looked. Dominic Thorne was instantly recognisable in black velvet jacket and matching trousers, his snowy white shirt emphasising his tan. She held her breath as her gaze passed down to the girl at his side, gasping at what she saw. The hairstyle was different, the dress even more daring than the one she was wearing—if that were possible, and yet looking at the girl at Dominic Thorne’s side was like seeing a mirror image. No wonder everyone kept insisting she was Marie. The two of them looked exactly alike!

‘You see?’ Pete said excitedly. ‘Didn’t I tell you? Let’s go over there.’

‘No!’ She hung back, too confused at the moment to actually meet the other girl.

‘Come on,’ Pete insisted. ‘I’m not going to miss out on the fun now.’

Sara allowed herself to be pulled towards the doorway, too numb at the moment to offer any resistance. How could two people possibly be so much alike unless they were related in some way, and yet she had no cousins and was an only child herself. She shook her head dazedly, then looked up to find steely blue eyes fixed on her.

Dominic Thorne registered her appearance with a narrowing of those eyes, his body tensing. He looked down at his fiancéee and then back to Sara, frowning darkly. He bent down to whisper something in Marie’s ear, and she lifted her head, her eyes the same deep brown as Sara’s as the two girls stared at each other.

Pete was the only one in the group of four who remained immune to the sudden tension. ‘Hi,’ he greeted Marie brightly. ‘Permit me to introduce Sara Hamille.’ He made the announcement with a great deal of pleasure, obviously enjoying this situation immensely.

‘Miss Hamille,’ Dominic Thorne was the first to break the silence, his voice just as deep and attractive as Sara remembered it, all of him just as attractive as she remembered.

‘Mr Thorne,’ she acknowledged, still staring at Marie Lindlay, and the other girl stared right back.

Suddenly that beautiful face broke into a smile, a mischievous smile. ‘So you’re the girl who’s been going around London impersonating me?’ she accused jokingly.

‘Hardly impersonating,’ Dominic Thorne replied, completely in control of himself again, and the situation. ‘Miss Hamille has been acting as herself, it’s others who have taken her to be you.’ He looked at Sara with narrowed eyes. ‘I believe I owe you an apology,’ he said, as if the words didn’t come easily to him, as if he rarely had to admit to being in the wrong.

‘Let’s move away from the doorway,’ Marie suggested lightly. Her voice was completely different from Sara’s, her education obviously having been in one of England’s finest boarding-schools. ‘We’re attracting a lot of attention standing here.’

‘I’m afraid that’s my fault,’ Sara admitted as they moved to a less prominent part of the room. ‘The people here refused to believe I wasn’t Marie Lindlay, and now that you’ve arrived …’ she shrugged.

‘Ooh, how lovely!’ Marie clapped her hands in delight. ‘Isn’t this fun, Dominic?’ she exclaimed.

‘I doubt Miss Hamille has thought it so, it can’t have been easy being thought to be you,’ he added dryly.

‘Oh, Dominic!’ Marie pouted prettily.

He turned to look at Sara, his eyes once again registering his shock at her likeness to his fiancéee. ‘I really must apologise for my behaviour yesterday evening.’ His voice was stilted, his manner haughty. ‘You must have thought me very strange.’

Sara flushed. ‘And you must have thought me even stranger.’

‘Not really,’ he shook his head.

Marie gave a tinkling laugh, her long blonde hair brushed free about her shoulders. ‘Dominic has this mad idea that I keep going off with other men.’ She looked up at him through dark, silky, lashes. ‘Don’t you, my jealous darling?’

Sara found Marie’s clinging behaviour where Dominic Thorne was concerned rather uncomfortable to watch. The reason for this feeling was easily explained; it was like watching herself—and she knew she could never act that way with this arrogant man.

But maybe Dominic Thorne had reason to be suspicious of Marie. The man in Soho had certainly been more than a friend to her.

‘I’m sure Miss Hamille isn’t interested in what I do or do not think,’ he said curtly. ‘Now don’t you think we should make our presence known to Cynthia?’

It was a deliberate snub, but not one Marie seemed about to endorse. ‘I can’t lose sight of my double now. Just think of the fun we could have, Sara,’ her eyes lit up with pleasure. ‘We could play some terrific tricks on people!’ She turned Sara towards the mirror that adorned the wall behind them. ‘It’s incredible,’ she said breathlessly, staring at their reflections.

And it was incredible, the likeness was uncanny. Sara’s hair was possibly a little lighter in colour, bleached by years under the Florida sun, and her skin was a more golden colour against Marie’s magnolia colouring, but other than that they were identical—the same height, the same features, even the same slender fingers, but a huge diamond ring sparkled on the third finger of Marie’s left hand.

‘I think unbelievable is a more apt word.’ Dominic Thorne came to stand between them. ‘Have you always looked like this, Miss Hamille?’ The question was almost an accusation.

She flushed at his tone. ‘Are you implying I’ve had plastic surgery to make me look like Marie? Because I can assure you I haven’t,’ she said indignantly.

‘No, she hasn’t,’ Pete cut in, indignant on her behalf. ‘I can spot that sort of thing a mile away. Sara was born with that face.’

‘Well, I can assure you I haven’t had plastic surgery, Dominic,’ Marie told her fiancé.

‘Considering I’ve known you since you were ten years old I would say that was obvious,’ he scorned. ‘But there has to be some explanation for this.’

‘I can’t think of one,’ Marie dismissed. ‘Come on, Sara, we’ll go and show Cynthia you aren’t a liar at all.’ She took Sara by the arm and led her away.

Sara was fuming, aware of the fact that Dominic Thorne didn’t like her, distrusted her. Plastic surgery indeed!

‘You mustn’t mind Dominic.’ Marie seemed to read her thoughts. ‘He’s suspicious by nature.’

Sara couldn’t dismiss him so easily, although she did her best as Marie led her from group to group, the other girl loving the sensation they were causing.

‘I really must get back to Pete,’ Sara insisted at last, having noticed that he was having extreme difficulty conversing with the taciturn Dominic Thorne, those steely blue eyes never leaving Marie and herself.

Marie looked regretful. ‘And I suppose I should get back to Dominic.’ The smile she gave him was radiant, her hand once again through the crook of his arm as she looked up at him affectionately.

‘I think we should be going now,’ Sara told Pete.

‘Surely not?’ To her surprise it was Dominic Thorne who made the objection. ‘I was just going to ask you if you would care to dance.’

Sara loved to dance, although Pete had assured her that he was absolutely tone deaf and so hopeless at dancing. But despite her love of dancing she didn’t relish the idea of being relatively alone with Dominic Thorne.

‘I really think we should be leaving now.’ She put as much regret in her voice as she could in the circumstances.

Those hard blue eyes remained fixed on her face. ‘One dance isn’t going to delay you too long, surely?’ he persisted.

‘I——’

‘Oh, go on, Sara,’ Pete encouraged. ‘Five minutes isn’t going to make that much difference.’

‘It never pays to argue with Dominic,’ even Marie added her argument in favour of the dance.

Sara gave a resigned shrug. ‘Very well, I’d love to dance, Mr Thorne.’

‘Dominic, please,’ he could be heard saying as he manoeuvred her on to the space that had been cleared for dancing, some of the couples around them doing more than dancing as the alcohol they had consumed hit their bloodstream. Sara was quite embarassed by some of the things that were going on. ‘Ignore them,’ Dominic advised, seeing her shocked expression.

‘I—That’s a little difficult,’ she gasped as she saw one man blatantly touching the bare breast of his dancing partner.

Dominic saw it too, not bothering to dance any more but taking her hand and leading her out of the double doors that led to the garden.

Sara snatched her hand away, eyeing him warily. ‘Is it always like that?’ she asked disgustedly.

‘It gets worse,’ he derided.

Then thank goodness she was leaving. And thank goodness she hadn’t actually got to dance with this man. Even in the brief moment he had pulled her into his arms she had been aware of his masculinity, of the sensual air that surrounded him. Not that she felt any safer completely alone with him out here, where the noise of the party sounded strangely muted. And she soon realised why—he had closed the doors behind them.

He took a packet of cigars out of his breast pocket, lighting one with a gold lighter. ‘You’ve obviously never been to one of Cynthia’s parties before,’ he mocked.

Sara moved restlessly, wishing he would stop staring at her with those curiously intent eyes, as if he were trying to see into her very soul. ‘No,’ she confirmed nervously.

‘Have you been in England long?’ The query sounded casual, and yet Sara had the feeling it wasn’t any such thing.

She shrugged. ‘A few days.’

He nodded. ‘Are you here with your parents?’

‘They were both killed in a car accident six months ago,’ she said jerkily.

‘I see. I’m sorry,’ he added as an afterthought. ‘So you’re over here on holiday?’

‘Yes.’ No point in mentioning that she was slowly recovering from her own injuries in the car accident, it wasn’t of interest to this man.

‘So Mr Glenn is a relatively new acquaintance?’

‘Very new.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t understand the reason for these questions, Mr Thorne.’

He shrugged. ‘You didn’t seem surprised by Marie’s likeness to you, and as you are obviously an American and have only just arrived in England I wondered how you’d learnt of Marie’s existence.’

Sara stiffened. ‘I’m not sure that I like your tone, Mr Thorne.’ He sounded almost accusing, as if he suspected her of something but hadn’t yet stated these suspicions.

‘I’m sorry if you take exception to what I’ve said.’ But he didn’t look in the least sorry; his expression was hard, his eyes narrowed to icy slits. ‘But I’m sure you can understand my puzzlement as to your reason for seeking out my fiancéee.’

‘I didn’t seek her out!’ Sara snapped resentfully. ‘I admit that I wanted to see her, but only because so many people had taken me to be her, yourself included,’ she added pointedly. ‘I had no ulterior motive for meeting Marie, as you seem to be implying I have.’

Dominic Thorne remained unmoved by her heated outburst. ‘Did I do that?’ he asked silkily.

‘You know you did. Just why do you think I wanted to see Marie?’ There were two spots of angry colour in her cheeks.

He shrugged. ‘She’s rich, and——’

He didn’t get any further. Sara’s hand swung up to strike him forcibly on the side of the face, and she watched with satisfaction as angry red welts appeared on his rigid cheek. This satisfaction soon faded as she saw the angry glitter in glacial blue eyes.

‘You deserved that!’ she spluttered, backing away. ‘You——’

Now it was his turn to render her speechless—only his method was much more destructive! Barry had liked to kiss her, in his practised way he had believed he was arousing her, but this man, Dominic Thorne, ravaged her mouth with his lips, bent her curves to mould against his hard muscled body, rendered her breathless—and aroused her against her will.

‘How dare you!’ she demanded when he at last released her mouth, pushing away from him.

Her indignation only served to amuse him. ‘Couldn’t you have come out with something a little more original than that?’ he mocked. ‘You disappoint me, Miss Hamille.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘And you disappoint me too, Mr Thorne!’ She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, watching his expression darken. ‘I had expected more than brutality from the celebrated Dominic Thorne,’ she added insultingly.

‘You know,’ he drawled slowly, ‘your similarity to Marie is only skin-deep.’ His look was contemptuous of her slender curves and flushed face.

‘Maybe she appreciates your—your savagery,’ she spat the words at him angrily, ‘but I don’t! Excuse me, Mr Thorne, I hope I never have the misfortune to meet you again.’ She spun on her heel, but was stopped from leaving by his hand on her arm. ‘Let go of me!’ she ordered coldly.

He looked down at her, his jaw rigid, a pulse beating rapidly in his throat. ‘I hope we never meet again, Sara,’ his voice was husky. ‘But for a completely different reason from yours.’

‘Goodbye, Mr Thorne!’ She swung away from him, and this time he made no effort to stop her.

‘Goodbye, Sara …’ he said softly as she closed the door behind her.

She marched straight over to Pete as he still stood talking to Marie, her anger making her look even more beautiful in that moment. ‘I’m ready to leave,’ she told Pete tautly.

Marie burst out laughing. ‘Has Dominic been upsetting you?’ she chuckled. ‘I can see he has.’ She put her arm through Sara’s. ‘You mustn’t mind Dominic. If he’s been insulting you, which I think he must have done, he was probably only trying to protect me. Dominic always thinks he has to protect me from something.’

‘Then this time he’s done a good job of it,’ Sara said distantly. ‘I’m sorry I bothered you, Miss Lindlay. I can assure you I had no intention of upsetting you in any way.’

Marie’s smile was openly scornful. ‘I’m not upset. I’ve had the most fun tonight that I’ve had in a long time. If you give me your telephone number perhaps I can call you some time and we can have lunch together.’

Sara hesitated, Dominic Thorne’s determination for Marie and herself never to meet again fixed firmly in her mind. He had made his opinion more than clear, and she doubted if many people opposed that strong will of his.

‘Oh, please do,’ Marie encouraged. ‘Dominic doesn’t even have to know about it. Please,’ she added with a beguiling smile.

Sara knew this sort of persuasion of old—she must look exactly the same when she tried to get her own way. How could she possibly refuse! ‘All right.’ She wrote out her aunt’s telephone number on the piece of paper Marie provided. ‘But I’m only here for another couple of weeks at the most.’

‘Oh, I’ll call you before then,’ Marie assured her.

Sara saw Dominic Thorne fast approaching their little group and so she hurriedly made her goodbyes. She had had enough of him for one evening.

‘Where did Thorne take you?’ Pete asked on the drive home.

‘Outside,’ she revealed furiously. ‘He seemed to think I was trying to pull a stunt on them.’

Pete laughed. ‘Men like him don’t understand coincidence. How did you like Marie?’ he gave her a sideways glance.

‘How did you like her?’ She quirked an eyebrow at him. She hadn’t missed their slightly flirtatious manner when she had rejoined them.

‘I liked her a lot,’ he acknowledged softly. ‘It’s strange, the two of you look exactly alike, and yet there’s a difference. You have an air of sexual challenge about you that Marie doesn’t have, and I’m into the innocent look at the moment. Not that I’m complaining,’ he added hastily, ‘but I think Thorne probably spends most of his time fighting men off her.’

‘He certainly watches over her well,’ Sara said moodily.

‘So would I,’ Pete grinned.

‘Lecherous beast!’ She started to relax a little, her indignation about Dominic Thorne’-s treatment of her put firmly to the back of her mind. ‘I doubt if Marie would stay innocent for long around you.’

He shrugged. ‘Marie has these vibrations … and I felt them.’

Sara gave him a worried look. ‘I wouldn’t advise stepping on those particular toes.’ Dominic Thorne would deal far more ruthlessly with a man.

‘If the lady’s willing …’

‘Ah, but is she?’

‘I think she could be,’ he nodded.

She shrugged. ‘Then I wish you luck.’

If Dominic Thorne found out about it then Pete was going to need more than luck!

Her aunt and uncle were already in bed when she got in, although her aunt called to her as she changed into her nightclothes. Her uncle was fast asleep, but her aunt had her own bedside lamp on and had been reading. She put the book down when Sara came quietly into the room.

‘Oh, don’t mind your uncle,’ her aunt said at her questioning look. ‘He can sleep through anything, and often does. Did you have a nice time, dear?’

‘Quite nice, thank you.’ But she wouldn’t be seeing Pete again. They had parted as friends, but he was just another man who found Marie more attractive; Dominic Thorne had already made it known that she in no way compared to his Marie. ‘I’m not seeing Pete again, he’s going to be very busy the next few weeks,’ she excused to her aunt.

‘Were they nice people at this party?’

Sara smiled. ‘Or slightly mad like Pete?’ she teased.

‘Yes,’ her aunt admitted guiltily.

‘They were all—very nice.’

‘Well, I’m glad you had an enjoyable evening.’ She plumped up her pillow. ‘I think I’ll go to sleep now that I know you’re home.’

‘ ’Night,’ and Sara quietly left the room.

For some reason she had been loath to mention her meeting with Dominic Thorne and Marie Lindlay to her aunt.