Superstar (24 page)

Mark shook his
head. "That's not good."

"Why? He
doesn't know who I am. He'll blame the magazine, and they'll tell
him to go suck eggs."

"That would be
the case, if not for this."

Mark picked up
a newspaper and handed it to her, open. Carrin's eyes widened as
she read the article with growing horror. There were four
photographs, each with a caption beneath it. The first one was of
her arriving at Simon's, and underneath it read, 'Miss Carrin York
visits Simon Grey again.' The next picture was of her leaving in
her disguise, with a brief explanation beneath. 'Miss York leaves
in disguise, with Simon Grey.' The third photograph showed Simon
carrying her into his house, her wig and glasses gone. 'The couple
return, Miss York a little the worse for wear, it seems,' the
caption read. Carrin shuddered. The final photo was of Mark
carrying her to his car. 'Mark Lord rescues his screenwriter.'

Beneath the
photos, a headline asked, 'Mark Lord to the rescue?' She read on.
'Things were going bump in the night at Simon Grey's house last
night. His latest lady, Miss Carrin York, appeared to be in
disguise when they left his Beverly Hills mansion for an unknown
destination. They returned two hours later, and Miss York was quite
obviously under the weather, lacking her wig and glasses. Our
photographers waited for the drama to unfold, and shortly after
that, Mark Lord, who had arrived just before Simon Grey and his
partner returned, emerged from the mansion with the apparently
unconscious screenwriter in his arms. We can only suppose that he
came to rescue her from the clutches of notorious playboy, whose
string of conquests is filled with all the best names in Hollywood.
Is there romance in the air for Mark Lord, reclusive superstar? Or
is he just making sure his screenwriter gets to work today?'

Carrin threw
the paper down, unable to read any more. "My god, they're
everywhere."

"After the
last photos of you and Simon, you should have been more careful.
Once the press sniff out a story, they generally hang around for
the next instalment."

"Will it do
any harm to the film... or you?"

He shook his
head. "It's not really bad press, just harmless scandal. The
problem is, when Birdie sees it, he'll know who you are."

"Oh, no,"
Carrin groaned. "Maybe he won't see it. He doesn't strike me as the
sort to read newspapers."

"Someone will
show it to him, especially when the cheque is rejected and he tries
to find out who you are."

"What are we
going to do?"

Rita brought
the coffee, and Mark poured it. "For now, nothing. When Birdie
finds you, we'll sort him out."

"How?"

"I have some
ideas, don't worry."

Carrin stared
into her cup. "I've really made a mess of things, haven't I?"

"It was a good
plan, only the paparazzi spoilt it. Otherwise, it would have
worked."

She sipped her
coffee. "I hope Janice doesn't go back to Birdie's."

"She won't. I
told her that she was losing her part because of those photos, and
she was rather upset. Now I'll tell her that if it happens again
she's out. She won't jeopardise her career."

"That's what
you had the fight about, in the dressing room."

He nodded.
"Yeah. I was furious with her for causing so much trouble."

"I bet she'll
be glad to hear that we've saved her."

Mark shrugged,
looking preoccupied. "I suppose I should go around to Simon's and
see how he is. He's probably feeling very sorry for himself this
morning. Want to come?"

"Sure. I bet
he's got a lovely shiner."

"He'd better
hide it from the press, or they'll think up an even better story to
explain it," Mark said.

Mark called
for his limousine to be brought around, and a grinning John held
open the door. Mark scowled at him.

"You've been
reading the papers, haven't you?"

"Yes, Mr
Lord." John's grin broadened.

"Well wipe
that silly grin off your face. One day they'll catch you with your
pants down."

John seemed
unperturbed, and was grinning when he climbed into the driver's
seat. "How are you feeling, Miss York?"

Mark pressed
the button that sealed John and his chuckles off from them. The
journey was a short one, and John was still smiling when he opened
the door for them at Simon's house.

As he climbed
out, Mark muttered, "I really must get a more respectful
chauffeur." John chuckled afresh.

The
poker-faced maid showed them through the house. "Mr Grey is in the
pool."

"Good," Mark
commented, "maybe today I'll drown him."

The girl shot
him an amused glance as they emerged onto the patio and she
announced them. With a splash, Simon's head appeared over the rim
of the pool. A large blue bruise closed one eye, and a moment
later, Janice joined him. Mark groaned.

Simon hauled
himself out, looking sheepish. "Hi Mark."

"My god, you
sound like Carrin did last night."

Janice
made a far more dignified exit from the pool via the steps, clad in
an almost non-existent tanga. She glared at Mark and slipped her
arm possessively through Simon's, who looked
embarrassed.

Mark shook his
head. "The press are going to have a field day with this."

Carrin looked
at him. "You think they're still there?"

"Of course
they are."

Simon wiped
his face with a towel. "What are you two on about?"

Mark slammed
the newspaper down on the patio table. "That."

Simon picked
it up and read it, looking unhappy. Janice peered over his
shoulder, her expression becoming smug.

"So, Miss
York, you're getting a reputation." She smirked.

Carrin
restrained herself with an effort, sitting down. "Nothing like
yours, Miss Sharner."

Janice
shrugged. "I'm a star, of course I have a reputation."

"You almost
became a big fat nothing, Janice," Mark pointed out.

Janice sat
down. "Simon saved me." She sent him an adoring look, and Simon had
the grace to squirm.

"Did he now?"
Mark raised a brow at Simon.

"Yes, well,
Birdie won't be selling those photos to the press now, will he? I
burnt them this morning, Janice helped."

Simon's
duplicity nettled and amused Carrin, and she frowned at him.

Mark shook his
head at Janice. "He didn't do it alone."

"Well, of
course I'm grateful to Miss York, too."

"Now we just
have to figure out what to do when Birdie comes looking for you
two."

Simon stopped
towelling his hair and stared at his friend. "What do you
mean?"

"Well, when
that cheque bounces, he'll know who the lady reporter was who duped
him, and he'll know that you were in on it."

Simon stared
at the newspaper as realisation dawned. "Oh no."

"Oh, yes."
Mark smiled.

Simon sat
down. "What are we going to do?"

Mark shrugged,
accepting a drink from the tray that the maid offered. "I could
drown you. That would solve the problem."

Simon glanced
at Carrin. "Carrin was the one who made the deal. It was her
idea."

"Birdie will
think Carrin was just a pawn. He'll think you arranged it."

Simon looked
reproachful. "You can't let me take all the blame. I did it to help
you."

"Oh?" Mark's
brows rose. "I thought you did it for Janice."

Simon realised
his mistake and shot a guilty glance at the actress, who looked
miffed. "For both of you."

"Ah." Mark
nodded, and Carrin smiled at the clever way he outwitted Simon,
showing up his lies without actually refuting them. "Well, we'll
just have to deal with it, won't we?"

Simon
nodded, still looking uncertain. Janice, although clearly a little
disenchanted with her new lover, clung to him like a limpet. They
had lunch together, and Janice flirted and fed Simon, who seemed to
enjoy the attention. If she expected jealousy from Mark, she was
sadly disappointed. The superstar was singularly disinterested in
her little games. After lunch, Mark took Carrin back to her hotel,
reminding her to be at work the following day.

The
following morning, Carrin found out why Mark was able to take the
day off. The studio work was finished, and they were preparing to
go on location. Trucks carted the equipment, and a flotilla of
caravans and motor homes followed. Warren and Harold were pleased
that Mark and Carrin were on speaking terms again. Janice was
subdued and more co-operative.

The first
scene that they shot was of a car chase on the highway. First Mark
was filmed in his car, towed behind a camera truck, then Janice.
Then the stunt men took over, and drove the cars in the distant
shots of the high-speed chase. The highway was closed for the
filming, and professionals drove the other cars in the scene.
Because of the pressure to reopen the highway, the work was
completed quickly, and they moved into a desert location for the
first confrontation between Jason Talbot and his adversary.

Carrin shared
a caravan with some stuntwomen and make up girls, Mark and Janice
had their own trailers. Carrin found it exciting to work out in the
open, different from the studio work. Weather dictated the
shooting, however, and they spent two cloudy days waiting for the
sun to reappear. Her concern about Birdie's revenge sat in the back
of her mind like a dark cloud, which she tried to ignore. Mark was
relaxed, and assured her that Birdie would go after Simon to try to
cheer her up. He obviously did not think that Birdie would do
anything dire, for he did not seem worried about his friend.

The cool
desert nights were magical. The stars blazed like a sprinkle of
diamonds, and the moon hung amongst them like a glowing pearl.
Often she went for a walk after supper, to soak up the arid peace
of the sand and stone, and the cold beauty of the sky. One night
she was surprised to find Mark sitting in the lee of a dune, and
turned to go, not wishing to disturb him.

"Carrin." He
did not look around. "Come here." She walked over and stood beside
him, and he patted the sand. "Sit."

Pulling her
jacket closer to ward off the chill, she sank down on the sand.
Mark turned to her, the moonlight silvering his features. Although
their friendship was firmly established and comfortable, she was
still nervous to be alone with him. Her conversation with Olivia
had made her doubt her impression of him as a cruel man, for she
had only seen his gentleness and generosity. Only the certain
knowledge that a superstar like Mark Lord would never consider
anything other than a casual fling with somebody like her bolstered
her resolve not to become another casualty of his allure.

After a
long pause, he said, "You know, you looked very lovely that night,
when Simon carried you into his house." She stared at him, and he
looked away. "I mean, you look lovely anyway, but with that make up
on, you looked incredible. You know who you reminded me
of?"

"Patricia
Merril?"

"How did you
know?"

She
smiled. "Simon hired a make-up girl and told her to make me look
like a film star."

He nodded.
"But then, it didn't really take much. You could be a model or
actress if you wanted."

"You said I
was a lousy actress."

He snorted.
"Not as bad as some."

"The next
morning I looked like a racoon."

Mark's smile
broadened, and he struggled to control it, then looked down as he
lost the battle and laughed. His husky laughter delighted her, and
she wished that she could see the boyish grin that went with it.
When he raised his head, he was in control again.

"I wish I'd
seen that."

"I'm glad you
didn't."

Another
silence fell as he contemplated the desert, then he turned to her.
"If I asked you out, would you still turn me down?"

Carrin caught
her breath, and hesitated. "As a friend, I would, but if you're
looking for a bed partner, no."

His eyes
flitted over her face. "I see. Have you taken a vow of chastity or
something?"

"Or
something."

"You don't
want to become a notch on my bedpost."

Carrin
recalled the argument they had before and sighed. "That's it."

"You're not a
virgin, are you?" He sounded perplexed.

She smiled.
"No."

"So if you
were prepared to give others a chance, why not me?"

"I always
thought it would go somewhere, but they always fizzled out. I got
tired of kissing frogs in the hopes that they would turn into
princes. Now you want me to kiss a prince and watch him turn into a
frog."

"How do you
know I'll turn into a frog?"

"Frogs are
more common."

He gave a
snort. "Okay, forget the frogs. You've got a better reason than
that, I'm sure, but you're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No."

He gazed out
across the desert again. "What if I told you I'm not just looking
for a bed partner? What if I want more from you?"

Her heart
leapt and pounded, then sank as reality intruded. Actor! Bitterness
made her voice cold. "I'd say, what if pigs could fly?"

"You don't
believe me."

The hurt in
his voice amazed her, and she longed to believe him. Boy, he was
good! "No, I don't." She stated. "And I don't want to ruin our
friendship for a brief fling that will only end up making me hate
you. You remember you told me how your girlfriends usually take a
swing at you when you ditch them? Well, I'd probably lay you out
for a week."

He almost
smiled. "But those were shallow girls, and meaningless affairs. I
wouldn't ditch you."

"I bet you
told all of them that, with the same amount of earnest feeling in
your voice too. You're a very good actor, but I don't buy it."