Forbidden Surrender. Carole Mortimer

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      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.’

      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.’

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