Superstar

by Southwell, T C

  "You do?"

  She nodded.

  He looked away. "Well, I'm glad you think so. But we're getting off the subject."

  "I like this subject."

  "I bet you do, because it's embarrassing. But I want to tell you -"

  Carrin shook her head. "I don't really want to hear it."

  "Because you don't believe it."

  "That's right. Until you can prove to me that you're really going to spend the rest of your life with me, I don't want to talk about what we want from life afterwards." The champagne still affected her, and she wanted to enjoy this magic without spoiling it with doubts. "How are you going to prove it?"

  "Well, that's the tricky bit. First we have to get married."

  Carrin's heart turned over, and a warm flood of joy rushed through her, tempered with a taint of disbelief and sadness. Such sweet lies, and so much magic. If only it was real. It seemed that he was prepared to go to any lengths to win her trust, and she wondered why. Had he made a million dollar bet with someone that he could make her fall in love with him? There seemed to be no other logical explanation, and she could just imagine him laughing triumphantly if she admitted her feelings for him.

  "A Hollywood marriage?"

  "Yes, of course it has to be, but not the sort you're thinking of."

  "Do we have to get married first?"

  He shook his head. "No, but I'd rather we did."

  She smelt a trap and jumped to her feet. "And then it will be too late, if you're lying to me."

  Carrin turned to leave, unable to stand anymore. His sweet lies and gentle manner were utterly disarming, and she was struggling not to fall into his trap. Mark jumped up and grabbed her wrist. Pulling her into his arms, he held her so tightly that she could hardly breathe. She could feel his heart pounding, and his breath warm on her neck as he buried his face in her short hair. Her attempts to struggle free were fruitless. His arms like steel bands, holding her gently but without giving an inch.

  He murmured into her ear, "Oh, god, Carrin, don't do this to me. Please, I'm begging you. Please trust me, just this once. Why would I want to marry you if I didn't love you? Why are you still so damned suspicious?" He held her away, locking eyes with her. "Tell me."

  It was too late now to prevaricate, she decided, it was time to lay all the cards on the table. Perhaps if he realised that his scheme was hopeless, he would stop.

  She said, "I overheard a conversation between you and Simon, the first week I was here. Simon told you not to toy with me, and you said that you had a use for me."

  He frowned. "A use for you? What the hell... wait a minute, I remember that." He smiled. "We weren't talking about you, Miss Big Ears. I was talking about Jenna. Simon took a shine to her, and he wanted her for himself. He knew that she didn't mean anything to me."

  "And what... use did you have for her?"

  "Window dressing. When I needed a date for an evening out, she made a pretty partner, that's all. Actors are expected to go out with supermodels and actresses, and I couldn't go to functions without a partner. After I talked to him, I decided to do as he asked. After all, I had an even lovelier potential partner living in my house. I asked Jenna to come and see me. She came late one night, when I was swimming."

  Carrin remembered that, and nodded.

  Mark continued, "She thought that she was finally going to get into my bed, but instead I told her that her services as my partner were no longer needed, and of course she clobbered me."

  "That's all she was to you? Someone to go out with?"

  "That's all."

  She shook her head in mystification. "You never slept with her?"

  "Never. I have a rule about not sleeping with women who are taller than me."

  Carrin giggled, delighted to learn that he was not as bad as she had thought. She had felt sorry for Jenna when he had dumped her, thinking that she had been his lover and therefore his callous brush-off had hurt her. If she had only been a date, however, she had little to complain about. Even if she had feelings for him, it was not his fault that he did not return them, and he had not taken advantage of her. That was assuming that he was telling the truth, yet somehow she believed him, it sounded so like him. A gremlin of doubt crouched in the back of her mind, telling her that this was too good to be true, and either she was going to wake up soon, or there was still a sinister side to this story. She ignored it, letting the joy wash through her in a huge warm tide. So long as she admitted to nothing, this night would embarrass only him, if he was lying. Mark smiled, still holding her around the waist.

  She asked, "Just how tall are you, anyway?"

  "Not very."

  "Tell me."

  He pulled a face. "Not quite six foot."

  "Five foot eleven?"

  He nodded. "If you insist on exact figures, yes. Can we get back to the original discussion?"

  "What was that?"

  "You were about to agree to marry me."

  She smiled. "Was I? I don't remember you asking, just assuming, just like a superstar with a bloated ego would."

  He sighed. "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

  Carrin shook her head, ready to burst with happiness. If he was prepared to go as far as actually marrying her, she would go along with it, but she would never tell him how she felt.

  Mark hesitated, his eyes wary. "Okay." He released her and guided her back to the bench, making her sit. "I'm not doing this with you standing up."

  "It's just a question."

  "But it's the most important one I'll ever ask, so I'm going to do it right."

  "What do you mean?"

  Mark sank down on one knee and took her hands. Carrin stared at him in amazement. She had not expected him to go this far. He studied her hands, caressing them. When he looked up, his eyes caught the moonlight and glowed, deep blue.

  "If I prove to you on our wedding day that I love you with all my heart and will never leave you or betray you, will you marry me?"

  Her heart swelled until she thought it would burst, and her eyes stung at the poignant beauty of the moment, so much more than her wildest dreams had ever conjured. She swallowed hard, struggling to speak around the lump in her throat. He was waiting, his eyes intent.

  Carrin nodded jerkily. "Yes."

  In a smooth movement, he rose to his feet and pulled her into his arms, cupping her face to gaze deep into her eyes. She let her eyes roam over his face, longing to touch the proud straight nose and fine, crooked dark brows. Her gaze lingered on his mouth, with its narrow top lip, so mobile and sensitive, and fuller, sensuous bottom lip, so close. He was not smiling, and before she knew what was happening, he kissed her.

  Tingling thrills raced through her in a warm, shivering tide that blossomed in her belly and suffused her chest. Her heart pounded, and her head spun. His warm lips caressed hers with passionate tenderness. All the kisses that she had experienced before seemed clumsy and artless by comparison. Her arms slid around his waist, exploring the ridges of muscle on his flanks through his silk shirt. She pressed close to him, and longed to get closer still. His breath quickened, and his hand slid down her back to press her to him. Her hands, as if of their own volition, plucked the shirt from his waistband and slid under it, caressing his warm back.

  Mark stepped away, releasing her from the spell, and pulled her hands from under his shirt. He ran his fingers through his sleek dark hair and shook his head.

  "Now who's seducing who?"

  She smiled, longing to pull him close again, not wanting the magic to end. "You started it."

  He looked rattled. "I wasn't trying to seduce you, especially not in Simon's rose garden."

  "Then it seems you don't even have to try."

  "My god, what will happen when I do?" He smiled crookedly.

  Throwing caution to the winds, she stepped up to him and slid her arms around his neck, running her fingers through the soft hair on his nape. He held her away.

  "We should go and tell Simo
n the good news."

  "Not yet."

  "Carrin, don't. I only have so much will power, you know."

  She sighed and allowed herself the pleasure of tracing his cheek with her fingertips. He captured them and kissed her palm.

  "Come on, before you drive me crazy."

  Mark moved away, tucking his shirt in, then took her hand. Carrin seemed to walk on air as she strolled beside him back to the house. The fog of champagne gave her courage when they reached the lights, where a considerably reduced crowd laughed and talked around the pool. Mark led her into the lounge, his eyes scanning the room for his friend. Simon leant against the wall, chatting to a comedian. Janice hung on his arm, gazing at him raptly. Mark headed for them, but Carrin hung back, suddenly shy. He turned to her.

  "You're not chickening out on me now."

  He tugged her after him, and Simon broke off his conversation to look up and crow, "Mark! There you are! We thought you'd left."

  Mark was forced to release her hand in order to shake the comedian's proffered one. Without his tactile support, and away from the magic of the moonlit rose garden, her doubts rushed back. Was she doing the right thing? It was too late now, however. Mark leant forward to speak to Simon. The blond superstar let out a whoop of delight that made her jump, then scooped her up into a bear hug. She squeaked in surprise.

  "Carrin, you little darling, I thought it was never going to happen!" He grinned and kissed her on the mouth, much to her shock and discomfiture.

  Mark tapped him on the shoulder. "You can put her down now."

  Simon obliged with a laugh. "Hey, this is great! When's the big day?"

  Janice scowled and demanded, "What the hell's going on, Simon?"

  "Mark's getting married!"

  Janice's mouth fell open. "To her?"

  He nodded. "Isn't it great?"

  Janice glared at Carrin. "Yeah, wonderful."

  Simon's enthusiasm could not be dampened. He turned and banged thunderously on the nearest table. "Listen up, everyone!"

  The hubbub of talking and laughter died down. Carrin wanted to run. She hated to be the centre of attention. Mark pulled her to his side and put an arm around her shoulders.

  "Don't worry," he murmured.

  Simon addressed the crowd. "Mark's getting married to Carrin York!"

  Shouts of congratulation came from the throng, along with applause and even a little cheering. Comments like 'another one bites the dust' were shouted, and only one very drunk man asked, "Mark who?"

  Mark glanced at her. "Well, the dice are cast. If I fail, I'm going to end up looking like a real idiot."

  Before Carrin could reply, well-wishers swamped them. Men pumped Mark's hand and thumped him on the back; women took the opportunity to kiss him. Some kissed Carrin too, but far less enthusiastically. The men congratulated her warmly, and the people she knew emerged from the blur of strangers. Warren gave her a hug and a kiss. Harold shook her hand and kissed the back of it, his eyes twinkling as he muttered, "It's about bloody time."

  Olivia kissed her on both cheeks and said, "So, you came to your senses at last."

  The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Champagne flowed afresh, and Simon got as drunk as a lord, toasting them almost continuously. Once he leant close to her and slurred, "Bet you never thought you'd land a big fish like him, eh?"

  Even though Simon tried to pour copious amounts of champagne down his throat, Mark remained fairly sober. He stayed close to her, shielding her from curious well-wishers who tried to ask personal questions. Many women shot her envious glances, but Mark kept her on the dance floor most of the time, and they shared many more wonderful, passionate kisses under the dim lights. Simon tried to empty a bottle of champagne over them, telling them to cool off. Mark saw him coming and whisked her aside, and Simon drenched an elderly couple behind them instead.

  In the end, a group of friends threw the blond superstar in the pool. By then, most of the better-behaved people had gone, leaving a rowdy bunch of youngsters. Mark suggested that they leave, and she was happy to. They left Simon in the pool, playfully trying to drown the friends he had dragged in with him.

  There were still a few limousines parked outside, but Mark led her to the black Lotus Esprit.

  "I don't like to keep John waiting all night in the parking lot," he explained, and gestured to some chauffeurs who were playing dice and looking extremely bored. "Even though they get something to eat and drink, it's not much fun for them."

  Carrin slid into the low-slung car, and Mark eased in beside her. She wondered if he would take her to his house, but to her relief and disappointment, he drove to her hotel. He pulled up and turned to her with a smile.

  "I'll see you tomorrow at around ten. We've got a busy day."

  Numbly she nodded, feeling tired and drained, now that the effect of the champagne was starting to wear off. He leant over and kissed her as the doorman opened her door. She watched the sleek black car drive away, then went up to her room. It all seemed like a dream, and she wondered what would happen when she woke up in the morning.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A gentle knocking on her door woke Carrin. She groaned and looked at the clock. It was eight in the morning. Why was someone knocking on her door? The happy haze of champagne had turned into a dull throbbing in her temples, and she was feeling distinctly under the weather. Pulling on her robe, she went to the door and opened it a crack, peering out. A bellhop stood there, grinning. He held an enormous vase of deep red roses.

  "Morning miss."

  Carrin opened the door, discovering that behind him was another bellhop carrying two vases, and behind that one another. Carrin leant on the wall and watched in amazement as an apparently endless procession of bellhops came in carrying roses, set them down on the tables of the lounge and left. Soon the living room was full, and they started on the bedroom. Her mind boggled. Never had she seen so many roses. Soon most of the furniture had disappeared under them. When at last the flood of flowers ceased, the last bellhop handed her a note on his way out. It said simply, 'Good morning. Love Mark.'

  Carrin sat on the bed and stared at the flowers. There were at least a hundred dozen roses in the hotel suite. It was wonderful, but crazy. She showered and dressed, took an Aspirin for her headache and had a light breakfast. By that time, it was ten o'clock, and a knock on her door startled her again.

  Carrin opened it to find Mark standing there, looking devastating in a white silk shirt with a cream jacket and trousers. He had not been to her hotel, so far as she could remember, other than to drop her off or pick her up, and had not got out of the car. He wandered in, gave her a kiss and looked around in approval.

  "Ah, I see my order arrived."

  Carrin closed the door. "Yes, at eight o'clock this morning."

  "Too early for you?"

  "A little, since I only got to bed at about three." Realising that she sounded churlish, she added, "But they're beautiful."

  "Are you regretting your decision, now that you're sober?"

  "Somewhat."

  Mark nodded. "I thought you might, but I'm not letting you off the hook until you've seen my proof. You made a promise, so you have to keep it."

  "And after I've seen it, if I'm not convinced, what then?"

  He shrugged. "Then it can be annulled."

  "Very embarrassing for you."

  "Very," he agreed, picking a rose and smelling it.

  "I won't go back on my word."

  Mark raised his eyes and smiled. "Good." Digging in his pocket, he produced a jeweller's box. Carrin knew what must be in it and stepped back.

  "You don't have to go this far."

  Mark opened the box and held it out. On a bed of black velvet, a large white diamond spat brilliant fire from within a sweeping circle of flame red rubies, like the centre of a galaxy. She stared at it, a lump forming in her throat.

  "Is it real?"

  He snorted. "No, it's a piece of glass. Of course it's real, like everything
else."

  "It must be worth a fortune."

  "Is that how you measure love?"

  "No, of course not."

  "Good, because I could have got a bigger one, but I didn't think you'd want to drag around the Rock of Gibraltar for the rest of your life. And you will wear it for the rest of your life, I promise."

  "What are you going to do, weld it to my finger?"

  "If I can get the damn thing on your finger."

  Carrin realised that she had her hands clasped behind her back.

  Mark's dark eyes twinkled. "Still scared?"

  Resolutely she held out her left hand, and he slipped the priceless ring on without ceremony. "There. Now it's almost official."

  "Almost?" She studied the ring, the flashes of multi-coloured light that shot from the stone mesmerising her.

  "Yes." He snapped the ring box shut and stuffed it back in his pocket. "I'm afraid we still have to face the media."

  "Oh, no." Carrin looked up at him, horrified.

  "Oh, yes." He smiled. "One of the many drawbacks to marrying an actor, I'm afraid."

  "Maybe you'd better tell me the rest now."

  "And frighten you off? No way."

  "That's not fair."

  "Life's not fair." He took her hand and headed for the door. Carrin hung back, afraid of facing all the flashing lights and beady eyes.

  "I'm not dressed."

  He stopped and raked her with his eyes. "And I'm not blind. If you weren't dressed, I'd have noticed."

  "I mean, I should put on something better."

  "There's nothing wrong with what you're wearing."

  Carrin glanced down at her outfit of black designer jeans and a baggy, long-sleeved T-shirt with a design on the front. It wasn't a bad outfit, but she had better. "I should change."

  He sighed. "Why? I think you look great. Does anyone else's opinion matter? Other than your own, of course, but then, if you hadn't liked those clothes, you wouldn't have bought them in the first place."

  Carrin groaned in frustration and picked up her bag, following him to the door. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

  "Because I don't want to be ambushed on the way out."