As soon as he had left Eddie came in, frowning his concern as his sharp gaze took in her white shocked face, her dishevelled appearance. ‘What the hell is going on here?’ he asked concernedly. ‘World War Three? The two Thorne men have just walked out of here looking as if they’ve been in battle, one with a bleeding nose, Dominic Thorne looking as if he would like to hit someone.’
‘Me,’ Sara acknowledged dully. ‘He—he’s a bastard, Eddie. A cold, heartless, mercenary bastard.’ She began to shiver, even though the room was very warm. ‘Get me out of here, Eddie,’ she cried her desperation. ‘Get me away from here!’
‘All right, love,’ his arm came protectively about her shoulders.
‘Out through the french doors. Don’t make me see anyone.’ She couldn’t face all those people in the other room.
He took her to his flat over his garage, a comfortable two-bedroomed flat. He poured her out a glass of whisky, watching while she drank it all down.
‘Now,’ he sat down, holding her hands in his, ‘tell me about it.’
‘I—I can’t!’ she collapsed sobbingly against his chest, knowing she couldn’t discuss Marie with him, not until she had spoken to her father and sister. ‘I just can’t, Eddie!’ She looked up at him appealingly.
‘All right, love.’ He smoothed her hair back with gentle fingers. ‘Just sit here with me and don’t worry about a thing. No one can touch you here, I won’t let them.’
She knew that he wouldn’t, felt confident of his ability to protect her. She certainly wasn’t able to protect or help herself, her thoughts were all on Marie and the injury that was going to take her from them.
And then there were the terrible things she had said to Dominic, the awful damning things said in the heat of the moment. She couldn’t really believe the things she had said to him, had hit out at him because he happened to be there, not because she really meant those things.
But he wouldn’t know that, and she doubted he would give her the chance to tell him. Besides, she might not believe that about him, but he had still made love to her while intending to marry Marie.
When she woke up all was silent about her, the only light in the room from the electric fire Eddie must have switched on while she slept. Her head was resting on the slow rise and fall of his chest, his relaxed pose telling her of his own slumbers.
She moved gingerly, stretched her cramped limbs. ‘Sorry,’ she said ruefully as Eddie’s eyes instantly opened. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘You didn’t.’ He sat up too. ‘I wasn’t really asleep, just resting.’ He looked at her searchingly. ‘How do you feel now?’
‘Stiff,’ she grimaced. ‘What time is it?’
‘Almost three o’clock,’ he supplied.
‘Oh, God!’ she groaned, putting a hand up to her temple. ‘They’ll be wondering where I am.’
‘No, they won’t,’ Eddie said quietly. ‘I telephoned your father and told him you were with me. He told me everything, Sara,’ he added softly.
She at once looked stricken, as the memory of the evening just past came painfully back to her. ‘Everything?’ she croaked.
He nodded. ‘Yes. I told him I would take you home when you’re ready.’
Sara shivered. ‘I’ll never be ready to go back and accept that!’
Eddie’s hand covered hers. ‘You can’t make it go away by ignoring it.’
‘She’s too young, Eddie,’ Sara groaned.
He nodded, compassion in his eyes. ‘And she has everything to live for, a father and a sister who love her, and a fiancée who would sacrifice his own happiness to make her happy.’
Sara gave him a sharp look. ‘You mean Dominic?’
‘Of course.’
‘What do you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘I mean he likes Marie to be—happy.’
Yes, she knew that! Something else that should have told her it was Marie she was in danger of losing. Dominic was obsessed with seeing that Marie had everything she possibly could to make her happy.
‘We all do,’ she said huskily.