HOT SET: Playing with Fidelity (A romantic suspense novel) (21 page)

Mark
attempted slipping into a meditative state for the tenth time in as many minutes when the plane seat fell sharply away in what he guessed was a conspiratorial attempt to pummel him with the ceiling. He’d always been a terrible flyer and while his mathematical brain knew it was irrational, the reality of being thousands of meters in the air in a pressurised metal tube terrified him, even without turbulence. His knuckles were a sickly white where his hands death-gripped both armrests. Mark’s eyes were tightly shut, the mental images of rolling green hills and tropical islands projecting on his eyelids.

“
We apologise for the turbulence,” the captain cheerily broadcast over the tinny speakers, sounding far too relaxed in the face of imminent death. “We’re crossing a very long weather front and should be out of it very soon. We’re currently on schedule and we should be touching down in Alice Springs in 45-minutes.”

Oh God
. Might as well be 45-hours.

Breathe in through nose,
hold, count to five... one, two, three, four, five. Breathe out through mouth slowly. Breathe in through nose, hold, count to seven...

The plane
was thrown violently to the right.

One... two...
Oh God, I’m gonna die!

Mark
wondered if being launched from a catapult would be a smoother way to travel. At least the landing would be predictable.

The trip smoothed out ten minutes before the plane bounced joyfully along the airstrip at Alice Springs Airport.
Mark’s relief was immediate.

He
looked out the window and saw... well, not that much. A low lying, dark green range was in the far distance, dwarfed by an enormous cloud-speckled, azure sky. Rough-looking gum trees were scattered along the runway and the mahogany dirt peeped through the wind-tilted brush and dry grasses. It was like another planet.

He snapped off the
seatbelt before the plane reached the terminal, despite a glare from the flight attendant, and pulling his travelling case from under the seat in front, Mark put in his architecture magazine and bottle of cola inside and zipped it up. Still traumatised from the tortuous flight, he wanted off the plane immediately. He stood as soon as possible and shuffled past other passengers to be at the front of the line.

“
It will be just one more moment, sir. Just waiting for the stairs,” said the same flight attendant who’d glared at him earlier.

Mark shook off the mental image of tearing the door off Hulk style
.

It took
two-and-a-half minutes to get the stairs attached to the plane and the door unlocked.

“
Have a nice day!” smiled the flight attendant. Mark forced a polite smile her way and quickly clunked down the steep stairs. The wind ripped at his clothing and blocked his ears with the wrath of the Furies.

“
God forsaken place,” he mumbled.

Thirteen
steps later, his feet touched blessed earth. Mark wanted to lie prostrate on the cracked surface and kiss it.

It took 40-minutes to get his
luggage and hire car and he set off with the GPS sweetly guiding him to the hotel he’d booked. He’d drive out to the set after checking in. His little blue Toyota Corolla felt so safe after the plane and he wound down the windows to let the warm air settle his nerves.

When he reached the edge of Alice, he was
happy to see the town was bigger than he expected. Desert suburbia sat comfortably on the inhospitable dirt broken by large streets of low traffic. Even with a lack of sky scrapers, the centre of town was built up. He liked it immediately.

He was 50m from the turn-off to his
hotel when the world went black.

Pain exploded
between his temples and he put his palm to his forehead and wailed. It was only a fluke that he steered the car into the parking lane without hitting anything and with one hand on his face, he rummaged in his bag for the Panadine Forte always kept there. Snapping off three, Mark swallowed them with the cola and then leant forward on the steering wheel to breathe deeply
. Freakin fire trucks, this migraine is the worst yet
.

It was
30-minutes before his vision returned.

Mark pulled the car back onto the road and with his head still pounding
and spots in his vision, he drove carefully to the hotel where he checked in and then dumping his bags in the foyer of the room, dropped onto the bed.

Not once had he considered seeing a doctor.

Kate
tried to focus as she wiped her make-up off in the caravan, the angles of her face lit by the unbecoming light. Her thoughts were full of the night before, of the rough skin of Rhys’s hand and how warm it felt holding hers. She was in a medley of conflicting emotions of sadness, arousal, torment and daydreams. And the greatest of all of these was guilt. Overwhelming guilt. She’d forgotten herself, forgotten she’d vowed fidelity to Mark, even forgotten where she was. Her thoughts again went to that moment by the fire and her heart buzzed a radiating tingle through her chest. This was wrong. So very wrong.

Kate
rubbed in some thick moisturiser, brushed some light powder across her face and then stood up, removing the make-up cape as she did so. She shook out her comfy black work-out pants and straightened her loose, blue cotton t-shirt and stepped out into the early evening, the smell of Nambita’s amazing cooking languidly floating around her.

Then
, a familiar figure entered her peripheral vision.

Tears immediately stung her eyes and she choked out with a half insane
laugh, “Mark”.

He hauled her up against
him and she squeezed his neck, burying her head into his cheek.

“
What are you doing here?”

“
I thought I’d surprise you.”

“
I’m so glad you did.”

Mark kissed her thoroughly then cupped her face in his hands while he did a slow peruse of her face, noting
the half-healed scratches.

“
Are you okay?”

“
Yeah. I’m fine.” She managed a crooked smile. “I’m so glad to see you,” she repeated.

He kissed her again
.

Kate
asked him where he was staying.

“
In Alice. I have a hotel room there, although I didn’t think you guys’d be this far out.”

“
How’d you find us?”

“
A GPS I’ve called Jane. She’s been bossing me around.”

“
Jane, huh? Smart woman.”

He
gave her another kiss.

“
Right, so show me around.”

“
Come hither.”

Kate
took his hand and holding it tightly, gave a guided tour of the makeshift camp introducing him to everyone.

“
Everyone’s in a tent?”

“
Yep, for the next four days, at least. Then we move into the cabins.”

“
So, even the actors?”

She knew what he was getting at.

“Yes. Even the mighty Rhys is in that one over there.” She pointed to the tent that looked just like the rest.

“
How come he didn’t get the star treatment?”

“
He wanted it this way, but his EA is in a cabin.” She didn’t want to talk about Rhys so changed the topic.

“
I haven’t asked how long you’re staying for?”

“
Four days. I rescheduled a few things so I could come out. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He paused and pulled her into a hug. “Are you?”

She couldn’t look him in the eye
. She buried her face into his familiar smelling shirt, the turmoil of the last 24-hours already fading into the reassurance of her husband’s arms.

“
I’m okay, sweetheart. Really.”

He
tucked her hair back. “I feel like I should thank Bradford.”

“
No, don’t,” she was quick to reassure him. “He’ll just be embarrassed.”

Mark didn’t say anything
.

“
You know, Nambita would have dinner ready by now. Want to come?”

“
Is that okay?”

“
Yep. Come this way.”

Dinner was a
s superb as ever, even with everyone crammed into the dining tent elbow to elbow. Nambita had slow roasted two large hides of beef with a side of roast vegies, real gravy from the meat and a barley and green bean salad. Mark nearly expired.

“
This is.... can’t even explain it. How does she do it out here? She’s just fed 60 people a gourmet meal.”

“
She’s a magician, that’s all I can say.” Kate stood and started to clear the table of the condiments while taking her and Mark’s plate in the other hand. On the way to the dishes station, Rhys came through a tent flap. She pulled on a face of professional poise.

“
You’ve nearly missed dinner. We’re just cleaning up.”

“
Thanks, not very hungry.”

“
You? Since when are you not hungry?”

“
It happens.”

Kate
shrugged and loaded the sauce bottles onto the trolley. Rhys stood behind her uncomfortably and conspicuously.

She
shot him a look.

“
I’ve noticed your husband is here.”

“
Yes,” she responded quietly, not looking at him.

Kate
focused on placing the dishes onto the bench, the hairs on her neck standing on edge in the awkward silence. Rhys walked behind her, the breeze of his passing stirring her. She hurried back to the table and Mark as soon as she could.

Rhys was pissed off.

He had zero claim on her, none.
Yet he actually felt a stab of jealousy when she threw herself at her husband. He was jealous? Of the woman’s own husband?
Dickhead
!

Amelia was waiting for him in the States
. She was beautiful and had no other attachments. He was content with their relationship. Why wouldn’t he be?

Kate
was a happily married woman, if the way she greeted Mark was any indication. He was returning to his tent from the toilet block when he saw her emerge from the make-up caravan and was just about to set his feet in that direction when he saw her slumped demeanour grow into pure happiness. Like a child, he hid behind a tent and watched them greet each other, hoping at the same time no one was observing his cowardly behaviour. When they left together, he slipped into his tent and hid. Yep, he actually hid. He was just as furious at his own behaviour.

Finally his growling stomach pulled him from the tent and he was hoping he could pop in and out without having to talk to anyone
. Of course it wouldn’t happen like that. His appetite disappeared the moment he spoke to her.

And
now, still sitting sulking in his tent, he realised he had to get out of here.

Rhys
pulled on his runners and broke into a frustrated sprint along the road leading into the desert, the darkness stripping him of colour until all that was left was the distant sound of his thumping footsteps.

Mark didn’t mention to Kate the migraine incident in the car. He knew she’d just worry and his head felt fine now. They talked well into the night, so late he ended up staying in the tent with her instead of driving back.

Kate
snuggled up to him in her narrow camp bed, took a deep breath of his familiar scent and ran her hands down the body she knew so well. This was the man she was in love with. The gentle, kind person who adored and cared for her enough that he’d leave a massive project and travel thousands of kilometres just to check on her.

Lying in her husband’s arms made all the torment with
Rhys seem insignificant and she welcomed Mark as he started to quietly make love to her. They fell asleep wrapped around each other.

Mark was awakened with the noisy fanfare of a film set: Pete bellowing about a locked case, two make-up artists discussing the day’s schedule, laughter from the dining tent and in the background, the fine chatter of desert parrots. He was alone in the tent and Kate’s side of the bed was cold. He rummaged beside the bed for his watch and had to blink at the time.

“
9:25?” he said out loud. He hadn’t slept that late in years. He scrambled out of the sleeping bag, clambered quickly into yesterday’s clothes and stepped from the tent into a beautiful day.

“
Morning, Mark,” greeted Dave, who was in the tent next door.

“
Morning! I slept in,” Mark admitted sheepishly.