Superstar (40 page)

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Authors: T C Southwell

Tags: #romance, #movies, #actresses, #playboy, #actor, #silver screen, #films, #superstar, #playwright, #megastar, #supermodels

BOOK: Superstar
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"You don't
look so bad yourself, Mr Lord."

"One day
you're going to explain that to me."

She laughed.
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I would say, on the strength
of several million female fans, that you're the one who's
blind."

"It's a pity
my mother didn't think so when she dumped me on the orphanage
steps."

Carrin stared
at him. Far from having a bloated ego, Mark actually suffered from
an inferiority complex, she realised. It was a legacy of believing
himself unwanted all his life. He rose, looking a little
embarrassed, and walked away a few steps to face her from the
middle of the room.

"I've always
dreamt that one day she'd come looking for me. You know, rock up on
my doorstep and say, 'Hey, I'm your mother!'." He smiled and shook
his head. "Pretty dumb, huh? She didn't want me then, and she never
will. I guess she also doesn't need any of the things I could give
her." He turned away with a sigh.

Carrin's heart
ached, and she wondered why Olivia had not told him the truth about
his mother. Well, that was something that she could rectify.

"Your mother
didn't abandon you, Mark. She died giving birth to you."

He swung to
stare at her. "How do you know that?"

"Olivia told
me. She tried to find your parents for you."

He returned to
sit beside her. "What else do you know?"

"Only that she
was very young."

"Who abandoned
me?"

Carrin
hesitated. "Your grandparents. They're dead now."

"And my
father?"

"No one knows
who he was."

Mark frowned
at the floor, deep in thought. She watched him, hoping that telling
him the truth was the right thing to do. He had a right to know,
after all. Perhaps it would make him feel better about himself.

She added, "So
you see, she didn't hate the sight of you. She never saw you."

Mark rubbed
his face. "I should have tried to find out for myself. I had this
stupid, stubborn idea that she was the one who should look for me,
since she abandoned me."

"How would she
have known? Your name isn't the same, is it?"

"Actually it
is. It's the only thing that came with me. I had a label tied
around my neck. Mark Sebastian Quinton Lord is my original
name."

Carrin put her
arms around him. "I'm sure that if she had lived, she would have
loved you, and been proud of you."

"That was one
of the reasons I wanted to be famous, to prove to her that I was
worth something, and not a piece of garbage to be dumped on the
steps of an orphanage."

She stroked
his hair. "Your grandparents probably couldn't afford to raise a
baby, and they were grieving for their daughter too. She was their
only child. They gave you a name."

He nodded,
staring at the floor a little longer, then turned to smile at her.
"Thanks for telling me."

"It makes you
feel better?"

"Yeah. I wish
I'd found out myself, now." He glanced at his watch. "We're going
to be late."

Jumping up, he
pulled her to her feet. She glimpsed the sadness in his eyes, and
knew that he had not brushed the matter aside. He would have to
deal with it in his own way, there was no more that she could do or
say. After a lifetime of hoping that one day his mother would seek
him out, he would have to get used to the idea that she never
would. At the same time, at least now he knew that he had not been
unwanted. That cruel twist of fate had instilled in him a great
passion to succeed, and had made him who he was. Now he had nothing
to prove to anyone but himself.

Carrin walked
beside him to the waiting car, and all the way to the venue she
marvelled at how stunning he looked in his black tuxedo. The press
was out in force to snap pictures of the celebrities attending the
premier. A cheer went up when Mark stepped from the car, since he
was not only a star, but also the leading man. He smiled and waved
as he guided her through the barrage of flashing lights,
sidestepping reporters in his path. He stopped briefly to answer
some questions, then they went inside.

An usher
showed Mark and Carrin to a balcony where Warren, Harold and all
the important people from the film sat with their wives or dates.
Janice had brought Simon, and Mark sat next to him with Carrin on
the other side. He held her hand as the lights dimmed. Dramatic
music reverberated around the theatre, and the titles appeared
against a black backdrop. First was the studio's trademark, then a
couple of distributors, followed by Mark's name, and the title in
crimson splashes, like blood. After that came Janice's name, then
the directors and producers, one of whom was Mark. Carrin grinned
as her name appeared in large letters as 'written by' and again as
'screenplay by'. She looked at Mark, who chuckled.

"You got more
titles than me."

"No, you got
two as well."

He smiled. "I
guess so. But being a producer only means that you spent a lot of
money on it."

The first
scene started, and they settled back. The close resemblance of the
film to what Carrin had imagined amazed her. Except for a few
angles and backdrops, it was perfect. After his reluctant agreement
to do the job, Jason Talbot's relentless pursuit of his quarry was
unsuccessful. He fought the Mafia men who were sent to protect
Sheena Marshall, and his knack for appearing at the wrong moment
foiled her attempts to accomplish her mission.

Finally, he
chased her into the desert, where they came to blows. Although he
won the fight, he could not bring himself to kill her. Instead, he
tied her up and returned to the city, hoping to claim his money and
use it to hide her. His plan went awry, and he was forced to
protect his former target. They fell in love, and Carrin's heart
sank as scene twenty-eight started. She watched it for a minute,
then closed her eyes, unable to stomach the sight of Mark in
Janice's arms.

A touch on her
chin startled her, and she opened her eyes to find Mark leaning
towards her. He pulled her closer and kissed her for the duration
of the scene, which must have lasted a good five minutes. When he
released her, the next scene had started, and she was flushed and
breathless.

"Did that
help?" he murmured.

She nodded. "I
think you'll have to do that every time I have to sit through one
of your sex scenes."

He chuckled.
"I'll have to start making blue movies then."

Carrin
giggled, and he sat back. Jason Talbot tried to persuade the Mafia
don to let Sheena live, but he refused, and Jason killed the don
himself. The final scene ended with the last ringing gunshot,
followed by a close-up of Jason's sorrowful face as he watched his
beloved father figure die, then the credits rolled. The lights came
on, and thunderous applause arose from the audience. The people on
the balcony had to take a bow as the audience gave them a standing
ovation.

Mark muttered,
"Told you so."

Carrin
grinned, too happy for words. If this reaction was anything to go
by, the movie would be a success. They went to a hall where snacks
and drinks were served, and Carrin's family joined them, gazing
around in awe at the throng of celebrities. They had watched the
film from the lower galleries, since all the seats on Mark's
balcony were reserved for cast members, producers and directors.
Many people, mostly his peers, came over to congratulate Mark and
Carrin. She shook hands with people whom she had never dreamt to
meet, and their complimentary remarks delighted her. She would have
liked to stay longer, but after a few hours, Mark led her to the
door.

"We've got a
big day tomorrow, or have you forgotten?"

They ran the
gauntlet flashing cameras to the car and sank into its plush
interior as the door shut out the lights and shouted questions. At
the house, Mark offered her a nightcap, and they wandered outside
to enjoy the cool night air. Mark leant on the balustrade and gazed
up at the stars.

"Well,
tomorrow's the big day."

She nodded.
"Unless one of us chickens out."

Mark looked at
her sharply. "Planning to?"

"No, but you
might be."

He smiled.
"Never. I'll be waiting at the altar, but you'd better come
waltzing down that aisle, or... "

"Or what?"

"I'll hunt you
down and drag you to it, kicking and screaming."

She giggled.
"I've given you such a hard time, I thought by now you'd have had
enough."

"Is that why
you did it?"

"No, you know
why."

Mark nodded,
swirling the liquid in his glass and listening to the music of the
ice. "Tomorrow night you'll have no more doubts, I promise."

"You don't
have to prove anything to me."

"You believe
me?" He sounded incredulous, and shame flooded her. Either he was
the most consummate conman in the world, or she had been
mistreating a wonderful person. She had already decided on the
latter, and hated all the suspicions and doubts that she had
harboured.

"Yes."

Mark swept her
up in his arms and spun around. Carrin clung to him laughing, and
his husky mirth made her heart swell with joy. He looked down at
her with a broad grin, revealing perfect white teeth. He looked
fifteen years younger without the serious look that he usually
wore, and it was indeed a schoolboy grin, which banished his
brooding, dangerous look. No one looked less like a villain than
Mark Lord at that moment. He swung her around again and put her
down, then pulled her close and kissed her.

"You've just
made me the happiest man on Earth."

Carrin studied
his smiling countenance, fascinated by how young and boyish he
looked now. She ran her fingers down his cheek, tracing the
sculptured bones and sensitive mouth. Meeting his eyes, she looked
deep into their dark depths.

"I love
you."

He nodded and
kissed her brow. "I know."

"Was I that
transparent?"

"You're a
lousy actress, and an even worse liar. I've known since you held my
hand in the ambulance."

"You were
unconscious."

"Not quite. It
was like a dream, which I only remembered when I woke up, and there
you were at my bedside."

She smiled.
"Well, I had you fooled for quite a while, then."

"Yeah? How
long?"

"Since before
I even met you."

He laughed.
"How the hell did you manage that?"

"I saw
you."

He held her
close, stroking her hair. "The first time I saw you, I felt like a
mule had kicked me between the eyes."

"That must
have hurt."

"Somewhat."

"Couldn't have
been pleasant."

"Not
very."

She giggled.
"You certainly didn't show it."

"I'm an actor,
remember? But it was hard to hide the way my knees were knocking
together."

"You're
exaggerating."

"Just a
little. I can't even remember all the rubbish I babbled. Something
about pools, wasn't it?" His smile faded. "I've never been so
terrified in all my life, apart from when you stole the Lotus."

"Of me?"

"I found
myself spouting rubbish, and would have kicked myself if I could
have. Then you snapped at me about the pool being warm and I knew
I'd met my match. From then on, I felt like a teenager trying to
impress his first date, and failing miserably."

Carrin
pulled a face. "But you had Jenna."

"I had already
invited her, but I was so jealous of Simon I wanted to deck him
when he smiled at you. I was so afraid that you'd prefer him. After
all, he's far more handsome."

"Ugh, yes, if
you like the blond Adonis type."

"Which I'm
very glad you didn't." He chuckled. "Poor Simon."

"So that was
why you were so upset when I wouldn't go out with you."

"Upset?" He
snorted. "I was devastated. You kept looking at me like I was the
slime monster from some cheap horror movie, and I couldn't figure
out why. Unless, of course, you thought I was ugly, which I
dreaded."

"Who could
anyone ever think that you're ugly? When I saw you in the movies,
even playing a villain, I thought you were the most beautiful man
ever, and you are. That's why I drew you. That's why I wrote Deadly
Games for you." She paused. "I just wanted to meet you, and be near
you, as your friend. My dream was that we would fall in love and
get married, but I knew you were far out of my reach. So I just
wanted to stay friends, that way we would always be together. I
knew that if we became lovers you'd get tired of me -"

"Never," he
growled.

"But I didn't
know that then. When you took me out, I was afraid that you'd
seduce me, and my dream of being friends would die with an affair.
Relationships destroy friendships."

"Only if they
fail."

She nodded.
"But I couldn't believe you'd ever look at me as anything other
than a temporary distraction - a cheap fling. Superstars marry
other stars or supermodels, not someone like me. I wanted to keep
the friendship instead, that way I wouldn't lose you."

Mark
stroked her cheek, his eyes roaming over her face. "I understand.
Those matches are often made in Hollywood. Generally, people like
me follow the trend and do what's expected, then regret it. A
marriage based on mutual popularity and financial status is doomed
from the start. The public love it though. They think it's so
romantic when two stars marry, and sometimes it is. More often it's
not, and within a couple of years they can't stand each other
anymore." He smiled. "Well, I'm not that desperate for publicity,
so I'll marry the girl of my dreams, who conveniently invited
herself into my life by writing me a movie script."

Carrin hugged
him, and his arms enfolded her. A dream come true.

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