Merlyn's Magic

He frowned. ‘I wonder—–'

Both of them were startled when the telephone began to ring, Rand striding across the room to answer it. Merlyn watched him beneath lowered lashes, still finding it incredible that she knew his body more intimately than she knew her own. Any magic that had taken place last night had to have been instigated by Rand!

‘Yes,’ he was speaking to the caller now. ‘Okay, we'll see you soon.’ He rang off, shrugging slightly as he met Merlyn's questioning gaze. ‘Anne,’ he provided abruptly. ‘She's driving over.'

Oh God, Merlyn thought shakily, how was she supposed to face Suzie's sister after what had happened in this very room the night before! Rand seemed to guess at her dismay.

‘About last night—–'

‘Do we have to talk about it?’ she cut in raggedly.

‘Not if you don't want to.’ He frowned in his effort to read her expression with the daylight reflected behind her. ‘But—–'

‘I don't,’ she snapped, her hands moving together nervously. If this was the way a woman felt the morning after going to bed with a man she was glad she had avoided such encounters; she had never felt so uncomfortably out of place in her life!

He ran a hand through his loosely curling black hair. ‘I'd been drinking—–'

She had known that, had tasted the brandy on his lips and tongue, colour flooding her cheeks as she vividly recalled their insistent probing. ‘If that's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't!’ Her eyes flashed deeply green.

‘I'm not trying to make you feel better—–'

‘That's good—because you weren't succeeding!’ She was so tense her usual control had gone. ‘You see, I hadn't been drinking!'

Rand sighed. ‘I'm out of practice with the niceties of these bedroom games, and I'm sorry if all of this is coming out the wrong way.’ He didn't notice how pale Merlyn had become as he moved to pour himself a cup of coffee from the pot Merlyn had made earlier. ‘Believe it or not, I was faithful to my wife for the eight years of our marriage—–'

‘Why shouldn't I believe it?’ she snapped. ‘You loved her.'

‘Yes, I did,’ he grated bleakly. ‘But it isn't fashionable in her world to be faithful to a spouse.'

What was he saying, that Suzie had been unfaithful to him? Merlyn had seen too many show business marriages fall apart because of the long separations and the loneliness their work often necessitated. But she wouldn't believe that of Suzie Forrester.

‘We were both faithful.’ Rand seemed to mock her indignation. ‘And since her death—–’ He made an impatient movement, as if it still hurt him to admit she was dead. ‘I'm just trying to explain to you why the age-old platitudes of “how good it was” and “you were wonderful” don't trip lightly off my tongue—–'

‘It wasn't that good,’ Merlyn cut in hardly, knowing that as far as she was concerned she lied; it had been beautiful. ‘And I wasn't that wonderful,’ she scorned self-derisively.

Rand's eyes had narrowed. ‘You weren't that bad either. Look, I'm not trying to give you a rating from one to ten, I just wanted to make you understand that I don't usually extract that sort of payment from unexpected guests, that last night was just—the circumstances were—–'

‘Unreal,’ Merlyn supplied softly. ‘They were completely unreal, as if they happened to two other people and not us at all.'

He blinked at her. ‘Yes,’ he confirmed in a puzzled voice. ‘That's exactly the way it seems. I don't remember the last time I—–’ He turned towards the front door as the bell rang, his expression grim. ‘That will be Anne.'

Merlyn swallowed hard, dreading her meeting with the other woman now, feeling as if she had betrayed Anne's trust in her. ‘Please don't let her realise about last night—–'

Rand glared at her. ‘Do you think I want that any more than you do?’ he snapped. ‘God knows we've had our disagreements in the past, but making love to one of her friends would not be acceptable to Anne at all.'

Merlyn released her breath raggedly as she waited for him to admit the other woman. She wasn't a friend of Anne Benton's, but she had wanted to be, and she knew that if Anne realised what had happened in this room the night before that she, too, would wonder at Merlyn's motives. She doubted anyone would believe her only ‘motive’ have been to be with the man she had wanted so desperately from the first. Mistaking this house for the hotel had been bad enough, but making love with Rand had ruined any chance she might have had of convincing him to let her appear in the film, especially as that chance had been slim to start with.

The woman who entered the lounge at Rand's side wasn't at all what Merlyn had been expecting. Anne was a short blonde woman of about thirty who, if one were being generous, could be called cuddly, and if one weren't, would be called plump. Suzie had been tall, ethereally slim, and dark-haired, and her sister came as something of a surprise.

Anne couldn't exactly be called beautiful either, with her even features, but as she smiled Merlyn realised she had something much more than mere surface beauty, that her warm blue eyes glowed with her inner serenity and gave her a charm that couldn't be bought or applied and would never fade.

‘Merlyn!’ she greeted warmly, crossing the room to hug her, unzipping the anorak she wore over a powder-blue jumper and denims as the heat in the room hit her. ‘You're just as beautiful as I thought you would be,’ she complimented without envy. ‘You really—–’ The glow left her eyes as she frowned up at Merlyn. ‘My God, what happened to your mouth?’ she gasped, moving Merlyn out of the light of the window. ‘You didn't mention anything yesterday about an accident—–'

‘I wasn't in an accident,’ Merlyn refuted reluctantly, knowing Anne had seen what Rand hadn't; the black and purple bruising about the cut she had made on her bottom lip.

‘But you look as if someone punched you in the— My God,’ she breathed dazedly, turning slowly to look at Rand. ‘You didn't!’ She shook her head disbelievingly. ‘Brandon, you can't blame Merlyn for any of this, it was my idea that she come up here. You didn't have to do this.’ She looked again with horror at the bruising to Merlyn's lip.

‘I didn't,’ he dismissed abruptly. ‘What was your idea? And if Merlyn is a friend of yours how is it that you didn't know how beautiful she is?’ His eyes were narrowed with cold suspicion.

Merlyn gave a negative shake of her head as Anne looked at her enquiringly, knowing the other woman had expected her to have told Rand who she was by now. Maybe she should have done, but he was already unfriendly enough without that, and she had had no idea how long she was going to be stranded with him in this way. Cold indifference she could live with, armed warfare was something else! She would have told him the truth before she left, Merlyn knew she owed him that. Although she probably wouldn't have told him in quite this way.

‘Because—–'

‘Because Anne and I have never met before,’ Merlyn cut in firmly, giving the other woman a reassuring look before meeting Rand's challenging gaze at her admission. ‘I'm an actress, and I—–'

‘Want to appear in that damned film they intend making about my wife,’ he finished thunderously. ‘I should have known,’ he scorned. ‘Arriving here in the storm with some tale about thinking this was Anne's hotel, when all the time—–'

‘That wasn't a tale,’ Merlyn defended herself heatedly. ‘Do you really imagine I wanted our first meeting to be made that way?'

‘Yes, I think that's exactly what you wanted.’ He looked at her in contempt. ‘I think you planned yesterday down to the last detail!'

All the colour drained from her face at his silent implication that she had intended that they should make love last night all along, that if the opportunity hadn't presented itself the way that it had then she would have made it happen. It was completely unjustified, but she had known who he was and she had made love with him, and that was all Rand could see at the moment.

‘Brandon, please.’ Anne shot Merlyn a concerned glance. ‘Merlyn only wanted—–'

His icy gaze silenced his sister-in-law. ‘I know you want this film made, Anne, but I'm sure even you don't realise the lengths your “friend” Merlyn went to to try and persuade me—–'

‘Anne, would you mind waiting for me outside?’ Merlyn cut in shakily before Rand could list those ‘lengths'. She was avoiding looking at him. ‘I just have a few things to say to your brother-in-law, and then I intend getting as far away from here as I can!'

‘But—–'

‘Perhaps that would be best.’ Rand's voice was harsh, his gaze fixed relentlessly on Merlyn. ‘Merlyn and I have a few things to say to each other that might shock your sensibilities,’ he added with a sneer.

Anne looked at them each in turn, finally settling on Merlyn. ‘I'll be waiting in the Range Rover,’ she said gently. ‘You'll have to leave your car here and collect it another time, I'm afraid; I only just managed to get through with the four-wheel drive.'

Merlyn had no intention of ever returning to this house, for any reason. It was a hire-car, she would pay the extra for the hire company to come and pick it up. She certainly couldn't see Rand Carmichael again, for any reason. ‘I won't be long,’ she assured the other woman.

‘An actress!’ Rand scorned as soon as they were alone. ‘You should be given an award for your performance last night and this morning.’ He paced the room, glaring at her. ‘A damned actress!’ he repeated disgustedly, his contempt obvious.

‘I'm not a “damned” anything,’ she snapped. ‘And actress isn't a dirty word!'

‘You're the latest of Christopher Drake's offerings, aren't you?’ he accused, ignoring her anger. ‘Did you go to bed with him, too, to get even this far?'

In the circumstances it was an accusation which could have been expected, but that didn't make it any more acceptable. She may have been stupid last night, even more impetuous than she had ever been before in her life, but one thing she was not was promiscuous!

‘What a stupid question,’ Rand derided himself. ‘Of course you've slept with him!'

‘You were the one who wanted me last night,’ she reminded him chokingly.

‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘I wanted you. Do you have any idea why?'

She frowned at the violence of his aggression. ‘You seemed upset—–'

‘Upset!’ he repeated with derisive mockery. ‘A man kneels before you sobbing like a baby and you think he was just upset!'

Merlyn moistened her lips. ‘You didn't seem to want to explain—–'

‘And you didn't want to ask!’ he scorned hardly. ‘You just walked naked into my arms!'

She drew in a ragged breath, knowing she deserved his accusations; she hadn't wanted to probe into why he had been crying, she had just wanted to be with him. ‘You didn't seem in the mood to talk—–'

‘No—I'm as susceptible to the beauty of a woman's naked body as the next man!’ He looked at her with dislike. ‘And when a wanton throws herself at you like that you don't stop to ask questions, you just take!'

‘It wasn't like that!’ She shook her head protestingly. ‘I only wanted—–'

‘What you wanted you got,’ he rasped. ‘And you enjoyed every moment of it! But there was something you overlooked in all your greedy little plans—yesterday was the second anniversary of Suzie's death!'

The room swam dizzily before Merlyn's eyes for several seconds. The second anniversary of his wife's death! Anne had started to tell her something on the telephone yesterday just before the line went down, and she knew it had to have been this. If only she had realised. But these last few weeks she had been so intent on researching the living Suzie that the actual date of her death hadn't registered as being yesterday. But if she had known would she really have acted any differently when she found Rand sobbing so brokenly last night?

‘Unless of course you did realise,’ that silky voice cut in, dangerously soft, ‘and decided I would be malleable on a day when Suzie's death was so vivid to me!'

‘You know that isn't true,’ Merlyn gasped, shaking her head in denial. ‘I wouldn't do a thing like that. You—–'

‘I don't know a damn thing about you—except that you can drive a man wild enough in your arms for him to forget everything else for a short time!’ His eyes were narrowed ominously. ‘I don't need to know any more than that about you. The answer is no, Merlyn. N.O.—No! Even if I were ever to agree to this travesty being made I wouldn't let a woman like you defile Suzie's memory!'

Merlyn would take his other insults, but not that one. Suzie Forrester had been a beautiful and lovely woman, but Merlyn wouldn't accept being told she wasn't fit to portray her! All she had done wrong was to want this man, and she wasn't even sure that had been so wrong. She had gone to him when he needed someone, and at the time he hadn't seemed to mind.

‘You know all these things you're saying about me aren't true,’ she challenged him angrily.

‘I told you, I know nothing about you—and I don't want to know!'

‘You know something about me you aren't willing to admit to yourself,’ she bit out. ‘Why is that, Rand?’ she cried bitterly. ‘Does it make it difficult to put the blame for last night on me?'

His eyes were cold, angry slits between lush lashes. ‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

‘You may have been a faithful husband, Rand, but you had plenty of years before you met Suzie to experience every type of lovemaking there is. And although you haven't admitted it, you have to know that last night was my first time with a man!'

CHAPTER FOUR

‘I KNOW it had been a while for you—–'

‘The first time,’ she insisted.

It had troubled her last night that Rand hadn't been aware of her innocence, and then she had been so lost to the ecstasy they were sharing that she had put it from her mind. But she knew he had to have been aware of that barrier he had breached, of the reason for her tears.

She continued to watch him challengingly.

‘You're an actress—–'

‘I couldn't fake something like that!’ she protested.

‘Of course you could, it's done all the time in the marriage bed,’ he taunted.

Merlyn shook her head disbelievingly. ‘Do you really think that?'

‘Yes!'

‘Then I pity you—–'

‘I told you last night, I don't want your damned pity—–'

‘After you had already taken it,’ Merlyn shot back. ‘If Suzie could only see you now!'

He became deathly still, his body taut with tension. ‘What do you mean?'

She sighed, accepting that he would never believe he had been her first lover—or he just didn't want to believe it. ‘I feel as if I've come to know her rather well since reading Anne's book—–'

‘It was incomplete,’ he rasped.

‘It was written from your wife's notebooks; you gave them to Anne yourself.'

‘Notes only tell a person's random thoughts, not what the person was really like.'

‘Anne knew her sister well enough to know what she was “really like”, and I've come to know her as well as I could without actually meeting her. And I know she would be disappointed in you—–'

‘Because I refuse to acknowledge the dubious virginity of a woman who gave herself to me for gain?’ he scorned viciously.

‘You didn't just bury your wife two years ago,’ Merlyn told him shakily. ‘You put your ability to care for other people in beside her!'

His mouth twisted. ‘This isn't a scene from some B-movie with some hackneyed happy-ever-after ending where the hero throws himself into the heroine's arms as he realises he's fallen in love with her! And I've heard all the lectures I need to from Anne.'

She flinched at his scorn; she hadn't expected her criticism to suddenly transform him into a man who could love again, she wasn't that naïve, but she had hoped that his cynicism wasn't so deep-rooted that he wouldn't even listen when someone was concerned about him.

‘Because she cares for you—–'

‘And what's your angle, Merlyn?’ he jeered softly. ‘Or do I really need to ask!'

It was useless trying to reason with this man, she didn't even know why she felt the compunction to try. And yet she felt as if she had let down Suzie's memory in some way by not being able to reach Rand through the barrier of his bitterness.

‘Anne's waiting,’ she said abruptly. ‘I hope you don't mind if I leave my car here until I can arrange to have it picked up. I—I hope you realise Anne knew nothing about—about the things you're accusing me of?’ She looked at him anxiously, having done enough damage without ruining his relationship with his sister-in-law too.

Grey eyes looked at her coldly. ‘Anne could never be involved in anything that sordid, I'm well aware that it was all your own idea.'

He was meaning to be insulting, and he was succeeding more effectively than he could guess. The last thing she would ever be involved in would be sleeping with anyone to get herself a role on screen or stage. And if Rand had known anything about her at all he would have realised that.

But he didn't know anything about her, as she really knew nothing of the man he was now. Two years ago he had been the loving husband of Suzie Forrester, had been her constant support as she struggled with the illness that wanted to take her away from him; God was the only one that knew what he had become in the interim. Merlyn and Rand were just two strangers who had made love, primitively, mindlessly. She had broken all of her own rules with a man who cared nothing for her, a man she had wanted in a way that was totally alien to her cautious nature, and she would just have to learn to accept that and get on with her life.

Nevertheless, she had to try one more time to explain her actions to this man. ‘I didn't plan what happened last night—–'

‘Would you just get out of here?’ he cut in disgustedly. ‘And tell your friend Drake not to send any more of the hitherto unknown actresses up here who have shared his bed to get their chance at the big-time; the next time my physical reaction might be a violent one! If it makes you feel any better,’ he added contemptuously, ‘you could probably have played Suzie; you certainly felt like her when I was inside you!'

Merlyn blanched at his cruelty as he revealed what she had feared, that he had imagined she was Suzie as he made love to her!

She turned blindly and stumbled out of the room, out of the house, her eyes swimming with unshed tears as she climbed up beside Anne in the Range Rover.

‘I put your case—Merlyn?’ Anne frowned at her worriedly. ‘My God, Brandon didn't hit you, did he?'

Not anywhere that it showed. Inside, where it mattered, she was battered and bruised, her last shreds of self-respect stripped from her with Rand's last deliberately cruel taunt.

She blinked back the tears. ‘Could we just get away from here? I—I really don't feel like talking about it right now.'

‘Of course.’ Anne still looked concerned, putting the Range Rover in gear, driving the large vehicle with a confidence born of familiarity. ‘Merlyn?’ she prompted gently once they had been driving in silence for several tension-filled moments. ‘I know Brandon can be impossible at times—–'

‘He's a cold, calculating bastard,’ she stated flatly, feeling as if he had stripped the very soul from her body.

Anne gave a ragged sigh. ‘He's that, too,’ she acknowledged heavily. ‘But he hasn't always been this way.'

‘I'm sure even he was a pleasant baby,’ Merlyn allowed, feeling numb from the heart up.

The other woman gave a rueful smile. ‘I meant a little more recently than that.'

She knew exactly what Anne meant, knew that Rand Carmichael had changed on the death of his wife. But he wasn't the only person ever to lose the one he loved in that tragic way, and it didn't give him the right to hurt her as he had, intentionally, coldly.

‘I understand all that, Anne,’ she said flatly, her eyes revealing her inner pain. ‘But it doesn't help me at the moment, maybe later …'

Anne frowned. ‘What did he do to you?'

Last night was going to be buried as far back in her memory as she could push it, never to be thought or talked about again. ‘Nothing,’ she bit out. ‘Let's just say this trip was a mistake, that I failed in what I set out to do, and leave it at that.'

‘If that's what you want,’ Anne agreed slowly. ‘But once Brandon's anger has calmed down—–'

‘I'm the one who's angry, Anne,’ she cut in forcefully. ‘And I certainly won't change my mind!’ Nothing was worth the humiliation she had suffered at Rand Carmichael's hands.

‘I'm sorry,’ the other woman said with genuine regret. ‘Still, that doesn't have to stop your staying on at the hotel with us for a few days; I'd like to get to know you after we spoke so much on the telephone.'

And Merlyn just wanted to get away from here and never think of Rand Carmichael again! But Anne had been friendly and kind to her from their first telephone conversation, and maybe if she just stayed on overnight and left in the morning it would placate the other woman.

‘Maybe I will.’ She didn't commit herself to the few days Anne had mentioned, turning to stare out of the window, making a determined effort to admire the spectacular countryside about her that hadn't been visible yesterday through the fog and the rain. High mountains dipped down into lush green valleys as far as the eye could see, and in those valleys Merlyn knew the lakes would be nestled, trees growing along their edge in abundance.

‘Here we are,’ Anne said with satisfaction as she turned the Range Rover into a narrow driveway much like the ones Merlyn had taken by accident the day before, the scent of pine from the towering trees surrounding them coming in through the partly-opened window next to Anne.

A long sprawling building much like a very large log cabin stood gracefully beside a large lake, its mellowed pine structure giving an air of warmth and beauty even before one entered.

‘It's lovely!’ Merlyn told her incredulously, seeing by the pleased expression on the other woman's face that her impulsive praise was appreciated.

‘James designed and organised the building of it all himself.’ Anne's pride in her husband's undoubted accomplishment was obvious. ‘Come inside and see the rest of it,’ she invited.

The inside was all pine too, warm and mellow, the main building housing all the entertainment, from the two restaurants, the club house, pool and sauna, to the health and beauty salon. And then at the back, not visible from the entrance, were two additional buildings, exact replicas of the main building, attached to it by two totally glass and pine constructed corridors that gave unhindered views of the surrounding mountains. These two outer buildings were the living accommodation, and Anne showed Merlyn to her room herself. The furnishing was more expensively comfortable than anything Merlyn had ever seen, from the thick brown carpets to the soft beige leather suite.

‘James says that if you're going to do something you should always do it with style!’ Anne laughed her enjoyment at Merlyn's awe-struck expression.

‘This is style with a capital S!’ She sank down on to the quilt-covered bed in the adjoining room to her lounge. ‘I can't wait to meet the man who master-minded all this.'

Anne's eyes glowed merrily. ‘Give me a few minutes to change out of these clothes and get back into my “hotel proprietor” garb and then join James and me at the pool for coffee; we usually get together there this time of day. And I know he's looking forward to meeting you, too.'

Thoughts of Rand were kept firmly at bay as Merlyn unpacked her suitcase, changing into tailored red trousers with their pleated waistline, tapering at the ankle, and a black silk blouse which tucked in at the belted waistline. She looked coolly elegant, and more confident of herself than she had felt since she left home yesterday morning with such high hopes of this visit to the Lake District.