Forbidden Surrender (4 page)

‘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 fiancée 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 fiancée. ‘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 fiancée.

‘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 fiancée.’

‘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.’