Superstar (32 page)

"How often
does that line work?"

There was a
long silence behind her, but she refused to look around. At last he
said, "I've never told anyone that before."

She gave a
disbelieving snort. "I'm not as gullible as I look."

He sighed.
"What will it take to make you believe me? Will you at least tell
me that?"

She turned. "I
don't know. Maybe nothing. Why can't you just give up? Why can't
you let me be the one that got away and chalk it up to
experience?"

"Because
you're the one I can't allow to get away. You're the one I've been
looking for ever since I started going out with girls."

His words
wounded her, and she looked away. Such sweet lies! Where did he
come up with this stuff? She wondered if the words were from some
romantic movie that he had done, or seen. They did sound a little
rehearsed. The great Mark Lord was slipping; he would not win an
award for that delivery.

"Did you tell
Helen that too?"

His soft
chuckle startled her. "Oh, this could be fun if it wasn't so damn
sad. We could invent a new game; suspicious minds. Try and guess
when the other is telling a lie, always accuse them of telling
lies, and when they deny it, tell them to prove it. The one doing
the accusing will always win, because some things are so very hard
to prove."

Carrin
stiffened as his footsteps approached. He came up behind her and
slid his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him. As if
sensing her tension, he leant forward to press his cheek against
hers. His closeness was like a drug that swept her into a storm of
sensations. Warm, wonderful feelings coursed through her, making
her want to turn and put her arms around him, but she forced
herself to stand still. His seductive voice spoke in her ear,
sending shivers through her.

"Why do you
have to be a rock in the stream of life? Why don't you let yourself
be carried away, enjoy what's offered, and feast on life's wonders
and joys. Why do you deny yourself that?"

She could not
think of a suitable answer, her mind spun at his proximity. His
gentle touch and words were almost more than she could bear, and
she clung to her resolve only by reminding herself of his ability
to charm and seduce with pretty lies and soft words. He held her
for a long time, his cheek pressed to hers. At last, he released
her and stepped in front of her, taking her hands. Standing
slightly down slope, his eyes were level with hers.

"You're not
going to answer me, are you? You're not going to tell me what deep
dark secret makes you think everything I say is a lie. You're going
to keep torturing me with this friendship shit until I find out
what it is you're hiding. You're not being very fair, are you? If
you told me what I was doing wrong, I could fix it, but instead I
have to guess."

He
raised her hands and kissed each one, sending shivers through her.
Releasing one, he stroked her cheek with gentle fingers. "At least
you don't think I'm a woman-beater anymore. That's a step in the
right direction. Now you just think I'm a lying
bastard."

He cupped her
chin and gazed into her eyes. "I feel as if I'm playing with fire,
you know that? I've never felt so nervous in all my life."

Carrin returned his gaze, her eyes flat. There was a little
chant going on in her mind;
he's lying, he's lying, he's lying,
and it kept her
sane, stopped her from flinging her arms around him and telling him
how much she loved him.

Mark
hesitated, then released her chin and tapped his finger on her
nose. "Don't slap me."

Sliding his
hand around the back of her neck, he leant forward slowly, his eyes
on her mouth. Carrin knew that she should pull away, turn her head
or something. She was frozen, completely under his spell. Warmth
ran through her like fire in her blood, and she closed her eyes as
she surrendered to the inevitable, for she had no defence against
him. His lips touched her cheek in a feather light caress, then he
was gone, and she opened her eyes in surprise.

Mark strode
back to the car, where he turned and addressed the forest, raising
his arms in an expansive gesture.

"She thought I
was going to kiss her! I bet she thought I was going to seduce her,
too!" He wagged a finger at her, his crooked smile revealing a
glimpse of even white teeth. "I'm not going to." He shook his head.
"Because that's not what I want from you. Seducing you would be
easy, I just proved that. But I don't want some cheap little
affair, I want the real thing. And I'm going to get it, too. You
can fight me all you want, call me a liar, it doesn't matter. I'm
not going to let you slip away."

For a moment
his words stopped her heart, and she wanted to blurt the truth,
then common sense prevailed. He was not to be believed; his words
were sweet but false, and he was far too perceptive. She scowled
and marched to the car.

"You
prick."

He looked
surprised, and backed away. "What? You wanted to be seduced? I
thought you just wanted to be friends?"

"Don't try and
turn the tables on me. This isn't one of your silly games you play
with girls. If you think I'm just playing hard to get, you're
wrong!" The emotional roller coaster she was on took a dive, and
her throat closed, forcing her to swallow hard. "There won't be any
cheap little affair. Not because you want the real thing, but
because I won't be another of your conquests." She was almost
toe-to-toe with him now, and her voice rose. "I know you're not
looking for another notch on your bedpost -"

"Oh, you do,
do you?"

"-
Because you got tired of those years ago, and if there were any
more notches your whole damn bed would be match wood! Now you break
hearts, like Helen, and Jenna, probably Janice too! Helen was right
about you, and I've seen for myself what you did to her. You want
to hear those magic words, and you'll do anything to achieve that.
Then you get bored with your new toy and toss it aside to find
another. But let me tell you something, those words don't mean a
damn thing when they're a lie!"

He stared at
her, the amusement and teasing gone from his expression. "And how
do you know when they're a lie?"

Carrin, who
had opened her mouth to continue her tirade, stopped dead, unable
to answer that simple question. She spluttered, shaking her head.
"Coming from you, they would be, because you're not capable of
loving anyone."

"Oh? Helen
told you that too, I suppose? Why is it that you believe her but
not me?"

"She has no
reason to lie."

He gave a bark
of mirthless laughter. "Oh, come on! She has every reason to, the
same reason she tricked you."

Carrin could
only shake her head again. Mark opened the car door and leant on
it, one foot in the car. "Do you know how many times I've said
those words?"

She shrugged.
"Hundreds, I'm sure."

"Never. Not to
anyone." He paused. "Not even you."

The truth of
his last words stumped her, and she looked away, unable to meet his
accusing gaze. He leant a little closer.

"Don't you
think, if I was really trying to fool you, I'd have used them by
now?"

Mark got into
the car and slammed the door, shutting her out. She marched around
it and climbed into the passenger seat. Mark started the engine
with a roar, not looking at her. He looked angry, his brows drawn
together. He had won the verbal battle, yet he did not seem happy.
He revved the engine and let out the clutch, spinning the wheels.
They shot away down the road, leaving behind a cloud of blue smoke.
Carrin sat back and tried to relax, but Mark drove much too fast on
the narrow, twisty road, his face grim. When the tyres started to
squeal on every corner, she could keep silent no longer.

"Slow
down."

Mark changed
down savagely for a corner, and the engine's howl rose to a scream.
The back wheels locked up, and the car slid sideways slightly
before regaining traction with a jerk. Had it not been for the
superb handling of the hi-tech machine, they would have been in the
trees long ago. Carrin's stomach tried to crawl into her mouth, and
she swallowed hard.

"For god's
sake, getting us killed isn't going to solve anything."

He slammed on
the brakes, and the car came to a shuddering stop in a cloud of
smoke. Her seat belt prevented Carrin from going through the
windscreen.

Mark turned to
her. "Scared?"

She
nodded.

"Now you know
how I feel all the time."

"Why?"

"Of losing
you."

Carrin gaped
at him. If this was an act, it was his best yet. She turned away to
stare out of the window. Mark pulled up the handbrake and got out,
and she watched him walk around to her door and open it. Was he
going to drag her out and leave her on the side of the road?

"You drive,"
he said.

Again she
gaped at him, astounded. He took her hand and pulled her from the
car. On shaking legs, she walked around and climbed into the
driver's seat. Mark settled in the passenger seat and watched her.
After testing the feel of the gears and clutch, she let off the
brake and pulled back onto the road. The slightest touch of her
foot on the accelerator sent them surging ahead, and she had to
learn to press it gently. Only when they reached the highway did
she realise that she was driving on the wrong side of the road.

Mark
reached over and steered them back onto the correct side. In the
city, she grew nervous, unused to the road signs and driving on the
other side of the road. Several times she strayed, and Mark steered
them back. Soon the mishaps became funny, and she smiled. She was
glad when they arrived at her hotel, and glanced across at him, her
smile fading. He looked grim all of a sudden and climbed out. The
doorman opened her door, and Mark didn't look at her as he slid
into the driver's seat, only glancing up when he had started the
engine.

"See you."

She nodded,
and he closed the door, pulling off with a roar.

Carrin went up
to her room, her mind in a whirl of fresh dilemmas. Was he acting?
Was he genuine? If it was an act, it was a very good one,
unbelievably good. Should she believe him and if she did, what
would the result be? He spoke about not wanting a cheap affair, but
the real thing, only what was the real thing to him? There were so
many questions, and no answers.

Remembering
his performance with Helen, she still suspected that he was acting,
yet he had seemed so genuine in the car. Was he really that good?
Probably, a sceptical voice inside her said. The fact that he
thought she had feelings for him encouraged him, and that was bad.
What should she do? What would be his next move? She wanted to
believe him so desperately, maybe she was fooling herself?
Eventually, to get some sleep, she decided to wait and see what
happened next.

The next day
was Sunday, and she spent it relaxing. On Monday, she returned to
the location with Mark, who arrived in his limousine to collect
her. He was quiet and withdrawn, looked at her a little sadly and
spent most of the trip staring out of the window. John's eyes in
the rear view mirror were worried, and she wondered what was going
on now.

At the
location, Mark was whisked away to make up, and she only saw him
from a distance for the rest of the day. He completed his final
scene with Janice, and the desert filming was done. Harold re-shot
some unsatisfactory scenes that were set in the desert, then
everything was packed onto the trucks to return to the city. The
next part of the filming was to be shot in an abandoned section of
the city, and the location was moved there.

By that
time, it was Friday again, and she had hardly seen Mark, he was so
busy. When she did, he gave her a gentle, sad smile filled with
affection, which made her catch her breath and look away. His
latest ploy was the most devastating of all, apparently designed to
make her feel guilty for her cold-heartedness. Other members of the
crew picked up the feelings from Mark, and she got many puzzled or
even hostile looks. Harold and Warren watched them. By the
afternoon, she just wanted to escape the location with its
undercurrents, tired of feeling like she had done something
wrong.

That evening,
she received an invitation to a party at Simon's house. She
considered not going, but she needed to have some fun after the
week of gloom, and there would be no press, so Mark could not
accuse her of going out with Simon. He would probably be there
anyway, a prospect that frightened and excited her. She selected a
figure-hugging dress of cool, pale aquamarine with panels of white
lace in the skirt and donned a pair of strappy white high-heeled
evening shoes, then spent half an hour in front of the mirror. The
result was not as dramatic as Anne's transformation, but it was
good. A slim gold chain and stud earrings completed the outfit, and
she was ready. Simon's maroon limousine arrived to collect her at
seven. It already contained four other guests, none of whom she
knew. Champagne was served in the car, and the people were as
bubbly as the wine. By the time she arrived at the party, she was
considerably more cheerful.

Guests
filled the house. Young couples giggled, and staid older actors
stalked the rooms in search of admirers. Music pumped from a sound
system that seemed to incorporate the entire mansion, and by the
pool, lanterns lit the scene, strung overhead and floating in the
water. She wandered through the house in search of someone she
knew, and spotted Jenna clinging to the arm of an actor whom she
recognised as Malcolm Monte. Simon danced with Janice in the
lounge. A stranger tried to drag her onto the dance floor, but she
shook them off and made her escape. She found Mark in a quieter
room with a piano and a polished dining table. He was deep in a
conversation with a greying actor, and four simpering starlets
surrounded him, none of whom had the courage to cling to him, but
stood around waiting for him to notice them.