Merlyn's Magic (26 page)

'I don't know any more,' she sighed. 'I think I'm still me, a less cautious me than I'm used to
admittedly, but I'm still me. Most of the time,' she added with
hesitation.

'Maybe you've just been working too hard,' he advised
gently. 'It must be a strain having to be someone else for up to twelve
hours a day.'

If that were all it was! But it wasn't. She was used to
playing someone else, had never had any trouble shaking off a character
before. Besides, this had begun before she even came here and started
work, before she had even met Rand. Sometimes she felt as if her
actions were controlled by someone else completely…

That evening she and Rand went out to dine, the intimately
small restaurant serving a selection of both Italian and English
cuisine, an elderly man hauntingly playing the violin moving among the
tables.

But for the first time in days the atmosphere between
Merlyn and Rand was strained. Much as she hated to admit it, Mark's
conversation this morning had bothered her. If Suzie had left Rand, why
had she? If she had…

Merlyn had known of the rumours circulating at the time,
that because Suzie was in London and Rand was still at their house in
the Lake District the couple were actually living apart. But like the
majority of the general public she had believed Rand when he denied any
estrangement, and that angle of the story was dropped by even the most
persistent of reporters. But Mark had planted fresh seeds of doubt in
her mind that just couldn't be denied. Much as she had tried.

Rand was very quiet too, and while they had never been
carefree lovers telling each other their every thought, they
had
passed the stage where he sat in brooding silence while she tried to
guess at his mood.

She sat forward to place her hand over his. 'What is it?'
she prompted softly.

He looked up, focusing on her with effort, as if for a
while he had forgotten she was even there. 'Sorry.' He forced a smile
to the hardness of his mouth. 'I was miles away…'

Or years away. Suddenly, as she looked around at the
exclusive restaurant, remembered the way the maitre d' had seemed to
greet Rand as if he knew him, she understood. 'You used to come here
with Suzie!'

Rand's gaze was instantly watchful, his expression
guarded. 'Yes, I did.'

There was challenge in his voice, as if he expected her to
object. And she did, felt as if he were carrying out some sort of
experiment. And she was the guinea-pig! 'And?' she returned that
challenge.

He drew a ragged breath. 'And I can still see her sitting
there with a white rose in her hair,' he rasped harshly.

All the colour drained from Merlyn's face. 'A white
rose…?'

He nodded abruptly. 'They were her favourite flowers; I
always made sure the house was full of them.'

They were her favourite flowers too. But they hadn't
always been, she used to prefer yellow carnations to any other flower.
What was
happening
to her!

She stood up abruptly. 'I think I'd like to leave now,'
she told him tautly.

Rand nodded, throwing some money for their meal down on
the table before escorting her to the door, waving aside the manager's
concern that there had been something wrong with their meal, his
expression grim as he helped Merlyn into the waiting car.

'I'm sorry,' he finally exclaimed, the BMW eating up the
miles back to the hotel. 'For everything,' he added bitterly.

Merlyn turned in the darkness to look at him sharply. He
sounded suspiciously final. She could feel herself beginning to panic
at that realisation. 'It wasn't your fault,' she excused quickly. 'We
can't continue to avoid all the places you went to with
Suzie—'

'I took you there deliberately,' he put in abruptly, his
face granite-hard in profile.

Her panic rose to desperation. 'It was a very nice
restaurant—'

'I took you there to see if I could bear to be
anywhere
with you that I was with Suzie,' he cut in cruelly.

Merlyn swallowed hard. 'And?' she prompted as she had in
the restaurant.

'And I can't bear it.' His reply was pained.

Merlyn swallowed hard, starting to feel dizzy. 'Rand,
you—'

The coldness in his eyes as he glanced at her briefly
instantly silenced her. 'Something James said to me today made me
realise—'

'James?' She was instantly on her guard. But surely James
hadn't broken her confidence and revealed to Rand their conversation
earlier today?

'Yes.' Rand's eyes had narrowed. 'He and Anne like you,
and they're afraid I may be— using you.'

'Surely that is for me to decide?' she defended heatedly,
realising that while James hadn't betrayed her confidence he had put
doubts in Rand's mind.

'Do you feel used?'

Did she? Sometimes. But not as much as she had at first.
She
loved
Rand, so it didn't matter. Most of the
time. Tonight had been different because she had allowed Mark's
comments to get to her.

But she could see that Rand had taken her silence as
acquiescence, his expression grim. 'Rand, you've been married before,
it's only natural that you—'

'I still love my wife, Merlyn,' he interrupted harshly.
'The other night when I asked why you put up with me you said it was
because of sexual attraction. Were you telling the truth?'

She forced a dismissive laugh that somehow came out as a
choked rasp. 'Haven't I proved how attracted I am to you?'

Rand sighed, his hands gripping the steering-wheel so
tightly the knuckles showed white. 'You've always been very passionate,
even the night I took your virginity.'

'
What
?' He couldn't have just said
that, he
couldn't
!

His mouth was thinned so tautly a white ring of tension
encircled his lips. 'When we—made love that night I had no
idea, it was only later that I—'

'When?' she demanded emotionally.

He shook his head. 'I really didn't know that night. I'd
never been with a virgin before; Suzie was living with someone when I
met her, and the women I'd known up until that time weren't the type
to—I
didn't
know that night,' he
insisted gruffly.

'
When
?' she demanded again, her voice
shrill.

'As Anne pointed out, your—your lip was a mess,
and I'd assumed all the blood—After you left with Anne I took
another look. There was too much—I couldn't believe what I
was seeing,' he groaned. 'It took me several days to get up the nerve,
but I came over to the hotel to apologise—'

'No!' Merlyn gave a choked cry as she knew the dream that
had haunted her for so long hadn't been a dream at all.

He breathed raggedly. 'Your door was unlocked, I just
slipped inside to talk to you. You were asleep, or at least you seemed
asleep when I first came in. You looked so young. I bent down to smooth
the hair back from your cheek, and—'

'And then you made love to me!'

He shook his head. 'You put your arms up about my neck,
called my name. It was dark in the room, I thought you were awake, that
you wanted me as I suddenly wanted you again, so badly. It was only
later, afterwards—You seemed to be in some sort of delirium.
I thought you had wanted me too, and you didn't even know what had
happened!'

Oh, she had known, she just hadn't known
who
!
'Is that the reason you finally agreed to let me star in the film?' she
slowly gasped. 'A guilty conscience!'

Colour darkened his cheeks. 'Drake had made it clear he
intended making the film anyway, and I—I never meant to come
near you again, and I wouldn't have done if something hadn't happened
and I—I needed you. I realise that's no excuse,
but—'

'You're right, it isn't.' She was hurt and confused by the
admissions he had made, deliberately banishing from her mind the reason
he had needed her that day. He had known she was a virgin that first
night since the day after it had happened, and he had said
nothing
!
And he had left her with the haunting memory of their lovemaking, not
knowing if she had dreamt it or not. 'You implied that you thought
Christopher was my lover,' she reminded him accusingly. 'Another salve
for your conscience?'

'I realise I was wrong about his being your lover before
you met me, but afterwards—'

'Afterwards?' she spat out. 'I was too stunned by having
taken you as a lover to want another one! Promiscuity has never
interested me—'

'When you came to me that first time you did it out of
pity—'

'I did it out of
love
,' she defended
her actions vehemently, her eyes flashing with green sparks. 'I loved
you then, and I—'

'No!' His denial was an anguished cry, his face very pale
in the moonlight. 'I don't want your love. I don't want any woman's
love.'

'I know that,' Merlyn said with quiet dignity. 'But I
can't turn the emotion off just because you don't want it. I love you,
and tonight—tonight you've hurt me more badly than I ever
dreamt possible.' He didn't want her, had made it clear she could never
even marginally replace his wife. And worst of all, he had only agreed
to let her star in the film as a salve to
his
conscience. All this time he had let her go on thinking he didn't
believe her. And she would never forgive him for not revealing the
truth about that day in her hotel room.

'I know just how much I've hurt you,' he acknowledged
harshly. 'That's why this has to end.'

' "This" being our affair?' scorned Merlyn bitterly.

'Yes.'

Tears glazed her eyes, and she felt as if a knife had been
thrust between her breasts, but she agreed with him; it had to end. She
wasn't a masochist, and there was only so much she could do to fight a
memory. Where once she had admired and respected Suzie Forrester she
now thought she hated her.

'Consider it over,' Merlyn uttered brokenly.

Rand's eyes gleamed silver in the subdued lighting outside
the hotel as he brought the car to a halt, leaving the engine running
as he turned to look at her. 'Just like that?' he said gruffly.

She stiffened into a straight-backed position, conscious
of his arm resting on the back of his seat as he turned sideways to
look at her. 'My father is an orthopaedic surgeon, and he's always told
me that a nice clean break is always best. I'm sure that must apply to
hearts as well as bones,' she added, her voice bitter.

'Merlyn—'

'No—don't touch me!' She shied out of reach of
his hands.

Rejected, they clenched into fists before dropping back to
his sides. 'I never meant to hurt you, Merlyn.'

'Then why did you?' Her voice was flat, emotionless.

He shook his head. 'Probably because hurting people is
what I do best!'

She looked at him probingly, suddenly concerned at how
pale he was. 'Rand—'

He straightened in his seat with a finality that cut short
her questioning. 'You only have another week of filming here,' he
stated. 'I think it would be better for everyone if I were to go to
London and stay there for that time.'

Better for him, because then he could forget he had ever
known a little virgin named Merlyn Summers. And better for her because
she wouldn't have to die a little each time she saw him. 'This is
goodbye, then,' she said abruptly.

Rand's mouth tightened, a nerve pulsing in his jaw. 'Yes.'

She winced, her hands starting to shake as she held back
the tears. 'No age-old platitudes now either?' she said self-derisively.

He drew in a harsh breath, his eyes pained. 'You are such
a beautiful woman—'

'No more,' she requested shakily, the Summers sense of
dignity she had drawn on so much during her relationship with Rand once
again coming to her rescue. If Rand ever thought of her she wanted him
to remember the good times. And there had been some of them, no matter
how much he might wish there hadn't. 'You'll turn my head with your
compliments,' she dismissed lightly. 'I wish you luck in your future
life, Rand.' Her voice began to tremble emotionally. 'I'd wish you
happiness too, but I don't think you'll ever find that when you're
living your life with a ghost!'

'Merlyn—'

'I'm not going to apologise for saying that,' she warned
him. 'You
are
living with a ghost.'

'Memories, Merlyn,' he corrected painfully. 'I'm haunted
by them!'

She nodded abruptly. 'I understand.'

'I doubt it.' He looked sad. 'Maybe one day—'

'Don't, Rand,' she choked. 'Don't give me hope when you
know there is none!'

His throat moved convulsively. 'Can I kiss you one last
time?'

Her eyes widened at the request. 'Do you want to?'

'God, yes,' he said with feeling, but he made no move to
touch her as he tensely waited for her answer.

This man had just said goodbye to her after telling her he
still loved his wife and yet she could see that he did truly want to
kiss her. She didn't understand him, but that was nothing new. She
didn't understand herself either as she moved into his arms.

Their mouths fused in heated longing, Rand drinking from
her lips again and again as he curved her breasts against his chest,
his very gentleness tearing her heart from her body. She sobbed low in
her throat as she became even more his, wanting to beg him not to leave
her, to plead with him to take her to London with him and just forget
the rest of the world existed. But she didn't.

And so the kiss went on, until both of them were shaking
with a need neither had any intention of assuaging.

Rand was finally the one to push her firmly away from him,
unclasping her hands from about his neck. 'It really was good between
us, Merlyn, and you are wonderful,' he told her gruffly. 'The problems
all lie with me. I just wish—Wishing is for fools and
children.' His voice hardened. 'Just keep away from Hillier, okay?' he
prompted with concern.