The Jilted Bridegroom

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Where have you been?’ Stephen demanded. ‘Breakfast sounds awful. Sally’s been mean to me. And your bed wasn’t slept in last night,’ he accused indignantly, obviously upset at having comfortable routine put out in this way.

  ‘Stephen!’ Clarissa glared at her youngest offspring, glancing uncomfortably at Griff as he stood slightly behind Sarah across the room.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t,’ he added rebelliously, determined to have the last word.

  ‘Stephen…’ his father spoke quietly, but with a steely quality in his voice that couldn’t be ignored, even by his younger son, Stephen looking up at him with widely surprised eyes. ‘… shut up,’ Roger told him coldly.

  Sarah felt more uncomfortable than ever in the black dress after the exchange!

  ‘I’m not staying,’ she assured them all drily, her gaze scathing as it rested on each of them in turn.

  Stephen still looked rebellious from his father’s rebuke, but was silent none the less, Sally had a secretive little smile playing about her lips, Ben was looking questioningly from Sarah to Griff and then back again, Roger looked uncomfortable with the whole situation, and Clarissa looked—it was difficult to tell how Clarissa looked; she seemed flustered, completely unlike herself.

  Sarah frowned.

  ‘You may have to,’ Clarissa told her in a harassed voice.

  Sarah shook her head. ‘I’ll get a flight back to England some time, and until I do I’ll find somewhere in Nice to stay.’

  ‘That isn’t what I meant at all,’ Clarissa told her restlessly. ‘Oh, this is so awful! Roger, do something!. What am I going to tell Margaret?’ she added with a distressed wail.

  There was no doubting that Sarah’s mother would be upset at this rift between her daughter and her oldest friend, but Sarah felt sure they could all smooth it over somehow.

  ‘Leave that to me,’ she assured softly.

  Clarissa put up a hand to her untidy red hair, shaking her head. ‘You don’t understand.’

  Sarah’s frown deepened. Clarissa certainly hadn’t seemed this upset last night.

  ‘Sarah…’ Roger stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of her. He briefly chewed on his bottom lip as he glanced at the stony-faced man standing to the side of Sarah, his expression one of appeal as he turned back to Sarah. ‘Last night, after you had gone,’ he paused awkwardly, breathing deeply, ‘Clarissa realised—discovered,’ he amended as his wife gave a tiny gasp, ‘that her diamond bracelet was missing.’ The last came out in a rush, Roger looking slightly nauseous now.

  Sarah knew the bracelet he was talking about; Clarissa wore it most evenings when she went out, a large garish affair of gold and diamonds that must have cost a small fortune.

  No wonder Clarissa looked harassed this morning!

  ‘We haven’t called in the police,’ Roger added uncomfortably. ‘We’re going to have a good look around the villa for it first, with your help, hopefully, and trust that it—turns up.’ He shifted awkwardly, his dismissive shrug not quite coming off, looking sicker than ever, his face pale.

  Sarah looked wordlessly from the gaunt-faced Clarissa to Roger, who looked more stricken than anything else.

  Stephen watched her with mouth agape; Sally looked at her challengingly; Ben didn’t seem to know where to look.

  Sarah turned back to Clarissa and Roger, didn’t need for either of them to say that when they hoped the bracelet would ‘turn up’ what they really meant was they hoped the diamond bracelet would be returned to them without any more fuss.

  They both thought she had taken it!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘SMUG-FACED little—’ Griff broke off furiously. ‘I’d like to have—’

  ‘Roger wasn’t smug at all,’ Sarah said dully. ‘Of them all he looked the most upset.’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about him,’ Griff grated contemptuously. ‘The daughter looked like the proverbial cat that got the cream,’ he recalled grimly.

  The last half an hour had been a nightmare—when hadn’t this working holiday, one way or another?

  There could be no question of her leaving France now, not until the bracelet had been found. To do so, Sarah felt, would only add to the conviction the Forbes family seemed to have that she was the guilty one. Her claim that she didn’t even like the bracelet that had gone missing had been dealt with by Sally, who had pointed out she could have taken the bracelet out of spite.

  That had been when Griff had stepped in!

  He had been remarkably controlled during the exchange, but this last bit had been too much for him, telling the Forbeses that she was leaving with him once she had packed her clothes, that she wouldn’t be helping them look for anything, they could do their own dirty work, that Sarah could be contacted at the neighbouring villa if absolutely necessary, but that the next time they spoke to her it had better be with an apology first, otherwise none of them had better come near her at all!

  Sarah had been choked with emotion at his absolute faith in her innocence. He didn’t really know her that well, after all, and even someone who did know her, given the circumstancial evidence—that of the bracelet’s having disappeared at the same time as she had stormed out—could be forgiven for doubting her.

  Not that she thought she would really have forgiven them, but it gave her a warm glow inside to know that Griff hadn’t even hesitated in his total belief in her.

  She didn’t know how she could have coped with her packing and leaving the Forbes villa without his help, Griff keeping all the family at bay while she’d got her things together, Sarah very careful not to leave anything of hers behind; she had no intention of coming near this family again if she could prevent it!

  She had been shaking so badly by the time she’d left that without Griff’s hand under her arm she’d felt as if she might have collapsed, grateful for his help in getting into the car too, her gaze fixed rigidly in front of her as they’d driven out of the driveway.

  ‘In fact,’ Griff added slowly as they turned in at his sister’s villa, ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Sally didn’t have something to do with the missing bracelet herself.’

  Sarah frowned as she looked at him. ‘Surely not…?’ she protested, and yet Sally’s triumphant look last night and the smug look on her face this morning came to mind.

  ‘Why not?’ Griff challenged, parking the car. ‘She was willing to go to any lengths last night to try and discredit you, so why should she stop at theft?’ He looked grim.

  Put like that, it did sound possible, but… Surely Sally didn’t dislike her that much?

  Griff’s face was still grim as he opened the car door for her to get out. ‘Let’s hope Roger Forbes realises what a vicious little madam his daughter is, before she causes real damage.’

  The missing bracelet felt like a dark shadow hanging over Sarah, and the thought of staying here with Griff, after her response to him last night, filled her with trepidation. She didn’t seem to have any control over her emotions where this man was concerned, knew without a doubt that the two of them would become lovers if she stayed on here with him.

  But the thought of finding somewhere on her own with this sword hanging over her head just waiting to drop was an unpleasant prospect.

  And so she had made no protest when Griff had claimed she would be staying with him.

  ‘Anyway,’ he added briskly as he watched the emotions chasing across her face, ‘we aren’t going to sit around here all day moping.’

  Sarah got out of the car to stand beside him in the hot sun. ‘We aren’t?’ she derided drily, knowing her mood was being forced.

  ‘No,’ he told her decisively. ‘We’re going to get our beach things together and go down to Juan-les-Pins.’

  She looked up at him with dismay. ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘No buts, Sarah,’ he cut in firmly, taking her suitcase in one hand and a hold of her arm with the other before walking down to his sister’s villa. ‘A day out on the beach will do us both good.’

/>   She still held back. ‘But your work—’

  ‘Will still be there tomorrow,’ he dismissed with a sigh, carrying her suitcase straight through to the bedroom she had used the previous night, depositing it on the floor. ‘Actually, that’s one of the things I’m finding so difficult about writing a book.’ He frowned. ‘When I do a story I have a deadline; with writing a book, one you don’t yet have a publisher for, you have to exercise so much more self-discipline, because there is no editor in the background telling you to get on with it.’

  ‘I’m telling you,’ she reminded him drily. ‘I know,’ she gave a half-smile, ‘it isn’t the same. Couldn’t you… sort of make your own deadline inside your head? Give yourself a certain amount of time to get it finished?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t seem to be having much luck with that idea at the moment.’

  And having her invade his solitude couldn’t be helping the situation. But he was adamant that she stay here. And she had to be honest and admit she would rather be here with him than anywhere else. Even if she was sure to get hurt for having been stupid enough to fall in love with him…

  ‘You get your costume,’ Griff instructed now. ‘I’ll get us some extra towels.’

  She had thought the emerald-coloured bikini she had with her quite daring when she’d bought it, but on the one trip the family had made to the beach at Juan-les-Pins Clarissa and Sally had gone topless, as so many of the other women on the beach had done too.

  Sarah hadn’t been that daring.

  As she wasn’t going to be today either, packing both pieces of the bikini in her beach-bag, Griff waiting in the lounge by the time she joined him.

  ‘I’ve booked us into a restaurant in the village for dinner tonight,’ he informed her as he stowed their things away in the boot of the car.

  He hadn’t wasted any time, must have made the call during the few minutes she’d looked through her case for her bikini!

  ‘I would have been quite happy to have a sandwich or something at the villa,’ she protested.

  ‘We can do that another night,’ he dismissed. ‘Tonight we’ll eat out. You look as if a good rest from any housework wouldn’t do you any harm,’ he rasped. ‘And I intend to see that you get one.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I told you before,’ he glanced at her reprovingly as he drove the car capably along the road towards Nice, ‘no buts. Now just sit there and enjoy the drive and stop worrying.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she derided.

  He gave a rueful smile. ‘I’m not usually this bossy, but with you I seem to have to be.’

  Tears filled her eyes without warning. ‘You’ve been very kind to me—’

  ‘I want to see you happy.’ His hand reached out and clasped hers. ‘I want all those people just to leave you alone, to see you laughing and talking without the shadow of them hanging over you.’

  He knew how she felt without her having to say a word.

  This was one of the things that had made her fall in love with him so easily and so quickly, the rapport they seemed to have that enabled him almost to know what she was feeling and thinking before she knew it herself.

  It could be disconcerting.

  ‘Forget the lot of them,’ he instructed again. ‘They’re just too ignorant to be of any importance. Besides,’ he added lightly, ‘the day is young and I am beautiful!’ He arched dark brows suggestively.

  Sarah couldn’t help but laugh as he moved his eyebrows up and down and twiddled an imaginary moustache. ‘Oh, Thir Jathper,’ she lisped, fluttering her eyelashes at him coyly, ‘you’re tho tewibly wicked.’

  Griff dropped the comic pose with a rueful grimace. ‘Actually, you’ll find I’m terribly conventional.’

  She looked at him with puzzled eyes. What did he mean by that?

  He didn’t seem about to enlighten her, instead launching into a hilarious tale of the time he had found himself stranded on an uninhabited island with his own Man Friday, he and a photographer stuck on the island when rough weather had blown up and made it impossible for the boat to set out to pick them up. His description of how they had finally managed to catch some fish to cook for supper proved to be one of the funniest things Sarah had ever heard.

  She wasn’t naïve, knew Griff was probably exaggerating slightly in an effort to take her mind off the Forbes family and the missing bracelet, but to a certain degree he succeeded. How could she help but laugh and enjoy his company when he set out to be so deliberately charming?

  There were quite a few people on the beach already when they arrived, the locals at Juan-les-Pins seeming to know that if you didn’t get there early enough you couldn’t get on one of the colourful mattresses laid out so neatly on the white-gold sand.

  Sarah was sure that, if people were asked to pay to lie on a mattress on a beach in England, the only way you could get on to the majority of the beaches here at all, they would be outraged. But in the south of France it was accepted that it was the normal thing to do. And the warm, clear blue-green sea in this area looked much more inviting than any sea Sarah had seen back at home.

  So she and Griff paid over their money and were shown to two mattresses at the front of the three rows, the attendant handing them their towels before putting up the umbrella that would shield them from getting too burnt in the extreme heat of midday.

  Sarah was a little shy about stripping off in front of Griff, which was a little ridiculous after the little he had seen her in the night before!

  But once in her bikini she was a little overdressed if anything, a number of women on the beach already topless.

  ‘Relax,’ Griff told her sleepily as she fidgeted about on the mattress that lay alongside his own, trying to get comfortable, very conscious of the lean length of his body as his tanned skin glistened in the sun from the lotion he had applied liberally seconds earlier.

  She was trying to relax, but it was a little difficult when she was so aware of him lying beside her, his masculinity a tangible thing.

  ‘I think I’ll go for a swim,’ she announced abruptly, jumping to her feet.

  ‘Sarah.’ The very softness of his voice stopped her flight across the sand to the water.

  She turned to look at him, swallowing convulsively, knowing she was behaving foolishly. But that burning ache she had known for him the night before was back, and he wasn’t even touching her!

  His mouth twisted. ‘I’ll only throw myself on top of you on a public beach on Saturday,’ he drawled. ‘And today is Friday!’

  She ran into the water, going straight under its warmth in an effort to cool her burning cheeks.

  ‘And today is Friday!’—what must he think of her?

  The desire she felt for him must have been obvious in her eyes as she’d looked down at him. Hungrily?

  Heatedly? Desperately? Oh, God, how could she hide the fact that she wanted him so much?

  She watched him from time to time as she swam about languidly in the calm water, her hair slicked back from her face and loose down her back; she hadn’t even taken the time to fasten her hair into a plait as she usually did before swimming, in too much of a hurry to get away from Griff and the power his masculinity exerted over her.

  Griff lay back on his lounger, eyes closed, showing no interest in the near-naked females around him, although Sarah saw that several of these women deliberately made a point of walking past him, when they had no reason for doing so other than to attract his attention.

  None of them succeeded.

  Several times he sat up on the mattress, but it was only to seek Sarah out in the water to assure himself of her well-being, giving her an acknowledging wave before settling back again.

  Well, at least his behaviour didn’t point to his being a womaniser.

  Then how was she to explain his undoubted interest in her?

  ‘Lunch.’

  She looked up from where she was treading water to find Griff standing only feet away at the water’s edge, her breath catching in her
throat at the tanned magnificence of him.

  ‘Time for lunch,’ he repeated patiently when she made no effort to move out of the water.

  She couldn’t explain away the attraction between them, could only try to control it, given their living-arrangements.

  But it wasn’t going to be easy!

  * * *

  ‘If you don’t relax soon you’re going to snap in half,’ Griff advised drily.

  Sarah instantly stopped crumbling the bread roll on her plate, realising as she did so that she had more or less demolished it without actually having made any effort to eat any of it!

  But her tension had only increased as the day had progressed, and, now that they were out to dinner, going to bed seemed to be looming up fast. And she was uncertain about what was going to happen then.

  She knew what she wanted to happen, but it was still the wrong time, the wrong place—in fact, everything about her and Griff’s being together now was wrong, not least of all because it would appear they were both on the rebound. At least Griff was, Sarah in no doubt now that what she had felt for Simon was so shallow, was nothing compared with the overwhelming love she had for Griff. The one certainty she had of that was because she knew if Griff wanted her, even only as a means of helping to ease some of his pain over Sandra Preston’s rejection, then she would go to him and offer him that comfort. It was something she had never wanted with Simon, no matter how much he had pressed her to.

  But they had both—deliberately so, it seemed to Sarah—not mentioned either Simon or Sandra all day. And now, as they dined together in the comfortable restaurant a short way down the valley from the villa, run by a husband and wife, the husband cooking while the wife helped with the selection of their meal, an awkward silence seemed to have fallen over the two of them.

  Hence Sarah’s tension had increased.

  ‘Sarah,’ Griff’s hand closed over her own as it rested on the table-top, ‘you’re a guest in my sister’s home—’

  ‘She doesn’t know that,’ Sarah scorned tautly.

  ‘But I do,’ he said firmly. ‘And until such time as we manage to untangle all the mess we seem to be caught up in—no, I don’t just mean this ridiculous business with the Forbes family,’ he clarified as tears welled up in her eyes for the second time today. ‘We have a lot of talking to do, a lot of explaining necessary, on both sides,’ he added softly. ‘And none of that is going to be done overnight. Luckily enough, time seems to be something we have plenty of at the moment. Believe me,’ he gave a self-derisive smile, ‘that’s a luxury for me!’