Forbidden Surrender

‘Yes.’ Dominic’s eyes were narrowed, his expression stern. ‘Yes,’ he sighed, finishing the brandy in his glass, ‘he’s gone.’

Sara frowned. ‘What did he want?’

He seemed to withdraw from her. ‘Nothing important.’

‘Nothing important!’ she scorned. ‘I thought he was going to kill you!’

His mouth twisted. ‘Nothing so melodramatic. I’ll admit Danny was a little annoyed with me—–’

‘Annoyed? He was furious!’ she persisted.

Dominic shrugged. ‘My brother is always furious about something, he always has been.’

Sara paled. ‘Your—your brother?’

‘Yes,’ he bit out grimly. ‘Danny is my younger brother, didn’t you know that?’

No, she hadn’t known that. What she did know was that Dominic’s own brother was in love with Marie.

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘I—ER—I didn’t know.’ She licked her lips. ‘We didn’t get to meet at your mother’s the other evening.’

‘You didn’t miss much,’ Dominic dismissed scathingly.

‘I’m sure that when he isn’t angry he can be very nice,’ she said primly.

His eyes blazed. ‘Yes, Danny can be charming when he wants to be. Were you attracted to him?’ he demanded tautly.

Sara gasped. ‘Of course not!’

‘Why not?’ He slammed his empty glass down on the table-top. ‘He’s young, presentable—and free!’

‘Ah yes, he’s free,’ she taunted him, seeing the rigid anger in his body. ‘Perhaps you could introduce me to him some time, when he isn’t quite so angry. Hmm?’

Dominic went white. ‘No, I damn well can’t!’ he exploded, pulling her towards him. ‘You aren’t going out with Danny, Sara. Over my dead body will you go out with him!’

Once again she had woken the sleeping tiger; Dominic was now shaking with fury. He didn’t like the idea that she might date his brother, and his jealousy gave her a warm glow.

‘Only joking, Dominic,’ she murmured huskily. ‘I was only joking,’ she smiled, gently touching his rigid cheek.

He clasped her hand in his, taking it to his mouth to feverishly kiss her palm. ‘Don’t tease, Sara,’ he groaned. ‘Not about something like that. As far as you’re concerned I have a very low pain level.’ The doorbell rang. ‘Hell!’ Dominic muttered. ‘That will be Jim and Martha.’

Sara moved deftly away from him as she heard the housekeeper coming to answer the door. ‘I’m not interested in your brother, Dominic,’ she assured him softly. ‘Although I’m willing to like him simply because he is your brother.’

His tension started to ease. ‘Not too much,’ he advised huskily. ‘He had a thing for Marie last year, he might consider you’re a suitable replacement.’

She flinched away from him. ‘Like you do?’ she said bitterly.

‘Sara—–’

‘Your guests, Dominic.’ She turned as the middle-aged couple were shown into the room.

On the whole the evening was a success, although Dominic’s brooding attention on her wasn’t conducive to helping business along. She eventually suggested showing Martha Jarvis the view from the balcony as a means of leaving Dominic alone with Jim.

It was a magnificent view, the whole of London spread before them like a huge lighted carpet, beautiful and dreamlike.

‘It always looks so different like this,’ Martha smiled, a still attractive woman of about fifty. She and her husband came from the North of England, and they obviously missed their daughter and grandson whenever they travelled on business, talking of them constantly.

‘Even likeable?’ Sara teased, knowing that the other couple believed there was nowhere as nice as their beloved North.

Martha goodnaturedly accepted her teasing. ‘I like the shops, but that’s about all I can say in London’s favour.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s a big, dirty place, where people don’t have time for each other.’

Considering that Sara had heard that Northerners were among the most dour people of England she found this comment amazing. Still, who was she to question its validity, having lived in America most of her life?