But for all that it was a pleasant evening, Rand easily accepted by everyone as they went through to the bar, showing none of that arrogant reserve Merlyn had always associated with him as he chatted and joked with a couple of other men, Greg included.
'Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous,' Liza said in an aside as Rand gave a rich, throaty chuckle.
'You've already said that,' Merlyn reminded her dryly.
'But now I know he's all-through gorgeous. Not all good-looking men are, you know.'
'You don't say!' she replied. Liza's forthright attitude and easy-going manner always had a way of putting things back in perspective. So Mark was still bitter and angry with her about the past, there was nothing he could really do to hurt her, not if she didn't let him.
Liza grimaced. 'From what Rand said about that call, I gather Mark was being his usual nasty self yesterday?'
And he had almost succeeded in breaking her and Rand up. 'Yes,' she answered with feeling.
'Don't worry, Rand will take care of you from now on,' her friend told her confidently. 'Uh oh.' She raised her brows. 'Here comes our tyrant of a director.' She nodded in the direction of the main doorway, Christopher just entering as she did so. 'I haven't forgiven him for making me get back up on that brute of a horse yet,' she said disgustedly.
Merlyn was glad Christopher had put in an appearance this evening; she owed him a debt of gratitude.
'It was myself I was thinking of,' he brusquely dismissed her sincere thanks after she had crossed the room to speak to him privately before he joined the others. 'I thought over what you said and decided things would be less awkward here for all of us if you and Carmichael were friends again.'
'Cynic!' She gave a wry shake of her head as he confirmed what she had already guessed; nothing must be allowed to interrupt or disturb his picture.
'It worked, didn't it?' He looked pointedly in Rand's direction.
Rand was watching them in return, his expression bland, although his eyes were questioning.
'I know that look,' Christopher groaned. 'Get back to his side before he thinks I'm after you!'
'Coward,' she laughed softly.
'Survivor,' he corrected mockingly. 'From all accounts Carmichael is a possessive bastard.'
Rand hated possessiveness, had reacted violently when he thought she was acting jealously over his time in London. 'I think you have the wrong man, Christopher.' She shook her head.
'You do?' he smiled wryly. 'Then why is he forging a path to your side even as we speak?' He laughed as her eyes widened in surprise on Rand as he purposefully made his way to where they stood talking together, occasionally stopping to talk to someone, but coming over to them none the less. 'A word of warning, Merlyn, the dark brooding ones are always the worst,' Christopher had time to mutter before Rand reached them, his arm moving about Merlyn's waist.
'Drake,' he greeted the man abruptly. 'I think you now have an unhappy actor,' he drawled.
Christopher grimaced. 'What's new?' His reply lacked concern. 'No permanent damage, I hope?' he asked interestedly.
Rand's mouth quirked. 'Only to his ego.'
'That could stand a few beatings,' Christopher scorned. 'As long as you haven't marked his face!'
Rand glanced at Merlyn, her face pale. 'We were just about to leave,' he murmured.
'Don't let me keep you,' Christopher said cheerfully. 'I intend sending this lot off to bed now anyway!'
It had been a strained evening for Merlyn, and she breathed deeply of the fresh air once they were outside and away from the smoky bar.
'I'm sorry,' Rand watched her anxiously. 'Maybe I shouldn't have put you through that, but I felt it was important that Hillier see he had done no lasting damage with his lies.'
'It was,' she agreed abruptly.
Rand still watched her. 'Let's go back to the house for a nightcap.'
She raised startled eyes to meet his. 'You mean your house?'
His brows rose. 'Unless you happen to have one around here I know nothing about?'
She hadn't thought she would ever go inside the house again that he had shared with Suzie all those years, had certainly never expected to be an invited guest there. 'Maybe a coffee?' she said uncertainly.
'Fine.' He led her over to the dark grey BMW he drove, unlocking the door for her.
Merlyn was a little apprehensive as they entered the house, following Rand through to the kitchen, automatically moving to the appropriate cupboards to help him prepare the coffee before she realised what she was doing, coming to an abrupt halt.
Rand sighed heavily. 'I was very rough on you the last time you were here, wasn't I?'
'Yes,' she confirmed without hesitation.
He put his arms about her as he leant back against a kitchen unit, Merlyn's body resting lightly against his thighs. 'That day, the anniversary of Suzie's death, is—well, it's a nightmare.' Rand closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. 'I gave all the servants the day off, intended spending the day with a bottle of brandy, hoping I wouldn't feel any of the pain once I was drunk.'
'And then I arrived,' Merlyn put in huskily.
He gave a ragged sigh. 'And then you arrived,' he nodded. 'And the getting drunk theory went out of the window. I was a bastard to you but it helped me get through the day at least. It was the night I couldn't cope with,' he remembered harshly. 'And then you helped me live through that too!'
'And tonight you helped me,' she told him shakily. 'Like Christopher, you must be wondering what I ever saw in Mark, but he can be very charming when things are going his way.'
'And when they aren't?' Rand watched her with narrowed eyes.
She winced at the memory. 'Then he isn't charming at all!'
'Will you tell me about it?'
Rand's intimidation of Mark earlier had been obvious to everyone present, and she didn't think he was the type of man—no, she knew he wasn't the type of man to hold back when he heard of another man using violence against a woman.
'No, I don't think so,' she refused lightly, peering over his shoulder at the newly percolated coffee. 'I will have a cup of coffee, though.'
'Subject of Mark Hillier closed?'
'The coffee smells delicious.'
'Okay, subject closed.' Rand gave a shrug before moving away from her. 'But if he bothers you again… 'he added pointedly.
'He won't,' she assured him with more confidence than real honesty; Mark had left her alone six years ago because he knew there was nothing else he could do to her, but now she was more vulnerable. And from the sceptical look in Rand's eyes before he carried the coffee-tray through to the lounge, he didn't believe her assurances for one minute anyway.
But as she sat beside Rand on the sofa, a fire newly blazing in the dimly lit room, in a rare moment of tranquillity, she put everything else from her mind except the sheer joy of being with him. Earlier this evening she had believed this closeness between them again would be impossible.
'Are you staying with me tonight?' he spoke huskily against her temple.
'Here?' Her voice was gruff, the invitation so much more than she had expected.
'I'd like to just lie in bed and hold you,' he clarified the invitation. 'No demands, just hold you.'
From the moment they had met they had either been hating each other or making love, and what he offered now sounded wonderful. She didn't know if he realised it, but it was also a tangible step forward in their relationship.
Her eyes glowed as she turned to look at him. 'I'd like that,' she told him throatily, her hand slipping into his much larger one as they stood up to ascend the stairs together.
CHAPTER TWELVE
'So I was wrong about it being Drake you slept with to get this part, it was Carmichael,' Mark scorned with contempt. 'I have to hand it to you, Merlyn, you went right to the top this time.'
Merlyn closed her eyes momentarily as she gave an inward groan. She had successfully managed to avoid Mark the last three days— Christopher, whether by desi
gn or necessity, having kept their filming schedules separate. It had been too good to last, she realised that.
They all had the day off today, the rain once again pouring down outside, although many of the crew had still taken advantage of the freedom to go out and see some of the surrounding countryside. Merlyn had preferred to lounge by the pool. Although if she had realised Mark had the same intention she would have revised her plans.
'I suppose it's too much to hope this conversation could actually develop into something pleasant?' she said dryly, looking up from her relaxed position on the lounger beside the pool with jaundiced eyes, feeling better than she had for a long time, even her hair temporarily back to its original colour, her bikini the perfect green of her eyes, intentionally so.
He gave a mocking inclination of his head before sitting down on the lounger next to hers. 'Your boy-friend made a fool out of me the other night, and—'
'You've never needed any help in doing that, Mark,' she snapped.
His body was still wet from where he had swum the length of the pool in leisurely strokes twice before strolling over to join her. Probably someone had once told him how muscular he looked with water glistening on his bronzed skin. The fact that it was true didn't make him any less vain.
His mouth twisted at her mockery. 'You certainly outgrew that childish happy-ever-after theory with a vengeance!'
She looked at him warily. 'What do you mean by that?'
'Carmichael!'
She drew in an angry breath. 'If you have something to say, Mark, then just say it! I'm not in the mood for your innuendoes today.'
'Been spending a lot of time with Suzie Forrester's husband, haven't you?' he taunted.
It was true that she and Rand spent their evenings and nights together, but never again at the house. There he was Suzie's husband.
That one night they had stayed there together they had just held each other until they both fell asleep, and it had been enough. It had been better than enough. Until she woke up alone in the darkness to find Rand sitting in the bedroom chair just staring at her as she slept.
'What is it?' she called to him huskily, sitting up in alarm at how still he sat, fully clothed now, his expression unreadable.
He drew in a ragged breath. 'I can't sleep with another woman in the house I shared with Suzie,' he rasped.
She had closed her eyes on the pain she knew must be reflected in them, fighting for control before she got out of bed to go to him, kneeling at his feet, her elbows resting on his knees as she clasped his hands in hers. 'Then we won't sleep together here again,' she assured him gruffly.
And they hadn't, had spent their nights together in her hotel room. And each morning Rand left her bed to return to his house. Where he became Suzie's husband again.
They had never spoken of that night, and Merlyn had never told him that she knew exactly how he felt about his affair with her. But despite their physical closeness his marriage to Suzie now stood between them like a brick wall. And no matter how she wanted to knock that wall down she knew that she never would.
'She's dead, Mark,' Merlyn said flatly in response to his barb that penetrated more deeply than even he could guess.
'From what I've heard he wasn't much of a husband even before the accident.' His voice was scornful.
Merlyn gave him a sharp look. 'What are you implying now, Mark?' she demanded harshly. 'Another lie you hope will cause me pain?'
'Hey,' he derided mockingly. 'I don't spend my whole life thinking up ways to hurt you!'
'Just half of it!' she returned impatiently.
'Well, I didn't think this up. And I would have thought you would be pleased to hear that the wonderful Rand was reputed to be separated from his wife before she died.'
'That's a lie,' Merlyn gasped, shaking her head, tension in every inch of her body.
Mark's brows rose at her vehemence. 'You aren't pleased?' he drawled.
'Because it isn't true,' she bit out tautly. 'Rand loved his wife very much.'
'Then why did she leave him?' Mark challenged with triumph.
'She didn't—'
'She was in London when the accident happened, he was still up here—'
'Just because they didn't live in each other's pockets doesn't mean—'
'I meant she was staying in London at their apartment, that she had been for some time,' Mark insisted.
That information had been in the newspapers at the time of the accident, and a couple of the more lurid tabloids had even tried to make something out of it. But Rand had denied any estrangement between himself and Suzie, and she believed him. He had loved his wife; he still did!
'She left him, Merlyn,' Mark put in softly.
'How do you know that?' She wouldn't believe him.
He shrugged. 'You know what gossip is like in our business—or perhaps you don't. You're like those three wise monkeys, "see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil—" '
'Oh I see it.' She gave him a pointed look. 'But if you mean I don't care to hear malicious gossip about people who have probably only ever smiled at each other, you're right; I don't like to know about it.'
'Well, this isn't malicious gossip,' he said with satisfaction. 'I heard a rumour about it at the time, and when I spoke to one of the maids here—'
'Spoke to her?' Merlyn dismissed scathingly.
He shrugged. 'Can I help it if she's impressed by film stars?'
'Has she met any?' Merlyn returned caustically.
Anger flared in Mark's eyes. 'Very funny,' he declared with a noticeable lessening of his amusement at her expense. 'She told me that Suzie Forrester had left the area a week earlier, and no one knew when she was expected back!'
'Rand would have known—'
'Least of all Carmichael,' Mark continued. 'Ask him, Merlyn. You'll see.'
'No!'
'Why?' he taunted. 'Afraid I just might be telling the truth?'
She couldn't believe this, knew how Mark could lie just to hurt her. And yet something Anne had said the other day about 'leaving certain things that happened during the last years of Brandon's marriage to Suzie out of the book' kept coming back to her. And yet surely her sister leaving Rand couldn't have been one of those things? But she knew Anne subscribed to the theory that Rand was the one still alive, the one who could be hurt by certain things about his marriage to Suzie being revealed; was Suzie's leaving him only a week before her death one of them?
'I am, you know,' Mark encouraged softly as he sensed her uncertainty.
'But what possible reason would she have—Oh, it's too ridiculous to even think about,' she dismissed impatiently, shaking her head with disgust for even listening to such a lie.
'Is it?' Mark kept up his taunts.
'Of course it is,' she snapped.
He shrugged. 'This maid seems to think Suzie Forrester only stayed with her husband because she was so ill, that once she was cured she left him.'
'This maid sounds like she tells a very good fairy-story,' Merlyn scorned with finality.
'If she is telling the truth the film that we're making is a farce!'
'In that case you would no longer be needed, would you?' she returned forcefully.
A flush darkened his cheeks. 'If you can't stand to hear the truth…' He stood up. 'Enjoy your book,' he added mockingly before diving back into the warmth of the water.
The book she had been reading lay untouched across her bare waist as she tried to calm her chaotic thoughts. She was only partially successful.
Rand had lived like a virtual recluse since Suzie died. And he had told her himself that Anne's book was incomplete, that Suzie's notebooks hadn't told the whole picture. One thing she could be sure of, Rand had said that both he and Suzie were faithful during their marriage, and she believed him; if Suzie had left him it hadn't been for another man or because he was having an affair.
'You're giving the place a bad name,' James chided lightly as he joined her.
She forced a smile. 'I am?'
She grimaced. 'And goodness knows I can't afford to get any more of those!'
He grinned, those deep brown eyes as warm as usual. 'I wouldn't have minded meeting you BA.'
'BA?' she echoed curiously.
'Before Anne,' he said dryly. 'Since I met her other women have lost their appeal.'
Merlyn laughed softly. 'I think that's the way it's supposed to be.'
'Mm.' He stretched out in total relaxation. 'I was a confirmed bachelor until five years ago; I never realised marriage could be this good.'
It was a perfect opening, one she might never have again, and yet she was loath to take it. Anne and James had both been so kind to her, it wasn't fair to use that friendship to gain information about Rand. And yet she was only human after all.
She moistened her lips, staring out across the pool. 'Was Rand's marriage to Suzie really as happy as it seemed to be?' She put the question as casually as she could, wondering if she only imagined the way James seemed to tense.
If he did he recovered quickly. 'Are you asking as the actress playing the part of Suzie and trying to get a deeper insight into the character—or as Brandon's lover?' He quirked dark brows. 'Don't worry,' he drawled at her embarrassment. 'I haven't been spying on the two of you or anything like that,' he assured her as she blushed. 'I've known from the very beginning.'
'What beginning?' she frowned, not sure she and Rand had ever had such a thing; they just seemed to have happened.
'Since you first called him Rand,' he told her quietly.
'But how?'
'It was Suzie's name for him when they were alone together, or occasionally in front of Anne and me,' he revealed huskily. 'I've never known anyone else but her to call him it.'
'But he asked me to call him that—' She swallowed hard. 'James, I don't understand!'
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