Forbidden Surrender (13 page)

‘I won’t let you!’ Danny pulled her into his arms. ‘I love you, Marie, and you love me.’

Sara was embarrassed at being a witness to this conversation, but it was too late to move now.

Marie emerged from Danny’s suffocating kiss. ‘Let me go, Danny,’ she ordered coldly. ‘My sister’s out here somewhere. She’s the reason I’m out here at all—I came to look for her.’

At the mention of her Sara’s foot accidentally knocked against one of the flower-pots standing along the verandah, and she moved back into the shadows.

‘I heard someone,’ Marie whispered, pushing Danny away from her. ‘Please, you have to go. That could be Sara, and I don’t want her to see me with you. Please, Danny!’ she pleaded as he still didn’t move.

‘All right!’ he accepted angrily. ‘But this isn’t the end of it. I won’t let you marry Nick.’

Even from this distance Sara could see Marie’s eyes flash, her chin thrust out in challenge. ‘Try and stop me,’ she hissed. ‘Just try it, Danny. I’ll never come back to you. Never!’

‘We’ll see!’ he snapped before turning around and going back into the house.

Sara heard her sister’s ragged sigh, giving her a few minutes to collect herself before making her presence
known. Even in the gloom she could clearly see Marie’s paleness, her wide distressed eyes.

But all this was quickly masked as she saw Sara, her smile on the shaky side. ‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked concernedly.

‘A lot better,’ Sara replied, remembering the headache she was supposed to have. ‘I—Shall we go back inside?’ She wished she could show Marie that she knew of her distress, but without revealing her eavesdropping she couldn’t very well do that.

They rejoined their father and Dominic, and Marie was the one who looked ill. Dominic’s arm came about her protectively.

‘I think it’s time we went,’ he said softly. ‘You’re looking tired, Marie.’

‘I—I think maybe I am,’ she agreed hesitantly. ‘It must be the—the heat.’

Or her rather heated meeting with the young man called Danny! Sara was in utter confusion about her newly acquired family. So many secrets, past and present, that she just didn’t have access to.

M
ARIE
threw herself wholeheartedly into the preparations for their own party, or perhaps wholeheartedly was the wrong description; mindlessly fitted better. She was like a butterfly, flitting from one arrangement to another, never seeming to stop long enough to think, let alone plan anything.

And then mid-week she fell prone to one of her migraine attacks. Sara heard her moving restlessly about her room in the middle of the night, and at first she stayed awake in case Marie began sleepwalking. Then she realised that the frenzied walking was due to something else. Marie was in pain of some sort, whether physical or mental she didn’t know, she only knew her twin was in pain.

Marie was sitting on the bed when she went in, bent double, her head cradled in her hands. ‘Oh, God, make it stop,’ she groaned. ‘Make it stop!’

‘Marie!’ Sara ran to her, holding her against her shoulder. ‘Marie, what is it?’

‘My head!’ her sister choked. ‘Oh, God, make the pains stop!’ Tears streamed down her face.

‘What sort of pains, Marie?’

‘Sharp,
digging
pains,’ she quivered. ‘I can’t stand it, Sara. I just can’t stand it!’ she repeated hysterically.

‘It’s all right now, honey,’ Sara soothed. ‘I’m with you. Now we’re going to make the pains go away. You and I together are going to make them stop. Now lie back, Marie. Come on, back on the bed.’ All the time she was talking she was easing her sister back on the pillows. ‘That’s the way,’ she crooned once Marie was finally lying down. ‘Now I’m going to turn out the light—–’

‘No! No, don’t leave me in the dark!’ Marie struggled to sit up again.

‘I’m not going to leave you at all,’ Sara reassured her, holding her firmly against her. ‘I’m going to stay right here with you.’

‘Please don’t turn off the light,’ her sister trembled. ‘I don’t like the dark. It—it makes me think of death.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Do you think when you die that it’s all darkness, that you’re alone in the dark for ever?’

Sara frowned, smoothing Marie’s heated brow, feeling the tension starting to recede. ‘I don’t think so,’ she comforted.

‘Don’t you really?’ Marie asked hopefully.

‘I really don’t.’

Right now she would give anything to know how long Marie’s headaches had been occurring. She would take a bet on its being since she had found out about their father’s illness. These migraine attacks were brought on through fear of her father’s death. Marie was one of those people petrified of death and all it entailed. It held such a fear for her that she had nightmares, sleepwalked, and had these terrible tension headaches, headaches that caused actual physical pains.

‘All right,’ Marie sighed against her. ‘You can turn out the main light now. But leave on the bedside lamp!’ she pleaded.

‘I will,’ Sara reassured her. ‘But I’m sure a dim light will help your head.’ She rejoined her sister on the bed, putting her arms about her and holding her tight. ‘I’m here now, Marie,’ she murmured. ‘You can go to sleep, you aren’t alone any more.’

‘Thank you,’ Marie sighed. ‘I—I feel better now.’ She closed her eyes, starting to relax. ‘I’m sorry to be such a baby,’ she murmured.

‘You aren’t a baby,’ Sara smoothed her sister’s hair. ‘You’re in pain, and you’re naturally upset.’

‘The pain’s going now.’

Of course it was; Marie had been comforted and reassured,
and now the headache was fading. As the pain receded sleep took over, and it wasn’t long before Sara knew her sister to be asleep. But still she didn’t leave her, feeling that Marie needed her close, could sense she was there even though she was now fast asleep.

Someone ought to be told the reason for Marie’s migraine attacks. They were very serious, their father’s worried return from his business trip had been evidence of that, and yet they could all be stopped if Marie were able to discuss her father’s illness with someone. At the moment she was obviously afraid to, and as Sara wasn’t even supposed to know about the illness she couldn’t really introduce the subject. The trouble was she didn’t yet know her father or sister well enough to interfere in this situation. That left only Dominic.

But she couldn’t talk to Dominic either, had avoided even looking at him the last couple of days; the memory of their behaviour out in his mother’s garden was still too vivid in her mind for her to think of it without blushing. She had behaved shamelessly, had given in to a passion that she had never known before, a desire to be possessed by Dominic, her own sister’s intended husband.

Dominic hadn’t accepted her cool behaviour of the last few days without demur, but there was little he could do in front of Marie and her father. Any attempts by him to get her alone she had so far managed to rebuff, and yesterday when she had received a telephone call from a man who wouldn’t give his name she had refused to take the call, guessing it to be Dominic. They had to stay away from each other, and if Dominic wasn’t strong enough to see that they did then she would have to be the one who did.

Some time towards morning she must have fallen asleep herself, because the sun was filtering through the curtains when next she opened her eyes. A quick look at the bedside clock showed her it was almost eight o’clock. Marie would be all right now, now it was daylight, and
as she was still asleep, Sara moved gingerly from her side and made her way back to her own room.

She met her father out in the corridor, his dark pinstriped suit evidence of his having just prepared to go to work.

He frowned as he saw her softly close Marie’s bedroom door. ‘Has she been ill?’ he asked worriedly.

‘Just one of her headaches,’ Sara shrugged. ‘I think she’s all right now.’

‘I’ll go in to her.’ His hand moved out to the door-handle.

‘No,’ Sara stopped him. ‘She’s asleep. I should leave her.’

He looked taken aback. ‘She actually managed to fall asleep? Usually when she has one of these attacks someone has to sit up with her all night.’

This made Sara wonder how many times Dominic had been the one to sit through the night with Marie. After all, their father had been out of the country when she had had her last attack.

She pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind, knowing that Dominic’s relationship with Marie, the closeness of it, was none of her business. ‘She’s asleep this time!’ Her voice was sharper than she intended with the intimacy of her thoughts.

‘What did you do?’ Her father was still obviously amazed by this unusual occurrence.

‘Sat with her, talked with her. Then I just held her while she went to sleep. She doesn’t like the dark,’ Sara added tautly, wishing she could tell him
why
she didn’t.

He looked away. ‘I know,’ he admitted grimly.

‘I think Marie should see a doctor,’ she insisted firmly. Maybe if Marie could tell her fears to a doctor he could pass them on to their father.

‘She’s seen one, more than one.’

‘And?’ Sara prompted.

‘Just tension headaches,’ he dismissed with a shrug. ‘Probably due to her engagement to Dominic and the
excitement of getting married. They tell me a lot of engaged girls get them.’

‘That bad?’ she scorned.

‘Sometimes,’ he nodded, and glanced down at his wrist-watch. ‘I have to go down now, I just have time for breakfast before my early appointment.’ He bent to give her a preoccupied kiss on the forehead. ‘I’ll see you later, darling. I should leave Marie, she usually sleeps all day after one of these attacks.’

‘I doubt she will today, not when she’s slept most of the night.’

‘Maybe not. I should get some rest yourself, Sara. It must have been a long night for you.’

Sleep was out of the question now, now that she had thought of Dominic. ‘I think I would rather dress and have breakfast,’ she smiled at her father.

He nodded. ‘Then I’ll wait downstairs for you.’

It didn’t take her long to shower and dress in her usual denims and casual top, this time a short-sleeved checked shirt, the top two buttons left undone for coolness. She checked on Marie before she went downstairs, and found her sister still fast asleep.

She joined her father at the breakfast table, pouring them both out a cup of coffee. ‘These migraines of Marie’s,’ she persisted, ‘does she always have so many? I mean, it isn’t long since the last one.’

‘They have become a little more—frequent lately,’ her father admitted, ‘But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.’

‘When did she last see a doctor?’

‘A couple of weeks ago. Please don’t worry about it, Sara,’ he smiled. ‘Marie will be over it by tomorrow.’

She frowned. ‘Not today?’

‘Not usually.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘I think she was supposed to be acting as Dominic’s hostess this evening too.’

‘Surely he can put it off?’

Her father shook his head. ‘These clients are only in
town for this evening. Oh well, I’m sure Dominic will think of something.’

He did; he asked Sara to take Marie’s place. He arrived shortly before lunch to visit his fiancée, spending some time alone with Marie in her bedroom.

Sara began to tremble as he joined her in the lounge, and put down the book she had been pretending to read since he had arrived, pretending because she certainly couldn’t concentrate knowing Dominic was in the house.

‘How is she?’ she asked for something to say, knowing how Marie was, because she had been in to see her herself only half an hour earlier.

‘Fine,’ Dominic confirmed her earlier findings. ‘How have you been?’ he asked huskily.

‘Me?’ she said brightly. ‘Oh, I’m very well. It’s Marie I’m worried about. My father doesn’t seem all that concerned—–’

‘Then I’m sure he knows best,’ Dominic interrupted.

‘Are you?’ she derided. ‘Aren’t you in the least concerned about her either?’

Dominic’s mouth tightened, his eyes narrowing. ‘What are you implying?’ he demanded tautly.

Sara moved impatiently, standing up to pace the room. ‘It seems to me that no one takes these attacks of Marie’s seriously. It isn’t natural—–’

His hand came out to grab her arm, his fingers biting painfully into her wrist. ‘Don’t interfere in things you don’t understand. You haven’t been here long enough to realise—–’

She pulled out of his grasp. ‘To realise what?’ she asked furiously, her eyes sparkling dangerously. ‘That neither my father or you seem to give a damn about Marie, that you even make passes at me behind her back?’

‘Passes!’ Dominic ground out fiercely, his handsome face alight with anger. ‘You think they’re
passes
?’ he asked incredulously.

Her stance was challenging. ‘What else could they be?’

He sighed, his anger fading. ‘If you only knew …’

‘Something else I shouldn’t know?’ Sara snapped tautly. ‘Something else I haven’t been in this family long enough to be privileged to hear? Your own words, Dominic,’ she scorned at his darkening expression. ‘I haven’t been here long enough to understand!’ she repeated in a choked voice, turning to run out of the room and up the stairs.

She knew that Dominic followed her, could hear the pounding of his feet on the stairs, could hear him panting not far behind her. But she hoped to reach her bedroom and lock the door before Dominic caught up with her, knowing he would never dare cause a scene outside her bedroom door, not with Marie so close.

What she hadn’t taken into account was the fact that there was no lock on her door. Dominic crashed into the room after her, closing the door behind him, moving towards her with determined strides.

‘No, Dominic!’ She cowered back against the far wall.

There was a strange expression in his eyes, a glazed look that showed her he hadn’t really heard her protest. ‘You made me come up here,’ he muttered, ‘made me follow you to your bedroom. Sara…!’

He loomed over her like a dark shadow, and Sara knew he was right. She
had
made him follow her, whether intentionally or subconsciously she didn’t know. But he was here now, and the outcome of this was as inevitable as the setting of the sun.

She moved forward to meet him, their bodies moulding together like two parts of a broken sculpture. Sara felt truly at home for the first time in days, knew this was where she belonged, where she wanted to be. But with her sister in the next room—–!’

Dominic seemed to sense her withdrawal and let her go with great reluctance, a rueful expression on his face
as he looked down at her. ‘I just can’t keep my hands off you,’ he groaned, running his hands through the thickness of his hair. ‘But this isn’t the place, hmm?’

Her gaze went unwillingly in the direction of Marie’s bedroom. ‘Nowhere is the right place for us. You’ve got to leave me alone, Dominic,’ she pleaded. ‘I can’t say no to you—–’

‘For God’s sake never say no!’ he agonised, his handsome face flushed with wanting her. ‘I need you, Sara. I need your presence here.’

She swallowed hard. ‘A few days ago you wanted me to leave England and never come back.’

‘You know why.’ His gaze was heated. ‘And I’ve been proved right. Every time we meet I—–’ he broke off, biting his lip. ‘My mother liked you.’

‘Did she?’ Sara blushed, knowing what had sparked that comment. His mother must have guessed what had been happening out in the garden, especially after guessing how she felt about Dominic.

‘Very much,’ he nodded. ‘She would like to meet you again.’

‘She will.’ She put a nervous hand up to her hair, thinking what a strange conversation this was to be having in her bedroom. ‘At the party, on Saturday,’ she reminded him.

Dominic smiled. ‘I meant somewhere less public.’

Sara bit into her bottom lip, uncaring of the pain she caused. Physical pain was as nothing compared to the emotional hunger of loving Dominic. ‘Dominic … Your mother, she—she knows,’ she revealed hesitantly.

His eyes narrowed and he stopped his pacing of the room to look at her. ‘Knows what?’

She licked her lips, unaware of how provocative she was being, but suddenly noticing Dominic’s gaze fixed on her mouth. She blushed fiery red. ‘At the party she—she warned me, your mother. She doesn’t approve of—of—–’

‘You?’ he asked furiously, his eyes blazing.