Forbidden Surrender (2 page)

‘I hadn’t noticed,’ he teased.

She smiled. ‘I really don’t want to be too late. I—I don’t keep late hours any more.’ Since leaving the hospital she had taken life at a slow pace, retiring early and rising late.

‘Okay,’ Eddie sighed. ‘I’ll have you home by midnight—Cinderella. But I should still ask for a key, they’re usually in bed by ten.’

She knew that, and for the last two nights she had done the same thing. ‘I’ll ask,’ she promised. ‘And thanks once again for tonight, I had a great time.’

‘Enough of a great time to kiss me goodnight?’

She leant forward and kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘Goodnight,’ she called before hurrying into the house.

They had both been wrong; their aunt and uncle weren’t in bed at all, they were still in the lounge.

‘But it’s still worrying,’ Aunt Susan could be heard insisting.

‘You’re worrying over nothing,’ her husband chided her. ‘Just forget about it, it didn’t mean a thing.’

‘But, Arthur—’

‘Susan!’ he said sternly. ‘I think I just heard Sara come in, so let’s just drop the subject.’

Sara shrugged to herself, coughing to let them know of her presence. Her mother and stepfather often had minor arguments, but they usually passed within a day or so, and she felt sure things were no different between her aunt and uncle, the middle-aged couple seemed very happy together.

‘Did you have a nice time, dear?’ her aunt asked as she came into the room.

‘Lovely,’ she nodded agreement.

‘Going out with him again?’ Uncle Arthur eyed her
over the top of his horn-rimmed glasses.

Sara blushed. ‘Tomorrow.’

‘Hear that, Susan?’ he turned to his wife. ‘Before you know it we’ll have a wedding on our hands.’

‘Arthur!’ she warned.

‘I’m not getting married for years yet, Uncle Arthur,’ Sara told him hastily. ‘I’m only twenty, almost twenty-one.’

‘Susan and I had already been married two years by that time.’

‘It was different when we were young, Arthur,’ his wife chided. ‘There’s so much for young people to do nowadays, places to see, that they don’t want to tie themselves down to marriage too young.’

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘After all these years she finally tells me she married me out of boredom!’ He winked at Sara.

‘Go on with you!’ his wife scorned. ‘Where’s Eddie taking you tomorrow?’ she turned to ask Sara.

‘Out to dinner and then on to a club, he said.’ Her aunt and uncle’s interest in her evening out was nothing unusual to Sara, her mother had always been interested in such things too, and it was in fact quite like home sitting and chatting like this after an enjoyable evening out.

‘Better than a trip to a pub,’ Uncle Arthur teased.

‘I liked the pub.’ Sara had been quite disappointed that Eddie had decided not to take her back there.

Aunt Susan stood up, putting down her knitting. ‘Well, I’m for bed. Arthur?’

‘I am too.’ He stood up, stretching. ‘It’s nice having you with us, love,’ he told Sara huskily.

She moved to hug him, tears in her eyes. ‘It’s nice to be here. I wish now I’d come sooner, instead of waiting until—’ she broke off, stricken.

Her uncle patted her shoulder awkwardly. ‘It’s all right, Sara. We’re your family now, for as long as you want us.’

‘Thank you.’ She kissed them both on the cheek before hurrying to her room.

The tears flowed readily once she closed her bedroom door; the loss of her parents was still a raw wound. Without Aunt Susan and Uncle Arthur’s support the last few days she didn’t know what she would have done; some of the moods of depression she had suffered in the States had been very black indeed.

* * *

After an exhaustive perusal of most of the museums the next day Sara didn’t feel up to going anywhere that evening. But she had told Eddie she would go out with him and she couldn’t let him down. If they were dining out he had probably had to book a table.

‘Oh, you look lovely!’ her aunt exclaimed as Sara came into the lounge to wait for Eddie.

She felt quite confident of her appearance, knowing her black dress would be suitable for any occasion, would blend in both at the restaurant and the club, its style demure while still managing to show the perfection of her figure, her breasts firm and uptilting, the slenderness of her waist emphasised by a thick black belt, her hips narrow in the pencil-slim styling of the dress. Her legs were long and smooth, her slender ankles shown to advantage in the high-heeled sandals she wore, a slender gold chain about one of her ankles. She had needed to wear it for one of her photographic sessions, and now found it an attractive piece of jewellery.

She sat down opposite her aunt, her long hair secured on the top of her head, leaving her neck slenderly vulnerable. ‘Where’s Uncle Arthur?’

‘Gone for a drink with a few of his friends.’ Her aunt carried on with her knitting, halfway through making a cardigan for her husband. ‘It’s a regular thing. It does him good to get out for an evening.’

Sara frowned. ‘You should have told me, then I wouldn’t have arranged to go out tonight.’

‘You go out and have a good time,’ she encouraged. ‘To tell you the truth,’ she confided with a smile. ‘I usually doze off about nine o’clock.’

‘I see,’ Sara laughed. ‘A bit of peace and quiet, hmm?’

‘That’s the idea. That will be Eddie,’ Aunt Susan said as the doorbell rang.

Sara went and answered the door herself. Eddie was looking very smart in a navy blue suit and contrasting light blue shirt. His eyes widened as he saw her. ‘You’re ready.’ He stepped into the hallway.

‘Of course,’ she frowned. ‘It’s eight o’clock, isn’t it?’

‘Oh yes,’ he nodded. ‘I just thought I’d be kept waiting until at least eight-fifteen.’

She smiled as she led the way back to the lounge. ‘I always try to be punctual. My mother always told me that if someone has taken the trouble to arrive on time then it’s only polite to be ready.’

Eddie smiled. ‘I think I would have liked your mother.’

They said their goodbyes to Aunt Susan. The drive to the restaurant was a short one, their table secluded in one of the corners of the room.

‘I quite like Chinese food myself,’ Eddie told her once they had given their order. ‘But not knowing your preferences I played it safe and chose an English restaurant.’

Sara eyed him teasingly. ‘You were taking a risk thinking I like to eat at all. Most of the models I know live on milk and lettuce leaves.’

‘Hey, that’s right—you’re a model, aren’t you? Are you open to offers? And I meant for work,’ he added dryly.

She shrugged. ‘I will be, when I get back to the States. I don’t have a permit to work over here. This trip is strictly pleasure.’

‘Pity. I have a friend who’s a photographer. No, really,’ he insisted at her dubious expression. ‘Pete and I
were at school together. He’s quite successful over here.’

‘Maybe some other time,’ Sara said regretfully.

‘Okay. Maybe I’ll be able to introduce the two of you before you go home, then you’ll have a contact over here if you ever should decide to work here.’

Sara smiled, her skin a glowing peach colour, her eyes deeply brown. ‘That’s really nice of you, thank you.’

‘No trouble,’ Eddie dismissed.

It was after ten when they left the restaurant for the club, by now the two of them firm friends. Sara’s eyes were glowing from the amount of wine she had consumed during her meal, her smile more ready than usual.

The club was plush and exclusive, not really the sort of place she would have thought Eddie would have enjoyed frequenting.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Eddie grimaced. ‘But I’ve been here a couple of times with Pete.’ He shrugged. ‘I like watching the rich lose their money.’ He referred to the gambling tables, jewel-bedecked women and quietly affluent men gazing avidly down at the tables. ‘Pete’s a member,’ he explained the fact that they had actually been able to get in. ‘And the people here know me.’

Sara felt slightly uncomfortable among such people. ‘That sounds as if you’ve been here more than a couple of times,’ she teased.

He looked sheepish. ‘Maybe a few.’

She put her arm through his, determinedly putting any feelings of shyness behind her. ‘Let’s go and take a look.’

She had never been in a gambling club before, and for the first half hour she found it all fascinating. They were standing behind a middle-aged woman, who to Sara’s knowledge systematically lost every bet she placed. Sara stood back away from the light, finding it all very sickening, was the only word she could think of to describe that mindless addiction.

‘I’ll get you a drink,’ Eddie suggested.

She would rather have left, but she didn’t want to be a killjoy. Eddie was enjoying himself, and they would probably be leaving quite soon. She accepted the offer of a drink, continuing to watch the play in front of her, not understanding it at all but becoming more and more fascinated by the spin of the roulette wheel as she waited for Eddie’s return.

A woman on the other side of the table finally gave up, standing up to leave. A man moved to take her place, and Sara watched him as he began to win. This man had the look of an experienced gambler, a deadpan face, his blue eyes shrewd.

Sara watched him, her interest in the roulette reawakened. His movements were made without haste, his hands slender and lean, the fingers long and tapered. Her eyes were drawn from his hands to his face—a hard face, the deep blue eyes narrowed, the nose hawk-like, the mouth compressed, his jaw set at a strong angle. The evening suit he wore was impeccably styled, as was his dark over-long hair, his manner assured and speaking of wealth. The staff of the club treated him with deep respect, making Sara wonder who he could be. He was in his mid-thirties, maybe a little younger, and yet he seemed to be a man of affluence.

Suddenly he looked up and caught her watching him, and his face darkened into a frown, any attractiveness about him instantly disappearing. She recoiled from the angry dislike in his blazing blue eyes and turned away in search of Eddie. He was a long time getting their drinks.

Someone grasped her arm and she was roughly spun around to face the man she had been watching at the roulette table. He must have left the table immediately she turned away.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he rasped, his fingers painful on her arm.

Sara frowned at this attack on her, both physically
and verbally. ‘I—We—I was signed in.’

His mouth twisted—a perfect mouth, the lower lip fuller, pointing to a sensuality this man would take pains to hide. ‘So you aren’t alone?’

‘No—’

The man pulled her away from the table and over to a quiet corner of the room—if it could be called quiet in a room like this. ‘Who are you with?’ he demanded to know.

‘I—Let me go!’ Sara tried to pry his fingers loose, looking up at him with wide apprehensive eyes. If she had done something wrong by being here why didn’t he just say so and let her leave? There was no need for him to get rough with her. And where was Eddie? He could explain that he had signed her in, that his friend was a member. ‘You’re hurting me!’ she cried as his strong fingers refused to be dislodged from her arm.

His teeth snapped together, white teeth, very even. ‘I’d like to do more than that!’ He thrust her away from him. ‘Who’s the man?’ he asked tautly.

Sara rubbed her bruised skin. ‘Eddie Mayer,’ she muttered.

The man’s expression was grim, frighteningly so. ‘I don’t know him, but then I never do, do I? Well, you got this Eddie Mayer to bring you, so he can damn well take you home again. We’ll discuss this tomorrow.’

She blinked up at him. ‘Tomorrow …?’

‘Yes, tomorrow. And make sure you’re there. I’m getting a little tired of these exploits of yours, Marie. I thought they were over,’ he sighed. ‘God, if your father knew …’ He shook his head.

It was Marie again! For the second time in two days she had been mistaken for this other girl, Marie. This man must be another of her men, and the man Nick that the man of yesterday had warned her about was obviously this girl’s father. Considering she didn’t know the girl she was finding out a lot about her!

Well, this man was a definite improvement on yesterday’s,
although he was no less wrong about her identification. ‘There’s been a mistake—’

‘Yes,’ he hissed angrily, ‘and I’m beginning to think I made it!’ He gave her a disgusted look. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow.’ He turned and walked out of the club with long controlled strides.

Sara was left feeling as if she had just survived an earthquake, or something equally disastrous. Whoever this Marie was she led an interesting and varied life, and it looked as if this last man had had enough. The other girl was obviously a flirt, but that didn’t make it right that she was going to get the blame for something she hadn’t done.

She was curious to know the man’s identity, and walked over to the doorman. ‘That man …’ she paused hesitantly. ‘The one that just left …’

‘Mr Thorne?’ the man enquired politely.

‘Oh, Mr Thorne,’ she feigned disappointment. ‘It seems I made a mistake, I thought it was Gerrard Turner,’ she hastily made a name up.

‘No, miss,’ the doorman shook his head, ‘that was Mr Dominic Thorne. He’s in engineering.’

‘Thank you,’ she smiled. ‘Wrong man,’ she shrugged before walking away.

When the man said Dominic Thorne was ‘in engineering’ she felt sure he meant that he ran these firms. There had been an air of authority about the man, a determination that wouldn’t let him be ruled by anyone. Despite his rough treatment of her Sara had found him attractive. A shame he was interested in someone called Marie, a girl who appeared to be her double.

She had read that everyone had a double somewhere in the world, but it seemed hers was living in London, and that their likeness was so extreme that even this Marie’s lovers seemed to have been fooled. And Sara was sure both those men had been her lovers; they had both had a strong sense of familiarity about them towards her—or rather, Marie.

‘Sara!’ Eddie appeared in front of her. ‘I thought for a minute you’d left without me,’ he sighed his relief. ‘Sorry I was so long, but I ran into Pete. Come over and meet him.’