Merlyn's Magic (20 page)

She still had her doubts about his having
been
anywhere, but she certainly wasn't going to start discussing her
aversion to a nude scene in the gazebo with Mark in front of Rand. 'It
can wait until tomorrow,' she answered tautly.

'If you say so,' he shrugged. 'I wouldn't have bothered
you this late at night but the receptionist seemed to think it was
urgent.'

'It wasn't,' she muttered through clenched teeth. 'At
least, nothing that can't wait until the morning.'

'If you're sure…?' He still lingered in the
open doorway.

Her eyes flashed. 'I'm sure, Christopher,' she told him
with controlled anger.

'Okay.' He didn't argue. 'Good night, Merlyn. 'Night,
Carmichael,' he added mockingly.

Merlyn let out a ragged sigh of relief as she leant back
against the closed door, looking apprehensively at Rand as he stood
across the room from her, his hands thrust into his trouser pockets.
Despite his bared chest and tousled hair he didn't even look
approachable, let alone like her lover.

'Why did you need to see him?' Rand spoke suddenly in the
awkward silence that had followed Christopher's departure.

She put a hand up to her temple as she moved away from the
door, feeling the tension there. 'I—There's a scene I'm not
too happy about.' She knew she sounded evasive, but how could she tell
Rand that it was intended that she should be naked tomorrow when she
played the part of
his
dead wife!

'Surely you ironed all that out weeks ago?' Rand's eyes
were narrowed.

'Christopher likes to—improvise, as he goes
along,' she admitted.

'And you aren't happy about the improvisation he has lined
up for tomorrow?'

Merlyn swallowed hard, moistening her lips, praying he
wouldn't ask what those changes had been—and knowing she
couldn't be that lucky. 'No.'

'What is it?'

'I—' Saved by the knock on the door; it had to
be the food this time!

She rushed to open the door, gratefully pulling the
slightly dazed waiter inside, giving him a dazzling smile as she signed
the bill.

'You're right,' she told Rand once the waiter had left,
clutching his more-than-generous tip. 'The sandwiches do look
delicious. And I will have just one glass of wine.' She sat
cross-legged on the bed with the tray in front of her, looking up at
him expectantly as he made no effort to join her. 'Rand?' she prompted
with a quick smile, hardly daring to breathe as she waited to see if he
would join her or continue to probe into tomorrow's filming. She felt
some of the tension leave her body as he slipped off the uncomfortably
stained trousers before joining her on the bed.

Merlyn hadn't had a late-night feast like this since she
was at boarding-school and one of the other girls had received a food
hamper, not protesting as Rand repeatedly topped up her wine glass,
feeling quite heady by the time they removed the tray and empty wine
bottle from the bed.

They made love slowly, lingering over every new delight,
Merlyn responding with a lack of inhibition she had no control over,
snuggling down against his chest as they lay replete in each other's
arms.

'Never feel you have to deliberately keep something from
me, Merlyn.' He smoothed her hair as he softly spoke. 'You don't owe me
any explanations, about anything.'

She wanted to explain to him, to try to make him
understand why she was so upset, she just didn't want to hurt him by
revealing what Christopher intended doing with the gazebo scene. But it
had been a long day, a tiring one, and she was exhausted by their avid
need of each other that didn't seem to lessen but intensify.

Instead of explaining she fell asleep.

'A whole morning,' Christopher ranted as he paced the
room. 'I've lost a whole morning's filming!'

'Well, I'm sorry,' Merlyn said impatiently. 'If I'd known
that I would have waited until tomorrow before falling through the
deck!' She glared at him.

'Very funny,' he argued back. 'You could have let someone
know of the damage you had done.'

'Again, I'm sorry, but at the time I was more concerned
with saving my life—'

'You saw me late last night— When you were
obviously concerned with Brandon Carmichael,' he realised disgustedly.
'And just how long has that been going on?' he accused.

Her face was flushed. 'None of your—'

'If you had only told me about the deck then I could have
got it repaired.' He ignored her indignation as he returned to what was
really bothering him. 'And—'

'In the middle of the night?' She gave him a sceptical
look.

'—then we wouldn't have wasted the whole
morning,' he finished exasperatedly, glaring at her.

'I repeat,' she said through gritted teeth. 'In the middle
of the night?'

'Of course,' Christopher dismissed. 'And then we wouldn't
have wasted the whole—'

'Morning,' Merlyn finished wearily. 'Speak for yourself,'
she muttered. 'I've enjoyed my morning.' She had woken up with a
headache and an unwillingness to do any work today. Her day had
brightened considerably when she found she didn't have to. 'Would you
care for a game?' She lent on her cue as she stood next to the
snooker-table in the hotel games-room.

'No,' he replied in irritation.

'Perhaps not,' she grimaced, deftly pocketing a red ball,
quickly followed by the black.

Christopher's eyes widened. 'Where did you learn to do
that?'

She gave him a vague smile while replacing the black ball
on its spot before pocketing another red. 'One of the advantages of
having such an older brother. One of the few,' she added with feeling.
'As we were both at boarding-school he never had a partner for snooker
during the school holidays!'

'You could be a professional,' Christopher said dazedly as
she pocketed one ball after another with complete accuracy.

'No, I couldn't,' she taunted. 'I'm an actress, remember.'

His scowl returned. 'I couldn't believe it when we went to
set up this morning and found that gaping great hole where you were
supposed to step up off the boat!'

'A gaping great hole big enough for a body to fall
through—mine!'

'All right, all right,' he sighed. 'You weren't hurt, were
you?' he asked grudgingly.

'At last,' she said with feeling. 'No, I wasn't hurt. But
if it hadn't been for Rand—'

'Carmichael was out there with you?' Christopher queried
with a frown. 'What were you doing, practising the gazebo scene?' he
taunted knowingly.

'Oh yes, the gazebo scene,' repeated Merlyn, dangerously
soft. 'I'm glad you brought that up.'

Christopher raised his brows in innocent enquiry. 'I
gather there's something about it that isn't to your liking?' he said
mildly.

'
Something
about it?' she echoed with
suppressed anger. 'Liza told me that you intend for us to play that
scene nude now!'

'Knowing what a little gossip she is, I thought she
might,' he drawled with satisfaction.

'I realise that,' she declared in anger. 'And you have to
know that I won't do it.'

'Won't, Merlyn?' he repeated, as if he had never heard the
word before.

And maybe he hadn't. He was the star around here, for all
that he remained behind the camera. 'It isn't supposed to be played
like that, Christopher,' she tried reasoning with him. 'They're
supposed to sink on to the sofa together, kissing passionately, while
the scene fades away to leave the rest to the audience's imagination.
That was the way we discussed it—'

'Don't tell me how to direct my film, Merlyn,' he
responded icily. 'I know how we discussed it, I just happen to have
decided it should be more explicit. The audience doesn't like having
things left to their imagination any more. This isn't some damned
love-story,' he added scornfully.

'But it is,' protested Merlyn. 'It was because Suzie loved
life, because she loved Rand, that she fought her illness and won.'

'It was because she didn't want to die,' he jeered. 'It
had nothing to do with love, for Carmichael or anything else. The human
body has a wonderful resilience to survive, against all odds.'

Merlyn shook her head. 'Faced with the same prospect, I
don't know if I'd have had the same strength.'

'Why not?' Christopher drawled. 'You love life. And
Brandon Carmichael,' he added softly.

Her breath caught in her throat as a blush flamed in her
cheeks. 'Christopher—'

'Hey, I'm not criticising,' he chided. 'I'm for anything
that keeps him happy—and out of my way.'

Her eyes darkened. 'That isn't the reason—'

'Look, Merlyn, your reasons are your own,' he assured her
briskly. 'I just hope you're sure of his.'

Merlyn became suddenly still. 'What do you mean?'

He shrugged his broad shoulders. 'I just hope, for your
sake, that he isn't looking at you and seeing his wife.'

He didn't, of course he didn't! And yet Christopher was
only putting into words what she feared herself. She was playing the
part of Suzie, had been made to look like her; Rand couldn't be blamed
if it was Suzie he saw.

'Forget I said that,' Christopher said self-disgustedly as
he saw her stricken expression. 'It's probably just sour grapes on my
part; I did want you myself, remember,' he confessed.

She gave him a rueful smile, the warmth not reaching the
bleakness of her eyes. 'Only because you knew I wasn't interested.'

'Well, if there was no challenge in the conquest it
wouldn't be worth bothering about, would it?' Did all men think that
way about attracting women? Did Rand? Because if he did she was very
much afraid she had been no challenge to him whatsoever, had been his
from the beginning.

'Not there, Merlyn,' Liza complained as she squirmed.
'Lower!'

She massaged her friend's aching back lower than the point
between her shoulder blades which was the exact spot Liza had been
complaining about seconds earlier. 'What on earth have you been doing?'
she mocked as the girl groaned as the ache was eased farther down.

Liza sat forward in the chair while Merlyn stood behind
her, her head back as she flexed her aching muscles. 'We didn't all
spend the day thrashing all comers to the snooker-table,' she moaned.
'Christopher decided the weather had cleared enough this afternoon to
do my scene on horse-back. I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten
years old and didn't know any better! I was so tense today my back
became locked.'

'Poor you,' Merlyn consoled.

'The horse wasn't too happy about it, either,' her friend
said with feeling. 'I'm too much of a lady to tell you where else I
hurt, but it is painful!'

Merlyn chuckled softly as Liza's awkward way of sitting
told her exactly 'where else' she hurt. 'Never mind,' she encouraged.
'It's done now.'

'No, it isn't,' Liza groaned. 'Christopher said I looked
like a puppet whose strings had got all tangled up; he's going to
reshoot it tomorrow before the gazebo scene. Talking of the gazebo
scene,' she half turned to Merlyn, the stiffness in her back preventing
her from turning all the way around, 'you must have taken quite a fall
last night.'

'I thought I was going to drown,' confirmed Merlyn with a
shudder of remembrance.

'I saw Mr Carmichael over there this morning before the
men started work,' Liza nodded. 'He looked grim. Hey, do you think I
could call him Rand like you do, it seems a little strange calling one
of my best friend's lovers Mr!'

'Call him what you want,' Merlyn said absently. 'Rand was
at the gazebo this morning?'

'Mm.' Her friend nodded again, once more enjoying her
massage. 'He was probably imagining what could have happened if he
hadn't been there to save you.'

Rand had left her this morning shortly after six o'clock
with the intention of going home to change before flying down to London
for the day; so what had he been doing at the gazebo?

'Ouch!' Liza complained indignantly as Merlyn's nails dug
into her back. 'I don't have to call him Rand if you would rather I
didn't,' she teased. 'You don't have to get violent about it!'

Merlyn stepped away from her friend, her smile weak. 'It
was an accident,' she excused. 'I think you should have a nice soak in
a hot bath now. It might help ease your other point of pain,' she added
dryly.

Liza stood up with difficulty. 'I'll never be able to get
back on that horse tomorrow.' She moved stiffly. 'Maybe I shouldn't
have lied when Christopher asked if I'd ridden a horse lately!'

Merlyn chuckled. 'Our director is certainly demanding.'

'No luck with him about the gazebo scene?' her friend
asked directly.

'No,' said Merlyn with feeling. 'Christopher is adamant he
wants it played that way.'

'Mark seems to be looking forward to it,' Liza told her
sympathetically.

Merlyn hadn't spoken to Mark all day, but she hadn't
needed to, his knowing looks enough; he really was looking forward to
tomorrow afternoon. And Merlyn didn't need anyone tell her why. The two
of them had been engaged to be married six years ago but their most
intimate caresses had been when Mark touched her breasts; tomorrow
afternoon he was going to take great pleasure in touching more than
that!

'He has nothing to worry about,' she said crossly. 'He'll
be wearing as much as if he were going for a swim.'

'Are you seeing Rand tonight?' Liza wisely changed the
subject.

Merlyn wasn't sure. He had said he would call her when he
got home, and he hadn't called yet. In view of his housekeeper's
reaction yesterday when she telephoned him, she was loath to call him
again.

'I don't know yet,' she revealed truthfully. 'He'll call
me if he gets back in time to come over.'

'If he hasn't called within the next hour come and rescue
me from the bath and we'll go and have dinner together. We haven't had
time to catch up on all that gossip yet.'