Merlyn's Magic

She looked warily at Rand as he hesitated just inside the doorway before fully entering the room, completing the task of tucking the black shirt he wore into the waistband of fitted grey trousers as he did so. Now that the confrontation had come, Merlyn didn't know what to say to him. What does a woman say to the complete stranger she made love with the night before! Although he hadn't seemed so much of a stranger then.

Rand was eyeing her just as warily. ‘Has Mrs Sutton arrived yet?’ he asked abruptly.

‘No one's arrived.’ She shook her head. She had been going to say they were still completely alone, but in the circumstances that didn't sound right at all.

He frowned. ‘I wonder—–'

Both of them were startled when the telephone began to ring, Rand striding across the room to answer it. Merlyn watched him beneath lowered lashes, still finding it incredible that she knew his body more intimately than she knew her own. Any magic that had taken place last night had to have been instigated by Rand!

‘Yes,’ he was speaking to the caller now. ‘Okay, we'll see you soon.’ He rang off, shrugging slightly as he met Merlyn's questioning gaze. ‘Anne,’ he provided abruptly. ‘She's driving over.'

Oh God, Merlyn thought shakily, how was she supposed to face Suzie's sister after what had happened in this very room the night before! Rand seemed to guess at her dismay.

‘About last night—–'

‘Do we have to talk about it?’ she cut in raggedly.

‘Not if you don't want to.’ He frowned in his effort to read her expression with the daylight reflected behind her. ‘But—–'

‘I don't,’ she snapped, her hands moving together nervously. If this was the way a woman felt the morning after going to bed with a man she was glad she had avoided such encounters; she had never felt so uncomfortably out of place in her life!

He ran a hand through his loosely curling black hair. ‘I'd been drinking—–'

She had known that, had tasted the brandy on his lips and tongue, colour flooding her cheeks as she vividly recalled their insistent probing. ‘If that's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't!’ Her eyes flashed deeply green.

‘I'm not trying to make you feel better—–'

‘That's good—because you weren't succeeding!’ She was so tense her usual control had gone. ‘You see, I hadn't been drinking!'

Rand sighed. ‘I'm out of practice with the niceties of these bedroom games, and I'm sorry if all of this is coming out the wrong way.’ He didn't notice how pale Merlyn had become as he moved to pour himself a cup of coffee from the pot Merlyn had made earlier. ‘Believe it or not, I was faithful to my wife for the eight years of our marriage—–'

‘Why shouldn't I believe it?’ she snapped. ‘You loved her.'

‘Yes, I did,’ he grated bleakly. ‘But it isn't fashionable in her world to be faithful to a spouse.'

What was he saying, that Suzie had been unfaithful to him? Merlyn had seen too many show business marriages fall apart because of the long separations and the loneliness their work often necessitated. But she wouldn't believe that of Suzie Forrester.

‘We were both faithful.’ Rand seemed to mock her indignation. ‘And since her death—–’ He made an impatient movement, as if it still hurt him to admit she was dead. ‘I'm just trying to explain to you why the age-old platitudes of “how good it was” and “you were wonderful” don't trip lightly off my tongue—–'

‘It wasn't that good,’ Merlyn cut in hardly, knowing that as far as she was concerned she lied; it had been beautiful. ‘And I wasn't that wonderful,’ she scorned self-derisively.

Rand's eyes had narrowed. ‘You weren't that bad either. Look, I'm not trying to give you a rating from one to ten, I just wanted to make you understand that I don't usually extract that sort of payment from unexpected guests, that last night was just—the circumstances were—–'

‘Unreal,’ Merlyn supplied softly. ‘They were completely unreal, as if they happened to two other people and not us at all.'

He blinked at her. ‘Yes,’ he confirmed in a puzzled voice. ‘That's exactly the way it seems. I don't remember the last time I—–’ He turned towards the front door as the bell rang, his expression grim. ‘That will be Anne.'

Merlyn swallowed hard, dreading her meeting with the other woman now, feeling as if she had betrayed Anne's trust in her. ‘Please don't let her realise about last night—–'

Rand glared at her. ‘Do you think I want that any more than you do?’ he snapped. ‘God knows we've had our disagreements in the past, but making love to one of her friends would not be acceptable to Anne at all.'

Merlyn released her breath raggedly as she waited for him to admit the other woman. She wasn't a friend of Anne Benton's, but she had wanted to be, and she knew that if Anne realised what had happened in this room the night before that she, too, would wonder at Merlyn's motives. She doubted anyone would believe her only ‘motive’ have been to be with the man she had wanted so desperately from the first. Mistaking this house for the hotel had been bad enough, but making love with Rand had ruined any chance she might have had of convincing him to let her appear in the film, especially as that chance had been slim to start with.

The woman who entered the lounge at Rand's side wasn't at all what Merlyn had been expecting. Anne was a short blonde woman of about thirty who, if one were being generous, could be called cuddly, and if one weren't, would be called plump. Suzie had been tall, ethereally slim, and dark-haired, and her sister came as something of a surprise.

Anne couldn't exactly be called beautiful either, with her even features, but as she smiled Merlyn realised she had something much more than mere surface beauty, that her warm blue eyes glowed with her inner serenity and gave her a charm that couldn't be bought or applied and would never fade.

‘Merlyn!’ she greeted warmly, crossing the room to hug her, unzipping the anorak she wore over a powder-blue jumper and denims as the heat in the room hit her. ‘You're just as beautiful as I thought you would be,’ she complimented without envy. ‘You really—–’ The glow left her eyes as she frowned up at Merlyn. ‘My God, what happened to your mouth?’ she gasped, moving Merlyn out of the light of the window. ‘You didn't mention anything yesterday about an accident—–'

‘I wasn't in an accident,’ Merlyn refuted reluctantly, knowing Anne had seen what Rand hadn't; the black and purple bruising about the cut she had made on her bottom lip.

‘But you look as if someone punched you in the— My God,’ she breathed dazedly, turning slowly to look at Rand. ‘You didn't!’ She shook her head disbelievingly. ‘Brandon, you can't blame Merlyn for any of this, it was my idea that she come up here. You didn't have to do this.’ She looked again with horror at the bruising to Merlyn's lip.

‘I didn't,’ he dismissed abruptly. ‘What was your idea? And if Merlyn is a friend of yours how is it that you didn't know how beautiful she is?’ His eyes were narrowed with cold suspicion.

Merlyn gave a negative shake of her head as Anne looked at her enquiringly, knowing the other woman had expected her to have told Rand who she was by now. Maybe she should have done, but he was already unfriendly enough without that, and she had had no idea how long she was going to be stranded with him in this way. Cold indifference she could live with, armed warfare was something else! She would have told him the truth before she left, Merlyn knew she owed him that. Although she probably wouldn't have told him in quite this way.

‘Because—–'

‘Because Anne and I have never met before,’ Merlyn cut in firmly, giving the other woman a reassuring look before meeting Rand's challenging gaze at her admission. ‘I'm an actress, and I—–'

‘Want to appear in that damned film they intend making about my wife,’ he finished thunderously. ‘I should have known,’ he scorned. ‘Arriving here in the storm with some tale about thinking this was Anne's hotel, when all the time—–'

‘That wasn't a tale,’ Merlyn defended herself heatedly. ‘Do you really imagine I wanted our first meeting to be made that way?'

‘Yes, I think that's exactly what you wanted.’ He looked at her in contempt. ‘I think you planned yesterday down to the last detail!'

All the colour drained from her face at his silent implication that she had intended that they should make love last night all along, that if the opportunity hadn't presented itself the way that it had then she would have made it happen. It was completely unjustified, but she had known who he was and she had made love with him, and that was all Rand could see at the moment.

‘Brandon, please.’ Anne shot Merlyn a concerned glance. ‘Merlyn only wanted—–'

His icy gaze silenced his sister-in-law. ‘I know you want this film made, Anne, but I'm sure even you don't realise the lengths your “friend” Merlyn went to to try and persuade me—–'

‘Anne, would you mind waiting for me outside?’ Merlyn cut in shakily before Rand could list those ‘lengths'. She was avoiding looking at him. ‘I just have a few things to say to your brother-in-law, and then I intend getting as far away from here as I can!'

‘But—–'

‘Perhaps that would be best.’ Rand's voice was harsh, his gaze fixed relentlessly on Merlyn. ‘Merlyn and I have a few things to say to each other that might shock your sensibilities,’ he added with a sneer.

Anne looked at them each in turn, finally settling on Merlyn. ‘I'll be waiting in the Range Rover,’ she said gently. ‘You'll have to leave your car here and collect it another time, I'm afraid; I only just managed to get through with the four-wheel drive.'

Merlyn had no intention of ever returning to this house, for any reason. It was a hire-car, she would pay the extra for the hire company to come and pick it up. She certainly couldn't see Rand Carmichael again, for any reason. ‘I won't be long,’ she assured the other woman.

‘An actress!’ Rand scorned as soon as they were alone. ‘You should be given an award for your performance last night and this morning.’ He paced the room, glaring at her. ‘A damned actress!’ he repeated disgustedly, his contempt obvious.

‘I'm not a “damned” anything,’ she snapped. ‘And actress isn't a dirty word!'

‘You're the latest of Christopher Drake's offerings, aren't you?’ he accused, ignoring her anger. ‘Did you go to bed with him, too, to get even this far?'

In the circumstances it was an accusation which could have been expected, but that didn't make it any more acceptable. She may have been stupid last night, even more impetuous than she had ever been before in her life, but one thing she was not was promiscuous!

‘What a stupid question,’ Rand derided himself. ‘Of course you've slept with him!'

‘You were the one who wanted me last night,’ she reminded him chokingly.

‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘I wanted you. Do you have any idea why?'

She frowned at the violence of his aggression. ‘You seemed upset—–'

‘Upset!’ he repeated with derisive mockery. ‘A man kneels before you sobbing like a baby and you think he was just upset!'

Merlyn moistened her lips. ‘You didn't seem to want to explain—–'

‘And you didn't want to ask!’ he scorned hardly. ‘You just walked naked into my arms!'

She drew in a ragged breath, knowing she deserved his accusations; she hadn't wanted to probe into why he had been crying, she had just wanted to be with him. ‘You didn't seem in the mood to talk—–'

‘No—I'm as susceptible to the beauty of a woman's naked body as the next man!’ He looked at her with dislike. ‘And when a wanton throws herself at you like that you don't stop to ask questions, you just take!'

‘It wasn't like that!’ She shook her head protestingly. ‘I only wanted—–'

‘What you wanted you got,’ he rasped. ‘And you enjoyed every moment of it! But there was something you overlooked in all your greedy little plans—yesterday was the second anniversary of Suzie's death!'

The room swam dizzily before Merlyn's eyes for several seconds. The second anniversary of his wife's death! Anne had started to tell her something on the telephone yesterday just before the line went down, and she knew it had to have been this. If only she had realised. But these last few weeks she had been so intent on researching the living Suzie that the actual date of her death hadn't registered as being yesterday. But if she had known would she really have acted any differently when she found Rand sobbing so brokenly last night?

‘Unless of course you did realise,’ that silky voice cut in, dangerously soft, ‘and decided I would be malleable on a day when Suzie's death was so vivid to me!'

‘You know that isn't true,’ Merlyn gasped, shaking her head in denial. ‘I wouldn't do a thing like that. You—–'

‘I don't know a damn thing about you—except that you can drive a man wild enough in your arms for him to forget everything else for a short time!’ His eyes were narrowed ominously. ‘I don't need to know any more than that about you. The answer is no, Merlyn. N.O.—No! Even if I were ever to agree to this travesty being made I wouldn't let a woman like you defile Suzie's memory!'

Merlyn would take his other insults, but not that one. Suzie Forrester had been a beautiful and lovely woman, but Merlyn wouldn't accept being told she wasn't fit to portray her! All she had done wrong was to want this man, and she wasn't even sure that had been so wrong. She had gone to him when he needed someone, and at the time he hadn't seemed to mind.

‘You know all these things you're saying about me aren't true,’ she challenged him angrily.

‘I told you, I know nothing about you—and I don't want to know!'

‘You know something about me you aren't willing to admit to yourself,’ she bit out. ‘Why is that, Rand?’ she cried bitterly. ‘Does it make it difficult to put the blame for last night on me?'

His eyes were cold, angry slits between lush lashes. ‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

‘You may have been a faithful husband, Rand, but you had plenty of years before you met Suzie to experience every type of lovemaking there is. And although you haven't admitted it, you have to know that last night was my first time with a man!'

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