'Christopher—'
'I never can resist a challenge,' he cut smoothly across Merlyn's warning, slapping the empty coffee-cup back into her hands. 'See you later.'
Merlyn watched in dismay as Christopher tersely dismissed the man Liza was talking to, speaking softly to the other woman before she shruggingly accompanied him back to the hotel. Merlyn smiled as she too turned to leave; she knew Liza better than Christopher did, and her friend wasn't easily impressed.
'Didn't he believe you last night?'
She stiffened at the sound of that mocking voice, resignedly turning to look at Mark. His hair had been styled to look more like Rand's had three years ago, shorter than Mark usually wore it, the three-piece suit and snowy-white shirt donned for the role he played too, as the scene with Suzie out in the lake ended with her pained gaze focusing on her husband as he stood watching her from the shore. Despite the changes in his appearance, Mark was unmistakably Mark, and Merlyn knew it had been the identity of the man playing Rand that had resulted in her unusually stilted acting today.
She gave a weary sigh as she looked at him. 'It's been a long day, Mark, and I'm not in the mood for your innuendoes,' she stated flatly.
His handsome mouth twisted derisively. 'Drake appears to have lost interest in you— already.'
She drew in a deep breath. 'Christopher was never "interested" in me,' she scorned. 'So if you thought that little scene you created last night would cause trouble for me you were mistaken.'
'I think you underestimate your own attraction,' he drawled, his gaze moving over her insolently.
'And I think you overestimate yours!'
'If you get lonely in your big bed, just give me a call,' he sneered. 'I might be able to find you the odd free night.'
'You can—' She broke off, looking at him questioningly. 'How do you know I have a big bed in my room?' she asked sharply.
Mark looked taken aback at the question. 'All the rooms have double beds—'
'No, they don't.' She shook her head, unable to stop the trembling that suddenly racked her body.
'Well mine does,' he dismissed tersely. 'And I just assumed yours did too. Good God, Merlyn, it was only a casual remark, there's no need to make a scene about it.' He glanced about them awkwardly, although most of the crew had gone back to the hotel by now, glad to get in out of the cold.
'Someone was creeping about outside my room last night, and—'
'Well, it wasn't me,' Mark cried in disgust. 'I have better things to do with my time than try to get a glimpse of your unimpressive body through your bedroom window—'
'How did you know they were outside my window?' she pounced, her eyes wide. 'I only said they were outside my room!'
Mark gave her a pitying glance. 'Well, whoever it was could hardly expect to see you through a closed door,' he mocked. 'Lighten up, Merlyn. You probably imagined the whole thing.'
'No—no, I didn't.' She shuddered at the memory of how frightened she had been.
'Well, it wasn't me,' he said again more firmly. 'I happen to have been in a certain young lady's bedroom all night—'
'Which young lady?' Merlyn demanded to know.
He frowned. 'I'm not going to tell you that,' he dismissed irritably. 'It's none of your damned business who I go to bed with.'
'Then you can't prove where you were last night,' Merlyn challenged triumphantly, sure she had solved the mystery of who had been outside her room last night. Mark had said he had never forgiven her for the fact that she had lost him that film role six years ago, and he was vindictive enough to enjoy half frightening her to death.
'I don't have to.' He slowly shook his head, looking at her frowningly. 'Merlyn, I know we had our differences in the past, but— Are you sure you haven't been imagining things?'
She flushed at his almost condescending tone; he made her sound as if she were some hysterical female on the verge of a nervous breakdown. 'No, I'm not imagining things,' she snapped. 'There was someone outside my room last night.'
Mark shrugged. 'Then I suggest you look elsewhere for your peeping Tom,' he mocked. 'My nights are much too busy to be spent hoping for a glimpse of your body.' His gaze raked over her insolently again. 'It just isn't that unique,' he drawled before striding off.
God, was he right, was she becoming paranoid?
Maybe if it had been the first time something like that had happened to her she could have taken it in her stride, but it was the memory of that vivid dream she wasn't sure was a dream the last time she stayed here that haunted her. What if the man had been real then too, and last night he had come back to sneak into her bed again?
She had to be with Rand, he was the only one who made her feel safe.
CHAPTER NINE
By the time she had showered and changed, her feelings of fear down by the lake seemed fanciful even in her emotional state. Of course she wasn't only safe when she was with Rand, no one was trying to hurt her, just frighten her a little. And despite what he said she still hadn't discounted Mark as the culprit; she knew only too well that he was capable of anything.
But she wasn't going to dwell on that any more, had her evening with Rand to look forward to. Besides, she was too tired after the long day she had just spent to think about it any more.
'Goodness, you look worn.' Anne frowned her concern when Merlyn opened the door to her knock.
'The same can't be said of you; you're glowing!' She invited the other woman in by stepping back and opening the door wider.
Anne grinned. 'No morning sickness either; I'm expecting to come down with a bang pretty soon!'
'I don't see why you should, my mother said the only thing that made her pregnancy bearable when she was carrying me was that she wasn't sick at all,' she smiled.
'Suzie was really sick with hers, although we all thought—' Anne broke off, stricken by what she had unthinkingly revealed. 'I don't suppose you can forget I said that?' she groaned.
Merlyn moistened her lips, swallowing hard. 'But Suzie never had a baby…' she croaked, stunned by what Anne had just said.
'No,' Suzie's sister acknowledged heavily. 'I told you there were some things in the last few years of Brandon's marriage to Suzie that I omitted from the book; that was one of them. I only wanted my book to encourage other people who were diagnosed as terminally ill not to give up, not make Brandon suffer. He's already suffered enough.'
'Suzie lost the baby?' Merlyn's breathing was shallow.
'Yes,' Anne nodded abruptly.
'Oh God.' She groaned at the cruelty that had taken that other life from Rand. A child could have been the one thing to help him after Suzie's death, and she had blithely told him how her own parents had blamed each other for her existence before sending her father off to be sterilised so that the mistake shouldn't happen again! No wonder he had needed another drink after she had told him that; he had lost his chance to become a father.
'Merlyn?' Anne frowned worriedly at how pale she had become.
'Sorry.' She attempted to shake off the shock she had just received. 'It was—a surprise.'
'Yes,' Anne acknowledged levelly. 'Now you know why I was so worried about Brandon's behaviour last night,' she sighed.
With good reason. At the beginning of the evening Rand had been like the man she first met; full of bitterness. As he had been yesterday afternoon when he came to her room and demanded to take her so savagely…
'Anne,' she spoke shakily. 'When did you tell Rand about your baby?' She swallowed hard.
The other woman sighed again. 'Well, just announcing it at the party last night seemed too callous a thing to do so I invited him over for lunch yesterday. He—took it quite calmly at the time.'
Too calmly! He had come to her room after Anne told him about her baby with the intention of hurting someone as badly as he was hurting. And she could never tell him that she understood the pain that had driven him that day because she could never tell him she knew about the baby he had lost, his and Suzie's baby…
'I'll never t
ell anyone what you've just told me.' She squeezed Anne's arm reassuringly. 'As you said, some things belong only to them.'
Anne nodded. 'You're very fond of Brandon, aren't you?' she probed gently.
Delicate colour brightened Merlyn's cheeks. 'I—barely know him,' she answered truthfully, realising how little she really did know him—or the demons that drove him.
'He told me there was someone outside your room last night,' Anne said slowly. 'Late last night.'
The colour deepened in Merlyn's cheeks. 'He —he walked me back to my room—'
'Merlyn,' the other woman cut in chidingly. 'Brandon is a very attractive man, only thirty-nine, and he deserves to make a new life for himself if he can. Besides,' she added with a smile, 'James and I like you so much.'
She sighed. 'It would be pointless to deny that I'm seeing Rand, but I really don't think you should make too much of it. We're just two consenting adults who are attracted to each other.'
God, she sounded like one of those bed-hopping women that she despised who explained away their behaviour with words like 'consenting adult' and 'mutual attraction'. She wasn't a prude, and she realised soon after her break-up with Mark that if she had really loved him she would have let him make love to her, would have wanted to make love to him too, that if there had been any other man since then that she had really cared about she wouldn't have hesitated to go to bed with him. She just couldn't stand it when people explained away their sexual promiscuity as experimentation for that 'one perfect relationship'. Half of them didn't recognise it when it did come along because they were too busy 'experimenting'!
'Brandon likes you very much.' Anne touched Merlyn's arm reassuringly. 'You're the first woman he's shown an interest in since—well, since—'
'Since Suzie,' finished Merlyn softly. 'I know that. It's a big responsibility.'
Anne nodded understandingly. 'But he's already changed a little since you came here, taking an interest in his businesses again, shaving off that dreadful beard.'
'I quite liked it,' she said lightly, glad that Anne had taken her relationship with Rand so well. It could have been very awkward for all of them if she hadn't.
Anne gave her a sceptical look. 'It was awful!' she grimaced. 'Anyway, I didn't come over here to probe into your relationship with Brandon—'
'Or to tell me things I didn't hear.' Merlyn once again assured her of her confidence being kept strictly between the two of them.
'No, I actually came to tell you that the police have been informed about the prowler last night—'
'Do you really think that's necessary?' She frowned her surprise.
'Brandon does,' Anne told her as if that said everything—and perhaps it did; he could be a very forceful man. 'About this other business—I'm not usually so careless. I think it's just that you've become such a friend these last few weeks that I forgot you didn't know.'
'It didn't become public at the time?' she asked slowly.
'Oh no.' The other woman shook her head. 'Suzie was only a few weeks pregnant when they—when they discovered her illness. I think it was finding out about that that brought on the miscarriage.'
Poor Rand, being dealt two such tragic blows in one go. No wonder he was so bitter. And no wonder he was determined never to love again, to take only the physical gratification of the moment that Merlyn could give him. She couldn't expect any more from a man who had lost so much.
'Just care for him, Merlyn.' Anne seemed to sense her despair. 'He has so much love to give.'
Learning of the child Suzie had been going to give him changed their relationship yet again, Merlyn realised after Anne had left. She understood what had brought him to her room the afternoon before, knew that it had been completely different from when he came to her last night. Last night he really had needed her, and not just to block out the unhappy memories Anne's pregnancy had given him.
It was something to build their relationship upon. She hoped.
'Coming over to dinner?' Liza invited when Merlyn answered the door to her.
'I thought you would be with our "pussycat" of a director,' she taunted.
Liza grinned as she strolled into the room, the bright orange dress she wore suiting her sunny personality. 'He really was a bastard to you today, wasn't he,' she dismissed.
'I think you're being over-generous, Liza,' she mocked. 'Am I to take it his mood will be improved tomorrow?' Merlyn raised questioning brows.
'Not because of anything I've done,' her friend shrugged, dropping down into an armchair.
'In that case, he'll probably be worse than today.' Merlyn's eyes rolled expressively.
'Never mind, he'll have someone else to vent his anger on then. He's concentrating on that scene with Mark in the gazebo, remember?' she prompted.
Merlyn remembered. The 'scene' with Mark was one of those purely fictional ones that had been put in to provide the 'romance' in the film, 'Suzie and Brandon' making love in the glass and pine gazebo beside the lake after Suzie stepped out of the boat.
Anne had actually written that Rand had been at the doctor's office with Suzie when she got the results of her tests, so it was ludicrous to assume the couple had made violent love in the gazebo after Suzie had told him of her illness herself. But film directors, and certainly film companies, didn't particularly care for the accuracy of those minor facts as long as the story was fast-paced and moving. They also seemed to think that a little sex thrown in for good measure never did anyone any harm.
Merlyn had known the scene was scheduled for tomorrow, and was dreading having to do it with Mark, of all people.
'Did I say the wrong thing?' Liza grimaced as she saw her expression.
'Yes,' Merlyn sighed. 'What do you think about Mark Hillier?'
Liza grimaced. 'I haven't seen him act yet.'
'I didn't mean from a professional point of view,' she replied dryly.
'He seems okay,' her friend shrugged. 'How do you feel about seeing your ex-fiancé again?'
Merlyn's eyes widened as she stared open-mouthed at Liza. 'How did you know that?'
'When we first met you were still very bitter about what he tried to do to you,' Liza reminded her. 'I'd never forget the name of a louse like that!'
Merlyn couldn't help laughing. 'You certainly see things in black and white!'
'A rat of the first degree,' Liza nodded. 'I certainly don't envy you out there in that draughty gazebo with him tomorrow,' she shivered.
She grimaced. 'It has to be warmer than the rowing-boat today.'
'Not without your clothes on!' Liza said expressively.
Merlyn's breath seemed forced from her body before she became completely still. 'What did you say?' she finally managed to croak.
'You can hardly make love with your clothes on, Merlyn,' her friend scorned.
'It's supposed to "fade off into the sunset" when they start to make love,' she bit out tautly.
'Well I don't know,' Liza shrugged dismissively. 'Why ask me? I just know that Christopher was talking of restricting the crew to the minimum to save you and Mark any embarrassment.'
'He has to be joking,' Merlyn said through gritted teeth.
'I somehow don't think Christopher ever jokes about his work,' Liza grimaced.
Neither did she, but if he thought she was going to be agreeable to any nude scenes— especially in an exposed gazebo with Mark Hillier —he was in for a disappointment!
Liza uncurled herself from the chair as she stood up. 'I've seen that look on your face before, and I don't want to be anywhere within range when the sparks start to fly!'
'Where is Christopher now?'
'Don't ask me, I dumped him after his first improper suggestion.' Liza's look spoke volumes. 'You could try his room. He was probably as cold as the rest of us earlier; as far as I know he's human!'
He was going to know he was very human by the time she finished telling him what she thought of his idea that she and Mark strip off in the gazebo!
He conveniently wa
sn't in his room when she rang, and he didn't answer the page she had the hotel receptionist put out for him either. Coward, she muttered to herself. He had to know Liza would tell her about his bright idea for tomorrow, just as he had to know how she would feel about it.
She felt completely depressed when she rang The Forresters and the housekeeper told her Rand wasn't home yet.
'As soon as he comes in could you tell him I called?' she requested heavily.
'I'm just on my way home now; you only just caught me as I was going out the door.' The woman managed to convey her disapproval of that fact even down the telephone line. 'But I can leave your message on the pad here for him to read. With the others.'
What others, Merlyn wanted to demand, but knew she wouldn't get an answer. Being the last on a list of other messages, some of them perhaps from other women, one of them maybe even from the lovely Deborah, didn't please her one bit. But there wasn't much she could do about it.
An hour later Rand still hadn't arrived or returned her call, and so she tried the house once again. This time not even the disapproving housekeeper answered her call.
Where was he? Anne said he had taken up the reins of his businesses once again; did that mean he had gone to London? Tired of the confines of her room she headed towards the lake. The gazebo stood across from the hotel like a mockery to her anger.
It was a beautiful structure, pine like the hotel, with windows taking up the top half of the walls of the rounded construction. Inside it was like a one-room cottage, with a pine floor partly covered by a couple of scatter rugs, and a sofa and chair to sit on as you gazed out at the pine-covered mountains beyond the hotel.
Merlyn deliberately avoided the building, walking along the jetty to the small landing area that the family used to moor their boats.
It was so still and peaceful after the day's hectic activity, and she took a moment to drink in the tranquillity.
A board cracked beneath her foot with a suddenness that sent her tumbling through the air, the coldness of the water closing over her. She felt as if she took half the lake into her lungs as she went deeper and deeper under the water, blackness and an ominous rushing sound surrounding her.
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