Forbidden Surrender

She blushed, taking that hand. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Thorne,’ she said shyly.

The other woman shook her head. ‘Your likeness to Marie is incredible!’

Sara smiled. ‘And yet you knew the difference.’

Diane Thorne glanced at her son. ‘Go and get Sara and me a drink, darling.’

For a moment Dominic looked like ignoring that imperious demand, then with an angry glare at his mother he turned and walked in the direction of the bar.

Both women watched him go, Sara with relief, and his mother with—Sara couldn’t tell the other woman’s feelings, deliberately so, she felt.

‘My father and Marie—–’

‘Are talking to my other son,’ Diane Thorne nodded.

Sara’s eyes widened. ‘I didn’t realise you had another son.’

‘And a daughter too. I’ll introduce you to them both later, and to Samantha’s husband Brett. They’re expecting their first child soon, my first grandchild.’ She smiled. ‘I’m not sure I’ll like being a grandmother, it’s very ageing,’ she grimaced.

Sara laughed at her rueful expression. ‘My mother always said you’re only as old as you feel.’

‘A good saying.’ Blue eyes twinkled merrily. ‘As long as you don’t feel a hundred at the time!’

Sara spluttered with laughter. ‘I know that feeling.’

‘Dominic tells me you’re a model,’ Mrs Thorne said interestedly.

She frowned at the mention of Dominic. ‘I was. I’m not sure what I am any more,’ She shrugged. ‘My father doesn’t appear to approve of women working for a living.’

‘You mean Marie?’

‘Mm,’ Sara nodded.

Diane Thorne shrugged. ‘I’m sure your father will respect your wish for independence. Marie is different, she likes acting as hostess. She’s going to make Dominic a wonderful wife.’

‘Yes,’ Sara agreed hollowly, watching Dominic as he strode across the room towards them, the requested drinks in his capable hands.

His mother gently touched her arm. ‘Don’t,’ she pleaded huskily.

Sara looked stricken. ‘Don’t what, Mrs Thorne?’

The other woman’s eyes were filled with compassion. ‘Don’t love my son, Sara.’

‘I—–’

‘Here we are.’ Dominic handed his mother her drink, frowning as he looked at Sara’s pale face. ‘Sara?’ he queried sharply. ‘Sara, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Nothing is wrong! I—Excuse me.’ She pushed past him, heading for the open doors that led to the moonlit garden. She trembled in the warmth of the evening, wondering how Diane Thorne had guessed her feelings so quickly.

‘Sara!’ Dominic spun her round to face him, forcing her chin up. ‘What did my mother say to you?’ he rasped.

‘I—Nothing.’ She looked down at her feet. ‘I—I just felt faint for a moment.’ She forced a smile to her numb lips. ‘I’m all right now. Shall we go back inside?’ She made a move towards the door.

‘No!’ Dominic stopped her, a fevered look in his eyes. ‘I want to know what my mother said.’

‘She—she—Oh, what does it matter?’ she dismissed impatiently, her gaze locked on the strength of his face, the sensuousness of his firm mouth, and she couldn’t break free of the spell he was casting on her. ‘Dominic!’ she groaned, swaying into his arms.

He needed no further encouragement, but devoured her lips with his own, his arms like steel bands about her. Their hearts beat as one, their desire flamed as one, their mouths joined even if their bodies couldn’t be.

‘Oh God, Sara,’ Dominic moaned into her throat, his mouth sending liquid fire through her veins. ‘I want you so damned much!’ he agonised, his lips touching the firm curve of her breasts.

She feverishly unbuttoned his shirt, her hands moving inside to caress the hard strength of his back and chest. She had never touched a man this intimately, loving the silky texture of his skin, the ripple of muscles as he quivered beneath her touch. He felt so good, so sensually warm and exciting that Sara just wanted to lose herself against him, and she knew he felt the same way, could feel the throbbing hardness of his thighs, his ragged breathing as her fingertips caressed lower to his waist.