Forbidden Surrender

‘Hardly impersonating,’ Dominic Thorne replied, completely in control of himself again, and the situation. ‘Miss Hamille has been acting as herself, it’s others who have taken her to be you.’ He looked at Sara with narrowed eyes. ‘I believe I owe you an apology,’ he said, as if the words didn’t come easily to him, as if he rarely had to admit to being in the wrong.

‘Let’s move away from the doorway,’ Marie suggested lightly. Her voice was completely different from Sara’s, her education obviously having been in one of England’s finest boarding-schools. ‘We’re attracting a lot of attention standing here.’

‘I’m afraid that’s my fault,’ Sara admitted as they moved to a less prominent part of the room. ‘The people here refused to believe I wasn’t Marie Lindlay, and now that you’ve arrived …’ she shrugged.

‘Ooh, how lovely!’ Marie clapped her hands in delight. ‘Isn’t this fun, Dominic?’ she exclaimed.

‘I doubt Miss Hamille has thought it so, it can’t have been easy being thought to be you,’ he added dryly.

‘Oh, Dominic!’ Marie pouted prettily.

He turned to look at Sara, his eyes once again registering his shock at her likeness to his fiancée. ‘I really must apologise for my behaviour yesterday evening.’ His voice was stilted, his manner haughty. ‘You must have thought me very strange.’

Sara flushed. ‘And you must have thought me even stranger.’

‘Not really,’ he shook his head.

Marie gave a tinkling laugh, her long blonde hair brushed free about her shoulders. ‘Dominic has this mad idea that I keep going off with other men.’ She looked up at him through dark, silky, lashes. ‘Don’t you, my jealous darling?’

Sara found Marie’s clinging behaviour where Dominic Thorne was concerned rather uncomfortable to watch. The reason for this feeling was easily explained; it was like watching herself—and she knew she could never act that way with this arrogant man.

But maybe Dominic Thorne had reason to be suspicious of Marie. The man in Soho had certainly been more than a friend to her.

‘I’m sure Miss Hamille isn’t interested in what I do or do not think,’ he said curtly. ‘Now don’t you think we should make our presence known to Cynthia?’

It was a deliberate snub, but not one Marie seemed about to endorse. ‘I can’t lose sight of my double now. Just think of the fun we could have, Sara,’ her eyes lit up with pleasure. ‘We could play some terrific tricks on people!’ She turned Sara towards the mirror that adorned the wall behind them. ‘It’s incredible,’ she said breathlessly, staring at their reflections.

And it was incredible, the likeness was uncanny. Sara’s hair was possibly a little lighter in colour, bleached by years under the Florida sun, and her skin was a more golden colour against Marie’s magnolia colouring, but other than that they were identical—the same height, the same features, even the same slender fingers, but a huge diamond ring sparkled on the third finger of Marie’s left hand.

‘I think unbelievable is a more apt word.’ Dominic Thorne came to stand between them. ‘Have you always looked like this, Miss Hamille?’ The question was almost an accusation.

She flushed at his tone. ‘Are you implying I’ve had plastic surgery to make me look like Marie? Because I can assure you I haven’t,’ she said indignantly.

‘No, she hasn’t,’ Pete cut in, indignant on her behalf. ‘I can spot that sort of thing a mile away. Sara was born with that face.’

‘Well, I can assure you I haven’t had plastic surgery, Dominic,’ Marie told her fiancée.

‘Considering I’ve known you since you were ten years old I would say that was obvious,’ he scorned. ‘But there has to be some explanation for this.’

‘I can’t think of one,’ Marie dismissed. ‘Come on, Sara, we’ll go and show Cynthia you aren’t a liar at all.’ She took Sara by the arm and led her away.

Sara was fuming, aware of the fact that Dominic Thorne didn’t like her, distrusted her. Plastic surgery indeed!