Forbidden Surrender (3 page)

She went willingly enough, just relieved to have him back with her, before any more of Marie’s men accosted her. Pete proved to be an extrovert, even the sober suit and tie did not diminish his exuberant nature.

‘Wow!’ he exclaimed when he saw her, pulling her on to the bar stool next to him. ‘I bet you’re a natural,’ he enthused, studying her with the practised eye of a photographer. ‘Boy, would I like to get you the other side of my camera,’ he spoke softly to himself. ‘No chance of that?’ He quirked a hopeful eyebrow.

Sara grinned at him; this enthusiasm was doing wonders for her ego. ‘Not this trip,’ she refused him. ‘I’ve already explained to Eddie that I don’t have a permit—’

‘I could get you one,’ Pete cut in eagerly.

She shook her head. ‘I’m still convalescing.’

‘Mm, Eddie explained.’ Pete was studying her closely. ‘Have you ever worked in this country?’

‘I’ve never even been here before, except as a baby, so I certainly haven’t worked here before.’

‘I have this feeling I’ve seen you before.’ He frowned his puzzlement.

‘Not you too!’ Sara sighed. ‘You’re the third one since I’ve been here.’

‘At the club?’ Eddie enquired, sitting the other side of her.

‘No, in England. People keep thinking I’m someone else.’

‘A pick-up!’ he dismissed.

‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘The first time it happened I thought that, but it happened again tonight, here, and both men thought I was the same person.’ She shrugged her puzzlement.

Eddie put his arm about her shoulders. ‘I refuse to
believe there are two like you,’ he smiled at her warmly. ‘Nature couldn’t have been that generous!’

Sara ignored the pointed show of possession, realising that Eddie was warning his friend off her. Not that she particularly minded, one man was complication enough for her stay here. ‘It was all very odd, though. Still,’ she dismissed it from her mind, ‘it doesn’t matter. Could we possibly leave now, Eddie? It’s getting late, and Aunt Susan and Uncle Arthur seem to have taken to waiting up for me.’

They made their goodbyes to Pete, and Sara promised to get in touch with him if she ever decided to work in England.

‘Lucky we ran into him,’ Eddie remarked on the drive home. ‘He can be an elusive man, impossible to find at times.’

Sara was preoccupied, unable to put the thought of the man at the casino out of her mind. He hadn’t been the sort of individual you forgot in a hurry; his manner was forceful, his attractiveness mesmerising, animally sensual. Whoever Marie was she was a lucky girl to have had him for a lover.

‘Eddie,’ she bit her lip thoughtfully, ‘tonight, at the club, there was a man called Dominic Thorne. Do you know him?’

He spluttered with laughter. ‘You have to be joking! He’s out of my league, love,’ he added less scornfully.

‘But you have heard of him?’

‘Who hasn’t?’ he shrugged, halting the car outside the house. ‘He has his finger in every business pie going, every one that’s legal, that is. He and his partner—well, his father’s partner, actually, but the old man’s dead now—they’re in the millionaire class.’

‘Is he married?’ Sara made the query as casually as she could, not wanting to show her extreme interest in Eddie’s answer.

‘No,’ he grinned. ‘But he’s going to be. He’s done the
sensible thing, he’s got himself engaged to his partner’s daughter, Marie Lindlay.’

Sara swallowed hard. ‘Marie …?’

‘Mm. One day Dominic Thorne will have it all, all the business interests plus the lovely Marie.’

Sara was no longer listening to him. This Marie everyone kept confusing her with was actually going to
marry
Dominic Thorne. Surely he couldn’t mistake another woman for the girl he was going to marry?

I
T
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 fiancée 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!