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Pagan Enchantment
Carole Mortimer
Carole Mortimer is one of Mills & Boon’s best loved Modern Romance authors. With nearly 200 books published and a career spanning 35 years, Mills & Boon are thrilled to present her complete works available to download for the very first time! Rediscover old favourites - and find new ones! - in this fabulous collection…Swept away by the millionaire…Promising young actress, Merry Charles, is beyond excited when celebrated movie director, Gideon Steele, arrives to see her play. She can’t help but dream that it’s so he can offer her a part in his next production.But that isn't what Gideon wants at all. In fact the reason he has come to see Merry is much more personal… Soon Merry finds herself being swept away to the Mediterranean on Gideon’s luxury yacht. And posing as Gideon’s girlfriend is only the first surprise…
Pagan Enchantment
Carole Mortimer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#uf7006a8b-ad2b-53f8-9446-4f2001533fc1)
Title Page (#ucb4387f0-1bf9-5c92-8568-53e10eab84c2)
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u8ff71d5a-6238-5c12-9663-e91187c7bec7)
‘DID you see who was in the audience?’ Vanda asked excitedly at the end of the first act, as the two of them were changing for their next scene.
‘Who?’ Merry asked wearily, knowing there was always supposed to be ‘someone’ in the audience. There rarely was, and somehow she doubted it very much for this play—it would probably be closed down within the week! A dozen or so inexperienced actors and actresses parading about the stage wearing weird clothes and having shocking coloured hair—her own was pink!—spouting inane dialogue to the meagre audience, was not something that was likely to attract the interest of anyone who really mattered. In fact, it no longer held her interest—and she was appearing in it!
‘Gideon Steele!’ Vanda pulled on her own tight leather trousers and leather waistcoat, her hair bright orange, her own blonde hair hidden beneath the atrocious wig.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Merry dismissed, putting on a similar outfit, hating the amount of bare flesh it left. This play might have paid her rent for the last month of rehearsal, but even though it would once more leave her one of the numerous unemployed, she would be glad when it came to an end. It would probably never have opened at all if Harry Anderson, the author, hadn’t been rich enough to pay to have it put on himself. All it had proved was that you could put anything on the stage if you had the money to pay for it. Nevertheless, the critics would close this play as soon as possible; even Harry Anderson couldn’t expect them to play to an empty theatre! Although having come to know Harry this last month she thought maybe that wasn’t so unbelievable. Left a millionaire many times over three years ago when only twenty-two, he had more money than sense, as her father would have put it.
As for Gideon Steele being in the audience, it was not only unlikely, it was highly ridiculous. He had won an Oscar last year for best film director, his work being highly acclaimed by fellow directors and critics alike. And he wouldn’t come to see a play like this. Besides, he was a film director, not a stage director.
‘Handsome Harry said he is,’ Vanda used their pet name for Harry Anderson.
‘Wishful thinking,’ Merry grimaced. ‘Come on, the second act is about to start. And in case you forgot, we should be on stage.’
‘Okay,’ the other girl shrugged. ‘But take a look in the front row. I only saw him on the box last year at the awards, but I don’t normally forget a good-looking man,’ she gave an exaggerated leer, ‘and Gideon Steele is a handsome devil. In fact, he’s gorgeous! I’m sure it’s him. Your mascara has run.’ Vanda handed her a tissue. ‘God, this make-up is awful!’ She shook her head.
It certainly was. Stage make-up was always thick, necessarily so because of the lights, but as they played the parts of two showgirls their eye make-up was very thick too, their lip-gloss a deep slash of red across the mouth.
The second act went as badly as the first, and Merry saw several people actually get up and leave. But not the man sitting alone in the very front row, several vacant seats away from other people. She couldn’t see him clearly, just caught glimpses of him every now and then, a dark-haired man wearing glasses with tinted lenses, making it impossible for her to see the colour or expression of his eyes. He was sitting back in his seat, the ankle of one leg resting on the knee of the other one, the elbow of one arm resting on the side of the chair, his hand up over his mouth partly obscuring his face.
‘Did you see him?’ Vanda asked as they came off to prepare for the third and final—perhaps in more ways than one!—act.
‘I saw a man,’ Merry nodded. ‘But the way he’s hiding his face he could be anyone.’
Vanda giggled. ‘You’d probably hide your face too if you were Gideon Steele watching a play like this!’
‘If he is Gideon Steele.’
‘He is,’ Harry spoke from behind them.
Vanda spun round. ‘He is?’ her pretty face lit up, although she looked very garish in the bright make-up. ‘He really is?’ She grabbed Harry’s arm.
‘Yes, darling, he really is,’ he drawled, his fair hair brushed back from a middle parting, a white silk scarf draped casually around his neck, falling loosely down over the black evening jacket he wore. His features were almost too perfect, making him occasionally look beautiful, like right now, aptly earning him the nickname of Handsome Harry. ‘But he isn’t here to see you,’ he told Vanda smugly. ‘He’s here to see Merry.’
Her head went up. ‘Me?’ she gasped. ‘You really mean me?’
‘Well, he took me to one side and asked me to point out which one was Meredith Charles. He said you all looked alike,’ he added with a disgusted sniff.
Merry frowned. ‘But why would he want to see me?’ she puzzled.
‘Use your head, darling,’ said Harry in his most affected drawl. ‘He’s casting his latest movie, maybe there’s a part in it for you.’
‘Step on to my casting couch!’ Vanda giggled. ‘I might even be persuaded to do that for a man like him.’
‘Really, darling,’ Harry drawled haughtily, ‘do have some class! That approach is old hat now. And you, darling,’ he spoke to Merry, ‘make a good impression, there’s a love.’
‘“There’s a love”,’ Vanda mimicked softly as he moved away. ‘Do you know why he calls us all darling or love?’
‘Why?’ Merry asked vaguely, wondering if Gideon Steele really did have her in mind for his next film. What a break that would be if he did. This awful play would have been worth it!
Vanda grimaced. ‘Because he can’t remember our names.’
‘Who can’t?’ she frowned.
‘Handsome Harry can’t. Hey, are you with me?’ her friend teased.
‘Sorry,’ she smiled. ‘I was just—I can’t believe Gideon Steele asked to see me!’
‘Fantastic, isn’t it?’ said Vanda without jealousy, her arm through the crook of Merry’s as they went to the dressing-room they shared with two other girls.
Merry was very nervous when she went back on stage, even more conscious of the man sitting alone in the front row. His hand was down from his face now, revealing deeply tanned skin, a long straight nose, the well-shaped mouth twisted derisively, the tinted glasses still hiding his eyes. Merry had always believed the eyes to be the mirrors of the soul, and without seeing his eyes she couldn’t begin to tell what he was thinking. But that derision on his mouth made her squirm.
By this time the theatre was slowly emptying, so that by the time they came to the end of the play the clapping in the darkened theatre sounded to be half a dozen people. And Gideon Steele wasn’t one of them, getting to his feet and going through the stage door to the right of him. Merry had a brief glimpse of him before the curtain came down, a tall powerfully built man, wearing fitted denims and a brown bomber jacket.
‘Wonderful, darlings. Wonderful!’ Harry enthused ecstatically as they wandered off the stage.
‘It may have escaped your notice, Harry,’ one of the male cast taunted, ‘but the damn theatre was empty by the time we got to the end!’
‘Exactly!’ he cried. ‘That’s exactly the reaction I was looking for.’
‘Idiot!’ hissed Vanda.
‘I don’t know what you’re all complaining about,’ he snapped. ‘You have nothing to lose—–’
‘Except their reputations as actors,’ drawled a sardonic voice.
‘Gideon!’ Harry exclaimed with a smile. ‘My dear man! What did you think of it?’
Merry was busy studying the man she now knew was Gideon Steele. He stood only feet away from her, taller than any of the other men here, older too, with an aura of power and vitality that seemed to make him impatient with his surroundings. His hair was very dark, almost black, brushed casually back from his face and long over his collar and ears, the face hard, as if carved from granite, the glasses still in evidence and so shielding the expression of his eyes.
He looked at Harry unsmilingly. ‘It was trash,’ he said bluntly. ‘And that’s being kind.’
Harry’s mouth dropped open, a hurt look to his face. ‘Gideon …’
‘And who gave you permission to call me your dear man, boy?’ he snapped, using his obvious seniority to humiliate the other man. ‘You ought to be put against a wall and shot for the setback you’ve given the reputation of the theatre tonight. In fact, I’d like to be the one to do the shooting,’ he derided harshly.
Several of the cast members turned away to hide their smiles, but not Merry. She knew the play was awful, that they must all have been mad to appear in it, that without his own money to back it Harry would never have got it as far as a theatre, but that didn’t excuse the way Gideon Steele was verbally humiliating the other man in front of everyone. It was cruel and unkind—but then Gideon Steele had a hardness about his mouth that seemed to indicate he enjoyed being cruel on occasion.
‘I’m sure we all have our failures when we first start out,’ she heard herself say. ‘Even you, Mr Steele,’ she added softly, holding her breath at her own daring.
She had remembered something about Gideon Steele, something she had read about him once. He may be a highly acclaimed director now, but when he had started out fifteen years ago he had had an absolute disaster of a film, had had trouble getting finance for future films, and it had taken the succeeding five years to prove his skill. But he had been at the top of his profession for ten years now.
He looked over in her direction, everyone about them suddenly falling silent, the ones that had been rushing off to change now lingering on at the prospect of a heated exchange. ‘Touché, Miss …?’
‘Charles,’ she supplied stiltedly.
His mouth tightened. ‘Meredith Charles?’
‘Yes.’
He turned furiously to Harry. ‘You told me the one with the orange hair!’ he ground out.
Harry looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m sure I said pink … Does it matter?’ he shrugged dismissively.
The other man controlled his anger with effort. ‘Not now,’ he sighed. ‘I’d like to talk to you, Miss Charles,’ he told her impatiently.
The buzz of interest deepened about them, and Merry felt herself blush. Whatever he had to say surely shouldn’t be said in front of the rest of the cast?
Obviously he thought so too, for he took her arm in a firm grip to move her to one side of the corridor, out of earshot of the others, most of them starting to wander off to their dressing-rooms now, losing interest when it was obvious he had come to see Merry and not themselves.
‘Do you mind?’ She shook off his hand, conscious of the speculative looks she was receiving; some of her fellow actors obviously doubted that this man’s interests were professional—as she did herself. He hadn’t even realised which one she was, had thought Vanda was her!
Someone pushed by them, momentarily knocking Gideon Steele off balance, so that for a moment Merry was crushed between the wall and the hardness of his body. She wasn’t very tall herself, only five feet two, and consequently her face was squashed against his chest, his thighs grinding into her.
‘Hell!’ he muttered, moving back. ‘It’s impossible to talk here. Go and change, I’ll wait for you outside.’ He pushed the tinted glasses up the bridge of his arrogant nose. ‘Don’t be long.’
‘Mr Steele!’ Her angry outburst stopped him in the process of turning to leave.
His brows rose. ‘Yes?’
She frowned her consternation. ‘I’m sure you’re a brilliant director, in fact, I know you are—–’
‘You surprise me,’ he drawled, ‘after appearing in this garbage.’
Her eyes sparkled angrily. ‘I have to pay the rent, Mr Steele. And if appearing in this “garbage” can do that, then I’ll do it!’
His mouth twisted, his eyes just discernible now, although not the colour. ‘You had to be desperate.’
Merry’s mouth tightened at his insulting tone. ‘I’m not so desperate that I’ll meekly agree to meet you when I’ve changed! I’ve heard of Gideon Steele, of course, and Harry seems convinced you are who you say you are, but I think we’re all agreed that Harry is an idiot.’
‘And after you defended him so bravely a few minutes ago,’ he taunted.
‘You were ridiculing him!’
‘He deserves to be ridiculed! If I had my way he would never be allowed near a theatre again,’ Gideon Steele bit out angrily.
Merry gave a half-smile. ‘He probably never will be.’
‘No,’ he agreed ruefully. ‘So if you don’t think I’m Gideon Steele, just who am I?’ he mocked.
She shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’
‘But you don’t intend meeting me later to find out?’
She looked at him unflinchingly. ‘No.’
‘So I need someone—other than Harry Anderson,’ he derided, ‘to vouch for me?’
‘There’s no need to go that far,’ she snapped. ‘Perhaps I could meet you somewhere tomorrow?’
He gave an impatient sigh. ‘Would you feel safer with me in daylight?’
‘I would feel safer if I never saw you again,’ she told him coldly, her head at a haughty angle. ‘But if you really are Gideon Steele …?’
‘Yes?’
‘I would be a fool not to at least listen to what you have to say.’
‘More so than you realise,’ he nodded grimly. ‘Okay, we’ll meet tomorrow. Do you have anywhere in mind?’
