‘Take him into the other room,’ her aunt said in a whisper. ‘It’s tidier in there.’
Sara wasn’t really surprised by the identity of her caller; he had to be someone quite important for her aunt to suggest using the lounge. Even her aunt had recognised the individualism of Dominic Thorne.
‘Yes?’ Sara’s manner wasn’t forthcoming as she fought off feelings of inadequacy. He looked so distinguished in the black evening clothes, showing her denims and tee-shirt up for the casual attire they were.
Dominic Thorne was obviously aware of her clothing too, as his narrowed gaze passed slowly over the length of her body. ‘I hope I haven’t called at an inconvenient time,’ he drawled.
‘Not at all.’ She put her thumbs through the loops of the waistband of her denims, adopting a challenging stance. ‘I’ll probably miss knowing who the murderer was after watching the other hour and a half of the film, but what does that matter?’ Her sarcasm was unmistakable.
His expression hardened. ‘My secretary said you telephoned.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘I didn’t expect a personal visit for the call.’
‘And you aren’t getting one.’ His patience seemed to be wearing thin. ‘I was in the area and I thought I would come and explain the reason Marie let you down this afternoon.’
‘I think I can guess that,’ Sara mocked, her head tilted back defiantly.
‘I doubt it,’ he scowled. ‘Marie suffers from migraine. She had one this afternoon.’
‘I’m sure!’
Dominic stiffened. ‘I am not in the habit of lying.’
Sara’s shrug was deliberately provocative. ‘Once or twice doesn’t make you a habitual liar.’
His hands came out to painfully grasp her arms. ‘I’m sure Marie will call you herself tomorrow and explain why she was unable to meet you.’
‘I’m sure she will. You’ve probably instructed her very well.’ She was being childish now and she knew it. ‘It wasn’t my idea that we meet, Mr Thorne. Marie seemed upset about something—and I think I can guess what that something was,’ she scorned.
His eyes glittered dangerously as he stood looking down at her, their bodies so close they were almost touching. He shook his head. ‘Why did you have to appear in our lives?’ he muttered, seeming to be talking to himself, certainly requiring no answer. ‘You’re a complication I don’t need.’
‘Don’t worry, Mr Thorne,’ she snapped. ‘Another week and I shall leave as suddenly as I arrived.’
He pushed her away from him. ‘I don’t think so.’
Sara stepped back, relieved to be away from his blatant masculinity, having found his warm sensuality disturbing in the extreme. He was engaged to be married, it didn’t seem fair that he could still command attraction in the way that he did, seemingly without volition.
‘Oh, but I shall, Mr Thorne,’ she assured him.
‘No,’ again he shook his head. ‘Would you like to see Marie tomorrow?’ he asked suddenly.
‘I—If she’s feeling better,’ Sara nodded dazedly.
‘She will be,’ he said with certainty. ‘Well, enough to see you, anyway.’ He took out a card, writing on the back of it. ‘Come to this address at twelve-thirty tomorrow. It’s Marie’s home,’ he explained as he handed her the card. ‘I’m sure she would like to see you for lunch.’
‘You’re actually encouraging me to see her?’
He shrugged. ‘Why not? I’m sure you’ll meet anyway, if you want to.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then come to lunch.’
‘Will you be there?’
Dominic smiled, a totally mocking smile. ‘I’m afraid so. Has that put you off coming?’
Sara rose to his challenge. ‘Certainly not!’
‘Very well. Twelve-thirty tomorrow.’
She went with him to the door. ‘I’ll be there.’
He gave a mocking inclination of his arrogant head, and Sara had to restrain herself from slamming the door after him.
‘A friend of yours, dear?’ her aunt asked as she rejoined them.
Sara gave a casual shrug. ‘Just a friend of a friend,’ she dismissed. ‘I met him at the club I went to with Eddie the other night,’ which was basically true. ‘He was in the area and just thought he would call in,’ which was also true.