Merlyn's Magic (8 page)

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.

Yesterday morning? It seemed much longer ago than that,
she realised with a suppressed shudder.

She had no trouble finding her way back to the main
building, the whole place geared for simplicity, including finding your
way about. She was glad she had chosen to wear a blouse, instead of the
jumper the weather called for, as the heat from the pool enveloped her.
She seemed to have arrived before Anne, and—

'Looking for someone?' an amused male voice cut in on her
reverie.

She turned to face the man, feeling as if she could drown
in the liquid warmth of his deep brown eyes. Dark hair brushed away
from the face of one of the most handsome men Merlyn had ever seen, the
white shorts and open T-shirt he wore moulded to the lean fitness of
his body. The tennis-racket he carried was indicative of at least one
of the ways he maintained that fitness. At any other time she might
have felt interested enough to pursue the acquaintance, but not when
she was still raw from her encounter with Rand.

Her smile was coolly dismissive. 'As a matter of fact, I
am,' she nodded, her attention returning to the pool where several
adults and children were cavorting in the heated water oblivious to the
dismal weather outside.

'Could I offer you a cup of coffee while you wait?' the
man suggested, indicating the coffee pot and cups that stood on the
table beside them for anyone to help themselves to after their swim.
Several tables were placed about the pool's side, the padded chairs
around them covered in a restful green material that exactly
complimented the abundance of foliage about the room.

Her smile was frosty this time. 'No, thank you,' she bit
out with emphasis.

'Then perhaps I could—'

'No!'

'You must be new here today, I haven't seen you about
before,' he smiled pleasantly.

And she was sure he made a point of meeting all the women
young enough to find his looks and charm appealing. He had chosen the
wrong woman this time! 'Please,' she sighed her impatience, 'I'm
waiting for——'

'Ah good.' Anne hurried out to her, the design of the
royal-blue dress suiting her ample curves perfectly, the high heels on
her sandals giving her extra height. 'The two of you have already
introduced yourselves.' She beamed her pleasure.

'No, we—' The man Merlyn was rapidly suspecting
of being James Benton returned her gaze with the same dawning
realisation. 'Merlyn!' He grinned at her discomfort, holding out his
hand.

She limply returned his firm handshake, deciding that the
next stranger she met she would presume was the last person she had
suspected; she certainly hadn't even guessed that this was Anne's
husband James.

She grimaced—cringed, actually. 'I'm sorry if I
seemed rude to you just now—'

'You didn't.' He gave her an understanding smile, those
brown eyes twinkling merrily.

'What did you do?' Anne frowned her confusion as they all
sat down.

'What did
I
do,' her husband
corrected ruefully. 'I thought I was playing the concerned hotel
manager, and Merlyn thought I was trying to pick her up!'

Merlyn blushed as he put into words what she had already
realised, all of his friendliness a few moments ago made in an effort
to make her feel at home. 'It wasn't quite like that. We—'

Anne grinned at her discomfort too now, sharing a look of
intimacy with her husband. 'That makes a change, it's usually the
female guests who try to pick James up!'

Merlyn was well aware of the fact that not by a word or
deed had James given the impression he was trying to be more than
helpful, that she had just
assumed
— If
Elizabeth Taylor walked in here right now and told her she was Beth
Jones she would take her word for it! Her judgment was sadly off beam
lately.

'I really am sorry if I seemed rude to you,' she grimaced
at James.

'Hey, after a run in with Brandon you're entitled to feel
a bit jumpy,' he sympathised. 'And I'm not exactly dressed for the part of debonair hotel
manager,' he agreed wryly.

This man would look someone of authority no matter what he
did or didn't wear, possessing an animal grace that bespoke confidence
in himself and his abilities.

Merlyn complimented him on the design of the hotel,
avoiding the subject of Rand Carmichael and the night she had spent at
his house as his unwelcome guest.

If the truth were known she didn't feel all that well. Her
throat was sore, her nose felt ticklish and irritated, and her head
ached. But after the mess she had already made of her visit, she felt
the least she owed the Bentons was to be sociable now that she had
arrived, joining them for dinner in their private lodge a short
distance away from the hotel through the trees.

Just being with the other couple was enough to show Merlyn
how wrong her first impression of James as a flirt really was; the
married couple were obviously very much in love, constantly touching
with a warmth that bespoke intimacy, their expressions rapt as they
gazed into each other's eyes. After the cool respect her parents showed
for each other, the Bentons' relationship was quite an eye-opener for
her.

But she felt even more ill by the time James walked her
back to her suite, her eyes stinging too now, and she knew it wasn't
just from the cold she could feel coming on. Anne and James had the
closest, most special relationship she had ever seen, and the nearest
Merlyn had ever come to feeling that sort of love herself had been when
she looked at Rand Carmichael for the first time and knew she wanted
him. And that wasn't the same thing at all.

'What happened between you and Brandon last night,
Merlyn?' James spoke in the darkness.

Her face drained of all colour, and the pounding in her
head became stronger. She swallowed hard. 'He made it clear he doesn't
want anyone, least of all me, portraying his wife,' she explained
huskily.

'That was this morning, I'm talking about last night.'

Merlyn kept her face averted, knowing those deep brown
eyes could become hypnotic if she let them, and that beneath the
gentleness of his love for Anne he could be as ruthless as the next
man. She shrugged. 'What makes you think anything happened?'

His mouth quirked at her evasion. 'It may have escaped
your notice, but the rest of us call him Brandon.'

'So?' she challenged, having noticed that discrepancy
herself, but putting it down to the fact that last night he had wanted
to forget who he really was as he made love to her.

'So you tell me,' James prompted softly.

'He let me sleep in his spare bedroom because he had no
choice,' she dismissed hardly.

'Is that all?'

'What else were you expecting?' She forced lightness to
her expression as she turned to face him on their entrance to the hotel
reception.

He made a rueful expression. 'Well, I haven't seen too
much of Brandon lately; his choice not mine,' James added hardly. 'But
he always used to be able to appreciate a beautiful woman.'

'Appreciate, James?' she mocked with raised brows.

'Enjoy,' he drawled.

Her eyes flashed. 'The most enjoyment Rand found with me
was this morning when he told me to get out of his life and stay out,'
she related bitterly, knowing she spoke the truth. He hadn't found
physical release with Merlyn Summers last night, he had made love to
Suzie, his wife.

'I'm sorry.' James took her hand in his. 'He wasn't always
like this.' His head shook regretfully. 'The four of us used to have a
lot of fun when we were together.'

'You and Anne, and Rand and Suzie,' Merlyn said abruptly.

'Yes,' he sighed, seeming lost in thought. 'It feels like
another lifetime.'

Merlyn had no wish to hear about the cosy foursome they
had made. 'You had better get back to Anne, she'll be wondering where
you are,' prompted Merlyn lightly. 'And I want to get a good night's
rest before going back to London tomorrow.'

'You're sure we can't persuade you to stay on a few more
days?' said James regretfully.

They had been trying all evening, ever since she had told
them she would be leaving in the morning. 'No one could do that!' she
told James vehemently.

As it happened it wasn't a
someone
that prevented her leaving but a
something;
she
woke up in the morning with a raging temperature, a rasping sore
throat, and legs that refused to support her to the bathroom let alone
all the way back to London!

The chill she had picked up during her constant dousings
when she arrived raged for three days and nights, the fever finally
breaking on the third night. She woke up to find Anne sitting beside
her bed, the other woman instantly putting down the book she had been
reading to bend over her concernedly.

'How are you feeling?' she probed gently.

'I hurt,' Merlyn managed to croak. 'All over!'

'That's to be expected,' Anne nodded, talking softly,
seeming to know without being told that any loud noise would hurt
Merlyn's throbbing head. 'Can I get you anything?' she prompted.

Merlyn sipped the cool water Anne helped her sit up to
drink, her face deathly pale even from that small effort as she lay
back against the pillows.

'Don't try and talk any more,' Anne encouraged. 'Just go
back to sleep. You'll rest properly now that the fever has broken. And
you'll want to look your best when Christopher arrives…'

Merlyn fought the waves of sleep that washed over her,
trying desperately to take in what Anne was saying about Christopher.
The sleep defeated her.

She was out of bed and sitting in a chair in the lounge
when Christopher arrived the next day, having been admiring the view of
the lake out of the long glass doors that opened out on to her small
off-the-ground balcony.

Not knowing who to contact when Merlyn became ill, Anne
had finally telephoned Christopher and he had promised to let her
parents know she was all right, at the same time informing Anne that he
would be down himself once he had finished filming. Merlyn had smiled
ruefully when Anne related the last a little indignantly; that sounded
like the Christopher she knew and liked, work had to come first.