Forbidden Love

CHAPTER ONE ‘Mary! How are you?’ Sarah blinked up at the tall, attractive man in front of her, smiling her regret. ‘I’m sorry,’ her American accent was very noticeable against his English one, ‘I’m afraid you have the wrong person.’ She turned away with an apologetic smile, wishing that she could have been the absent Mary. This man was handsome, possibly in his early to mid-twenties, and by the expression in his gorgeous, twinkling blue eyes, he looked as if he could be fun to be around. He firmly took hold of her arm and pulled, stopping her from crossing the road. ‘Hey, I’m not going to tell Nicholas that you were wandering around Soho on your own.’ Sarah frowned, her deep brown eyes puzzled, a startling contrast to her long golden blonde hair. Hair that had been bleached by years under the Florida sun. Having spent the majority of her life in America, she had been curious to see the country where she had been born. It was the country she had lived in until she was a year old before she was taken to start a new life in America by her mother after the untimely death of her father. ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated to the young man, ‘but you must be mistaken.’ But he stood and looked as if he remained unconvinced. ‘You know, I love the accent,’ he grinned, ‘but I know you far too well to be fooled by an accent.’ He put his arm around her waist gently; his fingers spread dangerously close to her breast. Sarah stiffened, revising her opinion of him. He was a flirt, and he sounded as if he and Mary were far more than just your average, run of the mill casual acquaintances. She gave him a cold, hard stare. ‘Would you kindly take your hands off of me?’ She made her request haughtily as she flicked her long hair back over her shoulder. He frowned as he looked down at her, but he made no effort to let her go. ‘There’s no need to be like this, Mary. I admit I’m a bit sore about the way you ended things between us last year, but Nicholas—’ Sarah squirmed away from him. ‘I don’t know any Nicholas, and I don’t know you either, sir. If you don’t let go of me, I’ll call the police!’ She looked around for a policeman, never having thought anyone would try to pick her up so openly. It was the middle of the afternoon, for crying out loud. She had gotten lost during a sightseeing session, and she certainly hadn’t expected to be accosted like this. ‘Okay, okay,’ the man grimaced, ‘there’s no need to get nasty. If you want to keep up this odd pretense of being an American tourist, then that’s all right with me.’ He shrugged. She wasn’t pretending to be anything, an American tourist was precisely what she was, although this wasn’t a very high-class area to have got lost in. She only hoped Aunt Brenda didn’t go home without her. Just having been in this country a couple of days herself she had no idea of the way back to Aunt Brenda’s house. ‘Maybe I could be your guide?’ The man gave her a sideways glance. ‘Hey, that could be fun, Mary. We could—’ ‘I already have a guide,’ she interrupted him, annoyed by the fact that he still believed her to be this other woman. It would seem he knew Mary very well, which made his frustrating, stubborn obstinacy as to her identity all the more surprising. Unless this happened to be the way, he usually picked his women up! ‘Oh, I see,’ he smiled bitterly. ‘I bet Nicholas doesn’t know about this—and I wish to God I didn’t!’ He bent forward and kissed her hastily on the mouth. ‘See you at the weekend,’ was his parting shot. Sarah stared after him confused and dazed. She wasn’t a total prude. Obviously, she'd been kissed before, but never by a complete stranger. And he had been so respectable and handsome to look at too, his black pinstriped suit and snowy white shirt immaculate. ‘Sarah!’ Her plump. Aunt Brenda arrived breathlessly in front of her. ‘Thank goodness I’ve found you!’ Sarah turned, the flirtatious stranger was already swallowed up in the crowd. ‘There you are. I must have lost you in that last shop,’ she smiled her apology. Brenda Ford was a pleasantly plump lady of forty-eight, her blonde hair kept the same gold as Sarah’s by a light tint every couple of months, her face still youthfully smooth and attractive. She was Sarah’s mother’s sister, and, though the sisters had been separated for the last twenty or so years, their letters to each other had been numerous, so much so that Sarah felt as if she had already known her aunt when they had met a couple of days ago and she had found herself instantly liking her aunt. This trip to England wasn’t exactly a holiday to Sarah, more of a convalescence type of trip. Six months previous, her mother and stepfather had been killed in a car accident. Besides leaving her orphaned, it had also left her with two broken legs, utterly ruining the modeling career that had just been starting to launch itself. It had taken six months for the scars to heal, both the emotional and physical ones, and on her final dismissal from the doctor she had arranged this trip to visit her English relatives, finding herself to be a wealthy young woman on the death of her stepfather, Richard Hamile. They had been a close family, Sarah being adopted by Richard when he had married her mother, and to suddenly find herself alone was very bewildering. Her Aunt Brenda had instantly taken her to her heart, she and Uncle Art having no children of their own. Sarah felt comfortable and at home with them. She felt at home with all of England, and in large part, she knew she would be very sad to go when the time finally came. Still, that wouldn’t be for another couple of weeks yet. ‘Who was that man?’ her aunt frowned. ‘The one I saw you talking to?’ Sarah shrugged, and they fell into step together, making their way back to the busy city center on foot. ‘I have no idea,’ she answered her aunt. Her eyes widened. ‘You mean you didn’t know him?’ Sarah shook her head. ‘No.’ ‘But I watched him kiss you!’ Her aunt sounded scandalized. Sarah grinned scandalously. ‘I think he was just trying to pick me up. It wasn’t a great approach, though. And he pretended that he thought I was someone else.’ She shook her head. ‘That's not very original!’ ‘Who did he think you were?’ She shrugged. ‘Someone named Mary. I wouldn’t have minded, but he seemed so insistent that I was Mary. Oh well,’ she dismissed, ‘he’ll have to chalk this one down to a great big no.’ ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ her aunt agreed vaguely, clearly uninterested in the events preceding. ‘Now, just where were we? Oh yes, if we turn here, we should be close to the underground. Should we go home and have a cup of tea? I’m absolutely dying for a cup of tea.’ Sarah grinned back at her, her face alight with a youthful mischief. Her features were strikingly beautiful, her eyes full and a deep, dark brown. They were heavily fringed by long, black lashes. Her nose was short, and her mouth was full and smiling. Her teeth were very white against her golden skin. Her body was tall and supple. She was long-legged and very slender. Her looks were utterly invaluable in her profession, and she hoped to return to modeling when she went back to the USA. ‘Oh, you and your tea!’ she scolded her Aunt. After only a couple of days, she was already well aware of her aunt’s total weakness for the warm brew. She seemed to drink gallons of the stuff. Sarah preferred coffee herself, but she readily agreed with the idea of going home for a little refreshment; the visit to Buckingham Palace and the Houses of Parliament had tired her out. Uncle Art came in fairly soon after they arrived back home. Uncle Art was a short and stocky man, going a little thin on top, his sparse brown hair going slightly grey now. ‘I have a surprise for you, my love,’ he beamed at Sarah as they ate their dinner. ‘I’ve invited Edward to stop by this evening. He's my nephew through my sister, Jean. I thought you may enjoy a bit of a more youthful crowd for a change.’ Sarah hid her irritation. Her aunt and uncle had shown such kindness to her, and it was ungrateful of her not to appreciate every single act of kindness. They had no way of knowing of her recent disillusionment, of the way Nick had disappointed her when she needed him the most. No one knew how he had left her, totally lovelessly, her when the accident had temporarily stolen her ability to walk into a room with Nick and make one of his usual grand entrances. Nick was an up-and-coming actor, had appeared in several television serials, and he ranked his worth much higher than any television producer had yet had the foresight to do. Sarah had been dating him a couple of months before the accident, not realizing that her main attraction had been her undeniable beauty and her original way of dressing. Nick had replaced her within a day of the accident, having no time for her grief or her injuries. So at that very moment, she wasn’t particularly keen on men. ‘That will be nice,’ she gave a bright smile. ‘I hope so,’ her uncle nodded, settling back in his armchair. ‘He’s a good, young lad, works hard in a garage.’ ‘He doesn’t work in a garage, Art,’ his wife chided. ‘He owns one, dear,’ she told Sarah. ‘And he pays other people to do the work.’ Sarah felt sure Edward wouldn’t agree with that, the poor man was probably worked off his feet. It wasn’t leisurely running a business; she knew that. Her stepfather had run an advertising firm, and he had often come home utterly exhausted. Edward probably felt the same way most of the time. ‘It’s nice of him to spare the time,’ she said in all honesty. ‘Well, he did take a bit of persuading,’ her uncle told her, ‘but I managed to talk him round.’ After Nick’s desertion of her, this wasn’t precisely a booster for her morale. It was because of Edward’s apparent reluctance to meet her that she took special care over her appearance that evening. Her silky suit was in pale lilac, the narrow belt that fitted over the shirt top in a deep purple color. Her shoes matched the color of the belt; her legs were long and silky beneath the straight skirt. She was aiming to knock his eyes out, so her makeup was dramatic, to show him that his time hadn’t been wasted. When she heard him arrive she checked her appearance. Her hair, newly washed, fell in gentle waves halfway down her back, shaped in casual curls either side of her face. Yes, she looked at the top model she had rapidly been becoming until the accident, and if Edward weren’t impressed, now he never would be. He was. It was clearly evident by the widening of his intense blue eyes, by the way he slowly rose to his feet, his gaze was appraising. ‘Hi,’ she greeted him huskily, giving him her most glittering smile. ‘I’m Sarah, and you must be Edward.’ She held out her hand in a quiet, polite manner. He took her hand, seemingly reluctant to let it go again. His grip was firm and work-worn, the nails kept short and clean. He was a man possibly in his late twenties, his hair sandy-blond, his face attractive, his dress casual in the extreme, his denim faded, his shirt unbuttoned part way down his chest. ‘It's very nice to meet you,’ he gave a wide, appreciative smile. ‘Uncle Art didn’t tell me how—Well, he didn’t say—You’re gorgeous!’ he grinned. Sarah gave a happy laugh, at last managing to release her hand. ‘Thank you, kind sir,’ she curtseyed. ‘Uncle Art wasn’t too descriptive about you either,’ she admitted, instantly liking this man. Edward nodded his head understandingly. ‘I bet you expected me to be wearing an overall, with oil under my fingernails,’ he derided. ‘Something like that,’ she gave a rueful smile. ‘Although Aunt Brenda assured me you didn’t actually work in your garage.’ Her eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘Charming!’ She exploded with laughter at his disgusted, sickened expression. ‘I’m sure she didn’t actually mean it the way I just made it sound.’ Her aunt and uncle had taken advantage of Edward’s visit and gone to visit some friends for the evening. ‘Hey, you’re all right,’ Edward smiled down at her. ‘Would you fancy coming out for a pint with me? A beer,’ he explained when he noticed her puzzled expression. ‘I’d absolutely love to,’ she said, accepting the invitation eagerly. She'd never been inside a ‘locals’ place before, had never even seen the inside of a bar. Her mother and stepfather were very protective of her, vetting most of her friends, and keeping her close within their circle. She loved the pub they went to and loved the beer Edward made her try. She even enjoyed the friendly and warm atmosphere, and most of all she loved the people. She was immediately accepted into Edward’s crowd and persuaded to join in a game of darts, a sport she was utterly hopeless. But she had a ton of fun trying. It didn't really seem like anyone minded her inability to hit the board on her last two throws. ‘That was so much fun!’ She gave Edward a glowing smile on the drive back to her aunt and uncle’s house. ‘I'm glad you enjoyed it. Would you care to come out with me again?’ He quirked one eyebrow enquiringly. ‘I’d love to!’ Sarah’s face glowed. ‘Tomorrow?’ She looked uncertain. ‘I’m not sure what plans Aunt Brenda, and Uncle Art have for me. You see—’ ‘It’s okay, Sarah,’ he cut in dryly, ‘I realize I’m not the sort of man you normally go out with.’ She blushed at his intended rebuke. ‘I didn’t mean that.’ ‘But it is true, isn’t it? You were like a child out there tonight, enjoying each new experience with eagerness. Uncle Art told me you were a rich kid, in the executive bracket.’ Sarah bit her lip, knowing she had hurt him. ‘But I did enjoy tonight, and I—I’m really sorry if I embarrassed you with all of my enthusiasm. I didn’t mean to.’ Edward sighed. ‘You didn’t. You were a great success, and you know you were. Maybe that’s why I’m so annoyed—I was jealous of half the men there tonight.’ Sarah relaxed somewhat. She was back on familiar territory that she knew she could handle. ‘You did not need to be. I never forget who took me on a date. And, no matter what, I always make it a point to leave with that person.’ ‘So it’s still on for tomorrow if Aunt Brenda and Uncle Art don’t have any other marvelous plans for you? And this time I’ll take you somewhere that I know I can have you all to myself.’ She wasn’t so sure his single-minded interest was a actually good thing. She would be going back to the USA soon, within two or three weeks at the most, and it wouldn’t do for Edward to become involved with her, not deeply involved. When she got back home she intended to concentrate exclusively on her career; there would be no time for a romantic rendezvous. ‘Sarah?’ Edward asked. ‘Sorry. What did you have in mind?’ He shrugged. ‘How about a meal and then a club?’ ‘It sounds delightful,’ she accepted, deciding she could deal with Edward’s interest in her if and when it started to become serious. She liked him, he was fun, and there could be no harm in them going out together. ‘What time should I be up and ready?’ ‘Oh, how about eight o'clock.’ He stopped the car outside the house. ‘Would you like to come inside for a coffee or tea?’ she invited. ‘Not tonight, but thank you. I really appreciate the offer. But if I know Aunt Brenda and Uncle Art, they’ll have gone to bed long ago, and I wouldn’t want to disturb them. You’d better ask them for a door key for tomorrow so we can be late.’ ‘Not too late, I hope,’ Sarah frowned. ‘I do actually need my beauty sleep,’ she added lightly. ‘I hadn’t noticed,’ he teased. She smiled. ‘I don’t want to be too late. I don’t keep late hours anymore.’ Since she'd left the hospital, she had taken life at a slow pace, going to bed early and waking up late. ‘Okay,’ Edward sighed lightly. ‘I’ll make sure to have you home by midnight—Cinderella. But you should still ask for a key; they’re usually in bed by ten every night.’ She knew that, and for the last couple of nights, she had done the same thing. ‘I’ll ask,’ she promised. ‘And thanks again for tonight, I had such a great time.’ ‘Was it enough of a great time to kiss me goodnight?’ She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘Goodnight,’ she called before hurrying into the house. They had both been wrong; her aunt and uncle weren’t in bed at all, they were still in the lounge. ‘But it’s still worrying,’ Aunt Brenda could be heard insisting. ‘You’re worrying over nothing,’ her husband scolded her. ‘Just forget about it, it didn’t mean a thing.’ ‘But, Art—’ ‘Brenda!’ he said sternly. ‘I think I just heard Sarah come in, so let’s just drop the subject now before it's too late.' Sarah shrugged to herself, coughing to let them know of her presence in the house. Her mother and stepfather often had small arguments, but they usually passed within a day or so, and she felt sure things were no different between her aunt and uncle. All in all, the middle-aged couple seemed very happy together. ‘Did you have a nice time tonight, dear?’ her aunt asked as she entered the room. ‘It was lovely,’ she nodded agreement. ‘Are you going out with him again?’ Uncle Art eyed her over the top of his horn-rimmed glasses. Sarah blushed. ‘Tomorrow, actually.’ ‘Hear that, Brenda?’ he turned to his wife. ‘Before you know it we’ll have a wedding to plan on our hands.’ ‘Art!’ she warned. ‘I’m not getting married for years, Uncle Art,’ Sarah told him hastily. ‘I’m only twenty, not even twenty-one yet.’ ‘Brenda and I had already been married two years by that time.’ ‘It was different when we were young, Art,’ his wife chided. ‘There’s so much for young people to do nowadays, places to see, that they don’t want to tie themselves down to marriage too young.’ He raised his eyebrows, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘After all these years she finally tells me she married me out of boredom!’ He winked at Sarah. ‘Go on with you!’ his wife scorned. ‘Where’s Edward taking you tomorrow?’ she turned to ask Sarah. ‘Out to dinner and then on to a club, he said.’ Her aunt and uncle’s interest in her evening out was nothing unusual to Sarah, her mother had always been interested in such things too, and it was in fact quite like home sitting and chatting like this after an enjoyable evening out. ‘Better than a trip to a pub,’ Uncle Art teased. ‘I liked the pub.’ Sarah had been quite disappointed that Edward had decided not to take her back there. Aunt Brenda stood up, putting down her knitting. ‘Well, I’m for bed. Art?’ ‘I am too.’ He stood up, stretching. ‘It’s nice having you with us, love,’ he told Sarah huskily. She moved to hug him, tears in her eyes. ‘It’s nice to be here. I wish now I ’d come sooner, instead of waiting until—’ she broke off, stricken. Her uncle patted her shoulder awkwardly. ‘It’s all right, Sarah. We’re your family now, for as long as you want us.’ ‘Thank you.’ She kissed them both on the cheek before hurrying back to her room to retire for the night. The tears flowed as soon as she closed her bedroom door; the loss of her parents was still a very raw wound. Without Aunt Brenda and Uncle Art’s support the last few days she didn’t know how she would have survived; some of the moods of depression she had suffered in the States had been very dark indeed. * * *