Illyrian Summer

ILLYRIAN SUMMER

Iris Danbury

A mere infatuation, she told herself

Sarah
’
s job as script girl for a film crew in Yugoslavia introduced her to exciting people—including Adam
Thorne
. She found his visit to the film site unaccountably disturbing.

After he left, Sarah was sure her feeling for Adam had been only a foolish infatuation; he could never take her seriously. But when she heard of an earthquake in the area where he worked, she felt compelled to find him, to know he was safe.

And that wasn
’
t her only reason...

With Our Warmest Appreciation...

We are pleased to offer as a gift book this first volume of HARLEQUIN PETITE, our delightful new romance series.

Illyrian Summer
is an intriguing love story that gives glimpses into the exciting world of film and has a setting that is truly unique—Yugoslavia.

We hope you enjoy this special volume. It is sent with our heartfelt thanks to you, our loyal readers, and a sincere wish for your continued romance-reading enjoyment.

CHAPTER ONE

Sarah watched closely
as a man crept furtively around the corner of a broken wall. A burst of firing sounded close by and he dropped down quickly behind the wall. Then, lifting his r
i
fle, he fired answering shots before running toward a clump of bushes.

“
Okay, Branko!
”
Edmund shouted.
“
Get back ready for the take.
”

Sarah had already discovered that filming was always at the mercy of unrelenting time. Too long a lapse between shots and the shadows would alter, revealing immediately to the trained eye that the scene had not been continuous.

Now she and Radmilla, the senior continuity girl, rose from their uncomfortable rocky perches and climbed up to the path.

Radmilla, a handsome Yugoslav girl with laughing dark eyes and masses of black hair braided and coiled around her sleek head, was essential to the film unit on location in her country, for she spoke half a dozen languages and acted as interpreter.

Sarah fanned herself with her wide-brimmed straw hat and moved to a spot where trees shaded the path. In appearance the two girls were sharply contrasted. Radmilla
’
s round-featured face and sturdy figure stamped her as a southern European. Sarah was the fair-haired type with amber brown eyes and a pale skin. With a thin yellow shirt tucked inside dusty blue jeans she seemed taller and more slender than she really was.

The cameramen were already in position outside a ruined cottage, now no more than a roofless hut. Here
the late-afternoon sun would-shine through the gaps where windows had been and thus reduce the amount of artificial light needed. Mobile generators had been brought to the higher part of the road, and snaking lengths of cable provided power for all the equipment, lights and soundtrack.

When filming was finished for the day, Edmund sighed loudly.
“
Let
’
s hope we
’
ve got everything in the can. If tonight
’
s rushes are okay, we can all have a day off tomorrow.
”

After dinner in their hotel in Opatija, Sarah and Radmilla strolled to the hotel where Edmund and the principal actors were staying. It had once been a private villa but was now a small but luxurious hotel standing
in pleasant grounds overlooking the sea. Here every night the day
’
s film shots were projected on a screen in a darkened room for the benefit of directors, actors and technicians.

Daniel Clent, the handsome star of the film, greeted Sarah with rather more enthusiasm than she welcomed.
“
Darling! What ages since we met!
”

“
It was only yesterday,
”
she pointed out.

“
Yesterday, was it? Seems a century away.
”

He had been playing in a scene under the Italian director, Vittorio, at the port of Rijeka.

“
Edmund hopes he has finished his bit along the coast, so if the rushes are good we shall get a day off tomorrow.
”
Sarah colored immediately. She had not meant to sound as though she was asking Daniel to take her out for the day.

“
A day off? Marvelous! We
’
ll go over to one of the islands—and swim and laze and—
”

“
Daniel!
”
Edmund interrupted.
“
Before you make arrangements to whisk one of my script girls away, could I remind you that Melanie is flying in from Venice tomorrow and will have to be met?
”

Daniel
’
s face instantly changed.
“
Ah, yes. Melanie.
”
He turned to Sarah.
“
Always obstacles whenever we
’
d like to enjoy ourselves. I suppose I must go. You do understand, my sweet, don
’
t
y
ou?
”

“
Of course.
”

“
Melanie can be tiresome if she isn
’
t given the right treatment, so I
’
d better go to the airport.
”

“
Don
’
t worry, Daniel. I shall go off somewhere sightseeing. To Pula, perhaps. I
’
d like to see the amphitheater there.
”

Sarah was not too displeased that Daniel would be wholly occupied the next day. She had already received from
o
ther members of the company plenty of chaffing, warnings and advice about her friendship with Daniel. It was better not to seem to be too closely associated with him, especially now that Melanie Roche was joining the unit. As the star in the current film, she had asked for Daniel to play opposite her, s
o
at this point in his career he could not afford to offend her.

Radmilla was not interested in visiting Pula next day, so Sarah went alone by bus. After exploring the narrow streets and squares, then lunching at an open-air restaurant, she walked to the huge Roman amphitheater dominating the seafront.

An iron ladder led to the upper arched stories, and she was eager to climb up there and view from the top the panorama of town and harbor. The ladder was more precarious than she had bargained for and she was negotiating it carefully when an English voice below shouted,
“
I wouldn
’
t go up any farther if I were you!
”

Startled, she looked down and nearly lost her balance, but managed to grab the next rung. Below, she saw the upturned face of a man leaning against the stonework of the lower arches.

“
Why not?
”
she asked.

“
It could be dangerous unless you
’
re very surefooted.
”
He wore light trousers and a white shirt, so he couldn
’
t be a uniformed official.

Sarah stared down at him. What made him think that
he had the right to order her about just because he had guessed she was English?

“
Thank you,
”
she said coldly,
“
but I
’
m sure I can manage.
”

“
Then I hope you won
’
t mind if I accompany you.
”

“
As you wish.
”
She tried to sound deliberately indifferent. His evident concern for her safety must not allow him to believe that she welcomed the escort of any Englishman who happened to be around.

She was annoyed by his intrusion,
and perhaps that accounted for her lack of concentration on where she stepped, for suddenly she stumbled over a loose stone and was glad to clutch the stone balustrade.

The man
’
s arm shot out to steady her.
“
All right?
”
he queried.

She had known, of course, that he was following immediately behind her, but she would not look at him in case she saw an I-told-you-so expression on his face. When they reached the iron ladder he insisted on going first and carrying her handbag so that she had both hands free. Safely at ground level, she thanked him courteously, if not cordially, but now curiosity overcame her huffiness.

“
How did you know I was English?
”
she asked.

“
You were on the bus from Opatija,
”
he answered, as though that were sufficient reason to distinguish her.
“
Did anyone warn you to buy your return ticket before you left the bus station?
”

“
No. Should I have done that?
”

“
Yes. If there
’
s a crowd you won
’
t get on without a ticket.
”

She wondered if he would insist on accompanying
h
er to the bus station, but outside the amphitheater he pointed out the way, then said goodbye.

She noticed that his eyes were deep-set and very dark blue and that the line of his chin was hard and unfriendly to compromise.

On the return journey Sarah felt grateful toward the
u
nknown Englishman, for without her numbered ticket she would have been left behind in the suffocating crowds milling around the buses. The bus was too packed to see whether he was on it, but in any case, she reflected, he might not be returning to Opatija today, might not even be staying there. However, she would certainly recognize him again if she saw him.

At dinner in the hotel, Radmilla listened to Sarah
’
s account of her trip to Pula; an account, however, omitting any mention of a meeting at the amphitheater.

“
We have to go to the villa at ten o
’
clock,
”
Radmilla informed Sarah.
“
Edmund will give us instructions for tomorrow.
”

On the stone-paved terrace where pink and white oleanders clustered around a small fountain and masses of purple bougainvillea trailed over the seaward parapet, Sarah sat with the others while Edmund and Vittorio discussed their joint plans for the next part of the film.

Daniel leaned toward Sarah.
“
It sounds like a couple of days off for some of us.
”

“
Not for me, I think,
”
Sarah replied hastily.
“
Edmund will keep me busy typing out new scripts for the next scenes. Did you meet Miss Roche?
”

Daniel nodded.
“
Yes. An adequate number of photographers greeted her at the airport, so she
’
s in a good mood. I think she
’
s still in the hotel now—seems to have met some old friend, one of her former flames, I gather. But tell me what you did with yourself today.
”

“
I went to Pula,
”
Sarah began, then stopped. Melanie Roche had just come out of the hotel and was walking slowly across the terrace.

Sarah had seen the strikingly beautiful Melanie in several films, but they did less than justice to the star
’
s clear-cut features, luminous dark eyes and gleaming chestnut hair.

But Sarah
’
s attention was claimed by the tall, lean man strolling by Melanie
’
s side. If there had been any
chance of escape, she would have taken it; yet there was no valid reason why she should not meet again her acquaintance of this afternoon, the man at the amphitheater.

“
Isn
’
t it the most extraordinary thing?
”
Melanie exclaimed as Edmund, Daniel and the others rose to greet her.
“
The very first person I find in the hotel is Adam!
”
She turned toward her escort and gave him the full benefit of her renowned smile.

In the medley of introductions Sarah heard his name—Adam
Thorne
—which seemed to suit him, judging from her encounter with him earlier today. Then Edmund was saying,
“
And this is one of our script girls, Sarah Catherall.
”

Mr. Thorne murmured a formal acknowledgement but gave no sign of recognition that he and Sarah had already met.

Melanie took possession of the conversation, and after a while Daniel and Sarah managed to slip unobtrusively away.

“
Don
’
t keep Sarah out too late,
”
Edmund warned Daniel.
“
She has a lot of work to do tomorrow.
”

“
Not a moment after midnight,
”
promised Daniel,
“
in case her dress turns to rags.
”

As they said good-night to the rest of the party and Daniel linked his arm in hers, Sarah was conscious of Adam
Thorne’
s scrutiny.

She and Daniel strolled through a small ornamental park to a restaurant with a long raised terrace giving a view over the bay.

“
Is he in the filming business, this Mr. Thorne?
”
Sarah asked when they were served with coffee.

Daniel grinned.
“
Oh, no. He
’
s some sort of engineer and I don
’
t think he has a very high opinion of our profession. We
’
re just a lot of playboys to him.
”

“
I see. He just happens to be a friend of Melanie—Miss Roche.
”

He nodded.
“
As far as I can make out, he was once engaged to Melanie—or at least he was in love with her—but she was set on her career, so they parted. She was a wise girl, too, not to throw away her chances. Look where she is now—top of the ladder.
”

“
Is he on holiday here?
”
asked Sarah.

Daniel
’
s gray green eyes sparkled with amusement.
“
You
’
re very inquisitive about him, aren
’
t you? Why, it
’
s only half an hour ago that you clapped eyes on the man for the first time.
”

Sarah laughed spontaneously, but she was not going to tell Daniel that they were laughing at two different jokes.

Next day Edmund was as good as his promise, for at the villa Sarah was kept busy at her portable typewriter in the private sitting room used communally by Edmund and the rest of the company.