Merlyn's Magic (21 page)

'See how you feel once you've been soaking for a while,'
Merlyn advised with humour.

With her usual exuberance, Liza bounced back to full
mobility after her bath and, as Rand still hadn't called, Merlyn joined
the other woman for dinner in one of the hotel restaurants.

'Good evening, ladies.' James came to stand by their
table. 'Is everything satisfactory?'

Merlyn returned his smile. 'Well, the steak was a little
more delicious than I'm used to, but I think I could learn to live with
that. Why don't you join us?' she invited as the waiter brought their
coffee.

'Miss Benedict?' He looked questioningly at Liza before
making any move to sit down.

'Please,' she smiled. 'I never refuse the company of a
handsome man.'

'Unless they're married, of course,' Merlyn put in dryly
as the couple continued to smile at each other as James sat down.

Liza gave James a rueful smile. 'It's terrible when you
have your conscience sitting next to you!'

His eyes glowed darkly brown. 'But
we're
married. In a way,' he drawled.

'So we are.' Liza's expression brightened. 'In that
case—Don't look so worried, Merlyn,' she laughed her
enjoyment of the exchange. 'James and I are only having fun.'

Merlyn was well aware of that. 'But if I don't play the
Jiminy Cricket, who will?' she teased.

'I will,' Anne announced lightly. 'You're wanted on the
telephone, Merlyn,' she told her softly once she had her attention.
'Over by the desk,' Anne explained. 'It's Brandon.'

She breathlessly thanked the other woman before hurrying
over to take the call, hardly aware of excusing herself before she did
so. She hadn't consciously allowed herself to think of Rand all
evening, and yet she knew that at the back of her mind she was thinking
of nothing else, just waiting to hear from him.

'Merlyn?'

His voice sounded different on the telephone, more
brusque, not at all like the man who had whispered eroticisms in her
ear this morning as they made love. 'Yes,' she confirmed huskily.
'Rand?'

'I'm still in London,' he announced flatly.

She bit back her gasp of disappointment. 'When do you
expect to be back?' She deliberately made her voice light, casually
enquiring, vividly remembering what Christopher had said earlier about
'no challenge in the conquest making it not worth bothering about'.

'I'm not sure,' Rand answered abruptly. 'Some time
tomorrow, perhaps.'

'I'll miss you.' The admission was an involuntary one, and
she bit her lip painfully after she had made it.

'Will you?' He sounded sceptical.

'Yes,' she confirmed almost resentfully as she sensed that
scepticism.

'How did that scene go today that you weren't too happy
about?' His voice was brisk again.

'We didn't do it,' Merlyn sighed.

'Why not?' he demanded sharply.

'I—er—The conditions weren't right,'
she evaded. It was ridiculous to keep the nudity scene from him, she
knew, when he was sure to see the completed film. And yet she didn't
want him to know about it just yet.

'I see,' Rand said slowly. 'I'll possibly see you
tomorrow, then.'

'Yes. But—Rand!' she cried before he could ring
off, giving a self-conscious smile at the maitre d' as he stood a short
distance away, having turned to look at her curiously as she raised her
voice. 'I will miss you,' she repeated inadequately to Rand, her voice
softer now, the maitre d's attention returning back to the diners.

'I told you I'll see you tomorrow,' he said tersely. 'I
don't want to keep you from your meal any longer.'

'Oh, I've finished my meal, we were just sitting around
talking.'

'Really?' he said disinterestedly. 'Then I won't keep you
from that.'

'We were only gossiping— Rand, what's wrong?'
She frowned her confusion with his coldness towards her. Had he tired
of her already and this was his way of ending things?

'Wrong?' he echoed icily. 'What could possibly be wrong?
I've been delayed in London on business,' he told her, his voice edged
with impatience. 'One of those dislikes of mine that we didn't get
around to discussing last night is that I can't stand possessively
jealous women!'

Merlyn felt the colour drain from her face. Jealous? Did
she have anything—
anyone
—to be
jealous of? God, he was right, she
was
jealous!
Since Mark she hadn't allowed herself to care for any man, least of all
to become possessive about one, and it was that Summers pride and
emotional independence that helped her now through this awkwardness
with Rand.

'I think you're talking about the wrong woman, Rand,' she
said with cool dismissal. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I
do
think my coffee is getting cold.'

'
Only
the coffee?' he scorned.

Merlyn frowned. 'I'm not even going to pretend to
understand you, Rand,' she sighed. 'I have a feeling you were right
last night, you
don't
understand yourself either.
You certainly don't seem to know what you want, especially from me. I
have to go,' she said impatiently. 'I have another early call tomorrow.'

She took a few minutes to compose herself before rejoining
the others at the table, finding James had gone now, Anne and Liza
chatting companionably together.

'Sorted out yet which one of you belongs to James?'
prompted Merlyn lightly as she sat down.

'I do—by default,' Anne drawled, her eyes
glowing with humour. 'Liza dropped out when she heard that James likes
to eat biscuits in bed.'

'I can't stand crumbs on the sheets,' Liza acknowledged
wryly.

'I take it poor James left in disgust?' Merlyn quirked her
brows.

'Come to think of it he did leave soon after that,' Anne
nodded. 'How's Brandon?' Merlyn sobered.

'Busy in London,' she supplied abruptly, not quite able to
meet the other woman's gaze.

His sister-in-law nodded. 'It's good to see him so
interested in his work again.' She stood up. 'Ah well, back to the
grindstone,' she said without rancour, obviously enjoying her thriving
hotel.

'It may be good for Brandon,' Liza said slowly, watching
Merlyn intently once they were alone again. 'But is it good for you?'

Merlyn looked at her with feigned surprise. 'What does it
have to do with me?'

'You look as if you've lost five pounds and found a
penny!' her friend observed.

Merlyn sighed. 'I don't understand Rand, and I'm not even
going to pretend to. My only consolation is that he doesn't understand
himself either! Come on.' She stood up decisively. 'Let's get out of
here,' and she strode from the room without waiting to see if Liza was
following her.

'Slow down,' Liza puffed from behind. 'My back has
stiffened up again.'

Merlyn relented, matching her strides to Liza's painfully
slow ones. She felt charged with energy, needed to be doing something,
and at almost eleven o'clock at night there wasn't too much to do.

'I know, let's go dancing!' Merlyn suddenly realised the
discotheque would still be going.

'In my condition?' Liza groaned, hobbling along at best.

'Hm.' Her friend's enthusiasm wavered. 'I just don't feel
like going to bed yet.'

'Then how about a quiet game of cards in one of the
lounges?' Liza suggested hopefully. 'It's about all I'm fit for
tonight.'

'I'm being selfish,' Merlyn realised heavily. 'And stupid. We both have to be up early tomorrow.'

'Don't remind me!' Liza grimaced.

Merlyn gave a tender smile. 'The best thing for you is a
good night's sleep.'

'I'm not even sure that will do any good; they'll probably
have to tie me on to the horse's back.'

While she didn't exactly look equestrian class Liza did
very well the next day, Christopher declaring himself satisfied with
what he had after only the third take.

Merlyn was pleased for Liza, but it meant they were now
ready to film the scene she had so been dreading. The mere mention of
the word gazebo had become a nightmare in her mind, and once she left
here she never wanted to see one again.

The planking seemed as good as new when she tried her
footing on it, and the first part of the scene went perfectly the first
time. It was only as Mark took her in his arms that she froze up,
conscious of exactly who he was.

'For God's sake,' Christopher burst out impatiently.
'Merlyn, this is the man you love. Mark,' he added hardly, 'you aren't
about to throw her to the floor and rape her. This is the woman you
love and you need to be as close to her as you possibly can.'

Merlyn thought Christopher's first description of Mark's
acting more apt as they went through the scene time and time again.
Mark just didn't have it in him to even
act
gentle with her.

'Like this!' Christopher finally lost his temper
completely, taking over Mark's part, standing so close to Merlyn that
their bodies almost touched, but not quite, his big gentle hands
cupping either side of her face as his eyes gazed into hers with a love
that revered and adored. 'I love you, Suzie. God, how I love
you…' He groaned the words Mark should have said in the role
of Brandon before his mouth lowered to hers.

Merlyn's arms slowly crept about his neck as she became
lost to that kiss, knowing they were both acting parts even though it
felt so
real
.

Christopher raised his head at the sound of the
spontaneous applause from the technicians he had deemed necessary for
the scene, turning to scowl at all of them until they were silent
again, his baleful glare settling on Mark. '
That's
how you make love to a woman,' he told him scathingly as he put Merlyn
briskly away from him.

Mark shrugged, strolling forward to take over from
Christopher. 'Maybe you've had more practice at it with Merlyn than I
have,' he said carelessly.

Blue eyes narrowed, the air suddenly still, even the wind
that had been whipping about them all afternoon ceasing for those few
seconds. 'What's that supposed to mean?' The very quietness of
Christopher's voice was menacing.

'I meant more
recent
practice, of
course.' Mark wasn't in the least daunted by the other man's anger.

'Explain,' Christopher demanded.

'Can't we just get on with the scene?' Merlyn put in
awkwardly, the stunned surprise she had felt at Christopher's intensity
of passion quickly replaced by apprehension at Mark's challenging
attitude. 'We—'

'Explain,' Christopher barked at Mark a second time, his
eyes as cold as ice.

Mark shrugged again. 'I told you the other day that Merlyn
and I were becoming
reacquainted
.'

'Yes, but—Merlyn, in your dressing-room,'
Christopher snapped, suddenly becoming aware that they still had an
avid audience. 'Now,' he ordered through gritted teeth.

Her 'dressing-room' was one of several caravans they had
parked where they were convenient to their location, but not too
intrusive on the other guests.

Merlyn turned fatalistically to face Christopher as he
closed the door forcefully behind him.

'When I asked you about Hillier—'

'I told you we didn't like each other but we could live
with it,' she cut in tautly.

His eyes flashed. 'What's going on out there is "living
with it"?'

Her face became flushed. 'Don't blame me for that,
Christopher, I'm doing my part—'

'You act as if he's about to abuse you, not make love to
you!'

'Maybe because that's the way he makes me feel—'
She broke off abruptly, breathing heavily as she realised what she had
said, a speculative gleam in Christopher's eyes now. 'Mark Hillier just
doesn't appeal to me—even when he is pretending to be someone
else. Now can we just leave it at that?' It was a futile hope at best;
Christopher never 'just left' anything!

'He is that man from your past,' he realised impatiently.
'And you told me he tried to use you to—'

'Christopher, please!' said Merlyn tensely, her hands
twisting together in front of her.

He gave an angry sigh, moving about in the small confines
with his customary restlessness. 'Great! This is just
great
,'
he ground out forcefully. 'I wish to God I'd known that before I took
him on.'

'So do I,' Merlyn's reply was weary. 'But it's done now,'
she added shakily.

'Do you want me to try and break his contract—'

'God, no!' she refused with a gasp. Mark would
never
forgive her if he lost another starring role because of her.

'Okay, but if he lays one finger on you—'

'He already has, Christopher, you saw him do it,' Merlyn
sighed. 'I think today is probably a repercussion of that.'

He gave a groan. 'As if I don't already have enough
problems on this film with the author of the book constantly breathing
down my neck, and you having an affair with Suzie Forrester's
husband—'

'I thought you said that was helping you,' she reminded
him tightly.

'It's a double-edged sword,' Christopher scowled. 'If you
don't
keep
him happy it could just make him all
the more difficult to deal with afterwards. Oh, what the hell.' He
threw up his hands in disgust. 'I'll send Irene in to retouch your
make-up while we all take a break. But in ten minutes I want you back
out there and acting like Mark Hillier is the man you love and don't
ever want to leave!' he warned.

She didn't need to ask him to make that clear to Mark too,
could tell by the light of battle in his eyes as he left her that he
intended making his feelings even more clearly known to the man, that
he was as angry about the actor's open defiance earlier as he was about
the taut situation between Mark and Merlyn. She could almost pity Mark
during the next few minutes. Almost…

Whatever Christopher had said to him—and by the
very fact that Christopher had never been all that particular about
making his displeasure known in public she knew someone was bound to
relate the chastisement word for word to her some time before the end
of the day—Mark, as Brandon Carmichael, couldn't have been
more in love with her.