Forbidden Surrender

Marie seemed to have enthusiasm even for such mundane tasks as packing suitcases. ‘Daddy’s going to be so pleased,’ she said as she stowed Sara’s suitcase in the back of her red sports car, having already taken their leave of Aunt Susan, Sara having promised to visit as often as she could. She had a feeling she was going to need her aunt and uncle’s down-to-earth attitude every now and again.

‘I hope you’re right.’ She got in beside her sister.

‘I am,’ Marie said with certainty. ‘Hey, we could have a party, introduce you to all our friends.’

Sara shied away from such a suggestion. ‘I don’t think so, Marie, not for a while anyway. Let me just get used to being with you and—and Dad first.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ her sister dismissed. ‘You don’t need to get used to us, we’re your family. And I want to show you off to all our friends.’

Sara didn’t put up any more arguments, it was useless against Marie’s determination anyway. Her sister was used to having her own way, and she did it in such a goodnatured way that it was hard to deny her. Even Dominic, a man Sara felt sure could be very ruthless, both in business and his social life, even he gave in to Marie’s slightest whim.

Dominic again! Why couldn’t she just put him out of her mind, forget about him? Or at least stop thinking of him every minute of the day and night!

Marie showed her into the bedroom next to her own. ‘I knew I could persuade you,’ she gave a rueful smile, putting Sara’s case down on the bed, ‘so I had Edith make up your room for you. Do you like it? If you don’t you could always have one of the others. There are six other bedrooms besides Daddy’s and mine, so you can take your pick.’

Sara was sure that none of them could be more comfortable than this, the furniture white and delicate-looking, the carpet a deep brown, the bedspread gold with a dark brown velvet headboard, restful paintings hanging on the brown and gold flower-print wallpaper, the curtains a brown velvet.

‘This will be fine. But are you sure your father—–’

‘Our father,’ Marie corrected firmly. ‘And he won’t mind at all. Just wait until you see how pleased he is!’

Sara was in her room when her father arrived home, but she had looked out of the window as soon as she heard the car—cars. Once again her father hadn’t come home alone, there was the familiar blue Rolls-Royce parked behind her father’s Mercedes. Dominic was to be here to dinner again this evening! Oh well, she was going to have to get used to him being around all the time.

She heard her father go to his room to change, and decided that this was the best time to make her presence known.

‘Hello, darling,’ he answered her knock on his door, for the first time confusing her with Marie. Not that she was surprised, he would hardly expect her to be entering his bedroom. ‘Did you see Sara today?’ he asked eagerly.

Sara felt a lump rise in her throat at the love he already felt for her. ‘Yes,’ she said huskily.

‘I thought she might be here to dinner.’ His eyes were shadowed with his unhappiness.

She smiled, holding out her hands to him. ‘I am,’ she told him softly. ‘I’m here to stay,’ she added reassuringly.

‘Sara?’ He shook his head wonderingly.

She bit her bottom lip to stop it quivering. ‘Yes.’

She was at once pulled into a bear-hug; her father’s body was shaking as he held her to him. When he finally moved back enough to look down at her there was a bright shimmer of tears in his eyes.

‘You don’t know how happy you’ve made me,’ he choked.

‘I think I do.’

He gave a triumphant shout of laughter. ‘Yes, I suppose you do.’ His arm remained about her shoulders. ‘Now, which bedroom are you in?’ She told him. ‘Next to Marie,’ he murmured almost to himself. ‘Oh well,’ he shrugged, ‘it can’t be helped.’

Sara frowned. ‘If you would rather I slept somewhere else…’

‘No,’ he reassured her. ‘No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that sometimes Marie—well, she walks in her sleep.’