Superstar (31 page)

Helen gasped
and paled, swaying. Carrin thought that she would pass out, and
Mark watched her coldly.

Helen gulped.
"You mean you tricked me? This was all an act?"

He nodded.

She stared at
him, her colour returning in two spots on her cheeks. "You bastard!
How could you play such a dirty trick?"

Mark shrugged.
"It was no dirtier than the trick you played on Carrin, was
it?"

Helen's eyes
shimmered with tears, and she stepped towards him, reaching for him
again. He clasped his hands behind his back, and she gripped the
lapels of his jacket.

"Don't do this
to me, please! I'm sorry I tricked her. I was desperate! Don't you
understand? I've loved you for so long, but you never looked at me
twice! I wasn't thinking straight!"

"You reap what you sow, i
n this case, unhappiness."

Helen bowed
her head and clung to him, her forehead pressed against his chest.
He turned his head away, and Carrin glimpsed the emotion on his
visage. Pity? Sorrow?

Helen raised a
tear-streaked face. "Don't do this, please?"

He looked at
her, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "I helped you. I gave you a job
and tried to help you to become a model, which is what you said you
wanted. But you spoilt every interview I arranged. You didn't want
a career, you wanted me. When you didn't succeed, you turned on me
like a viper, and now you want me to feel sorry for you?"

Helen stared
at him, her expression hardening. "You bastard." She stepped back
and slapped him with a ringing crack, jerking his head to the side.
He did not even look at her.

"I hope you
rot in Hell for this, Mark Lord!" She swung to face Carrin. "Now
you see what he's really like! He's a monster! He takes pleasure in
hurting the women who love him. He'll never love anyone. He just
uses them; he'll take your love and throw it in your face when he's
finished."

Mark grabbed
her arm and pushed her towards the door. "That's enough."

Helen shouted
over her shoulder, "Don't give him the satisfaction! He's broken
more hearts than any man alive. That's his idea of fun!"

Mark jerked
open the door and frog-marched Helen out into the hall, slamming
the door behind him to cut off her venomous shrieks.

Carrin stared
at the door, her mind whirling. He had indeed proved to her that
Helen had lied and tricked her, but at the same time he had just
done to Helen exactly what Carrin suspected him of trying to do to
her. He had fooled Helen, made her think he loved her with his
ability to act, so that he could get what he wanted from her. He
had proved how easily he could play the part of an ardent lover,
when nothing could be further from the truth. Carrin swallowed the
sour sting of bile. His duplicity was astounding.

Mark returned,
closing the door behind him. He looked rattled, and went over to
the drinks cabinet to pour a stiff scotch, draining it in a gulp. A
red mark marred his cheek, and he rubbed it as he turned to
her.

"Well, have I
proved to you that I don't beat up women?"

She nodded,
and he poured another drink before walking over to a chair and
flopping into it.

"Boy, she
packed quite a wallop."

"What did you
do with her?"

"Don't
worry; I didn't stuff her down the garbage disposal or anything.
John's taking her home."

"Well, then
I'll have to call a taxi." She got up.

Mark stared up
at her. "You're leaving?"

"Yes. You
proved your point, as you said, but I think what you did to Helen
was just as bad."

He stood,
putting down his glass. "She deserved it. What I did to her wasn't
as bad as what she did. She tricked you out of spite - sheer
malice. I just made her tell the truth. How else could I do it? If
I had offered her money, you'd have said that she would tell you
anything I wanted. It was the only way to do it without
coercion."

"She's
in love with you. That's why she did what she did, out of jealousy
and pain, because you didn't love her in return. What could be
crueller than using that against her?"

He snorted.
"She doesn't love me! She's just after what I've got."

"How do you
know that? She looked pretty upset to me."

"Because she
hadn't won, as she thought. That was anger you saw, not hurt. Helen
wants fame and money, the glory of being involved with a famous
person and rubbing shoulders with celebrities."

Carrin rubbed
her brow. "Maybe you're right, I don't know anymore. I just want to
go back to my hotel." She headed for the door.

"Wait." Mark
came after her, blocking her way. "Why do you think I went to all
this trouble? Not just to have you walk out on me."

"No, to prove
your point."

"Yes, to prove
to you that I'm not a man who hits women, a monster, like you
thought I was."

Carrin raised
her chin and met his eyes. "Instead you're a man who deceives
women, leads them on, uses their emotions to get what he wants,
then tosses them aside, just like Helen said. That was a stunning
performance, Mark, bravo!"

He stared at
her. "My god, I've just dug an even bigger hole for myself, haven't
I?"

"Yes, you
have."

"I didn't
enjoy doing that, I hated it. I only did it because I care about
you. If I didn't, do you think I would have gone to all that
trouble? Why would I care about what you thought of me, if I didn't
want something more from you than just friendship?"

"Oh, I know
what you want from me; I just can't believe the lengths you're
prepared to go to, to get it."

Mark reached
out and grasped her shoulders, his eyes intent, making her long to
look away, but she could not. "I don't just want to seduce you; I
could have done that any time. I know you feel something for me;
I've glimpsed it in your eyes, though you've tried very hard to
hide it. Why can't you see that I feel the same way about you?"

His words cut
her to the core, like knives of fire slashing at her heart and the
fragile dream that sheltered there. He was tearing it apart with
his lies, and the pain forced burning tears into her eyes.

"Stop it,
Mark," she gritted.

For a long
moment he stared at her, then he released her and stepped back.
"Okay. I'm rushing you. You're angry and upset, I can see that. I
don't particularly want to have my face slapped again." He ran a
hand through his hair. "There's no need to call a taxi, I'll take
you back to the hotel myself."

Mark stepped
around her and opened the door, leaving her in an emotional ebb
tide. She had expected him to push the issue, now that he thought
he had allayed her fears, but instead he had sidestepped the
problem neatly. Her legs shook a little as she walked past him into
the hall. Instead of taking her to the front door, he guided her
into a part of the house she had never been in before. They passed
along a corridor, where Mark plucked a set of keys off the wall. He
pushed open a door at the end, and Carrin stepped into an enormous
garage.

Chapter
Fourteen

A row of
gleaming cars basked under bright neon lights. The nearest was a
sleek white E-type Jaguar, the next a Triumph Roadster, and after
that was a bright yellow Lamborghini. Carrin stared at the sleek
machines, whose beauty bemused her. Mark led her past all of them
to the one at the end, a black Lotus Esprit. He opened the
passenger door for her, and she hesitated before sliding into the
soft black leather seat. She stared at the gleaming, ultra-modern
dashboard with its many screens and instruments. It looked like the
command module of a space shuttle. A cell phone nestled next to the
gear lever, and a complicated sound system glinted above a row of
flash-drives.

Mark slid into
the bucket seat beside her and turned to smile at her as he started
the car. The deep throb of a powerful engine came from behind her,
quieting to a soft hum. He pushed some buttons on the dashboard.
Soft music filled the car, and the garage door opened.

"Do you like
it?"

She nodded.
"If you're trying to impress me, I'm impressed."

"I'm not
trying to impress you; I'm just taking you back to the
hotel."

"Then why ask
if I like it? Who wouldn't?"

He shot her an
exasperated look. "Okay, point taken."

"How many cars
do you have?"

"More than I
have pools."

"I'll
bet."

He sighed and
put the car into reverse, turning to look behind, his arm across
the back of her seat. "It keeps John busy, polishing them all."

"I thought
John was pretty busy ferrying all your girlfriends around."

Mark chuckled.
"Not really. He does have the odd spare moment."

"If you're not
trying to impress me, why did you choose the most expensive car you
have?"

"It's not,
actually. The Lamborghini cost more, but this one's my favourite.
If I'd really wanted to be ridiculous, I could have used the old
Ford Escort I let Rita borrow."

She snorted.
"As if I'd believe you drive around in an old Ford Escort."

"Exactly."

Mark
manoeuvred the car out of the garage and turned it into the long
driveway.

"What about
the press at the gates?" she asked.

"What about
them?"

"They can see
through these windows." The Lotus's glass was slightly tinted, but
not as impervious to prying eyes as the limousine's.

"Don't you
want to be seen with me?"

"I wasn't
thinking of myself."

He smiled.
"I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you."

The gates were
swinging open when they reached them, and Mark drove straight
through, stopping briefly to check that the road was clear before
pulling onto it. Camera flashes lit the car with brilliant strobes,
and fingers tapped frantically on the windows before they were left
behind. Mark sighed and glanced at the smudges on the glass.

"Now you see
why John has so much polishing to do."

Mark gunned
the engine, and the sports car shot ahead, racing along the road.
Carrin glanced at the speedometer and got a shock. It didn't feel
like they were going that fast, the car sat on the corners as if it
was on rails. The steady growl from behind the seat was audible
over the music’s soft beat, but it did not bother her. Carrin had
always liked sports cars, and sat back to enjoy the ride. Mark
glanced at her several times, one brow raised. If he expected her
to hang onto the seat with her fingernails, he was disappointed. It
was not until he turned the car onto a highway that Carrin realised
that they were not going to her hotel.

"Where are you
taking me?"

"To a quiet
spot in the woods, where I can have my way with you."

She glanced at
him, then laughed. "A likely story."

"At least you
don't think I'm that bad."

"The woods
would be far too uncomfortable for you."

He smiled,
watching the road ahead. "I just thought it would be nice to go for
a drive."

Carrin nodded,
and they drove in silence for a while, listening to the music and
the steady drone of the engine. It certainly was pleasant, racing
along the highway in this sleek black monster of a car. Twice,
other sports cars buzzed them, pulling alongside and then shooting
away as if to challenge Mark to a race. He ignored them, showing
his maturity. He turned off the highway with a flick of the wheel
and headed onto a narrow, winding road that soon became edged with
woodland.

The trees
flicked past, growing denser and wilder as they climbed into a
cool, hilly forest. The road seemed deserted, for they passed no
other cars. After a while, Mark pulled into a lay-by, where he
stopped and switched off the engine. Immediately Carrin found the
car's close confines far too intimate. Mark leant on the steering
wheel, gazing out at the scenery, but his proximity was unnerving.
The seat belt trapped her, and she released it.

"Where are you
going?" Mark asked.

"Out to
stretch my legs and enjoy the air." She opened the door.

"Good idea."
He agreed, sliding out of the car too.

Carrin
breathed deep a lungful of crisp, pine-scented air, and Mark sat on
the low sloping bonnet. He patted the gleaming metal beside
him.

"Sit. We might
as well give John some more polishing to do."

She smiled and
sat. "Poor John."

"He loves
it."

"How would you
know? You've probably never polished a car in your life. It's hard
work, you know."

"Actually, I
often help him, and I enjoy it too."

Carrin stared
at him and pulled a disbelieving face. Mark turned to her, placing
a foot on the bumper with calm disregard for the possibility of
scratching it.

"You seem to
have the wrong idea about me," he said. "I'm not some stuck up
millionaire playboy who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
My parents abandoned me, and I was raised in an orphanage. I've
known hard work and hunger. I know what it's like to scrub floors
on my knees in the middle of winter, to be sent to bed hungry for
being naughty, and whipped with a cane. I haven't forgotten. When I
left the orphanage, I was on my own, no one to turn to, no family.
I starved on the streets until I was able to get a job in a
factory." He glanced at her. "I'm not trying to make you feel sorry
for me, just to show you that I'm a regular guy, nothing special. I
worked hard to get where I am."

Carrin stared at his profile as he gazed into the woods,
deep in thought. Nothing special? How ridiculous. Then it struck
her. Of course, he was trying to soften her up. The orphanage part
was true; Olivia had told her that, but the rest? Scrubbing floors
in winter? Whipped? Starved? They didn't do that in orphanages
anymore. That was something from the dark ages. Just as she had
been starting to enjoy his company, he had spoilt it.
She rose and walked
to the edge of the forest, standing with her back to
him.