Merlyn's Magic

by Carole Mortimer

  'No,' he acknowledged raggedly. 'Do you think Brandon does?'

  'Do you?' she groaned, stunned by what he had just revealed. Of course she had noticed that everyone else called him Brandon, but she hadn't really paid that much attention to it, not when she had a brother who affectionately called her Lyn when no one else ever did. But that was exactly what Rand's name was too, a term of affection, and yet he had allowed her that privilege. 'Unless he just didn't want me to realise who he was,' she spoke out loud as the thought occurred to her, shrugging as James gave her a puzzled look. 'He never did introduce himself properly,' she explained. 'I think he wanted to be someone else that day. I only realised who he was when I accidentally saw a photograph of Suzie in the house.'

  'Ah,' James said wonderingly.

  She didn't tell him that the photograph had been in Rand's bedroom, or that later that night she had seen it destroyed on the fire. Although that did bring her back to her original question. 'Were they happy, James?' she prompted again, huskily.

  'As far as it goes, yes,' he replied. 'They—had their problems just like any other couple. No marriage is completely without its ups and downs, it would be boring if it was. Why do you ask?'

  She chewed on her inner lip. 'He isn't an easy man to get to know.' Which was true; even though they were lovers she knew there was still a lot of himself he didn't allow her to see.

  'Brandon is exactly what he seems,' James shrugged. 'He's a man who has survived, in his own way, in spite of the raw deals he's been handed most of his life. His parents were killed when he was four, and with no close relatives willing to take him he was placed in an orphanage. But at four he remembered his own parents too well to really be wanted by a childless couple, refused to have them replaced in his life. Until he met Suzie I don't think there was anyone he loved or who loved him. He adored her,' James said simply. 'And Suzie worshipped him in return. It was a complete marriage by itself, but they both wanted children, were naturally disappointed when it didn't happen. Although that never detracted from their love for each other, in fact I think it deepened because of it.'

  But there had been a child, although Anne had obviously not revealed to her husband the slip she had made by telling Merlyn that.

  'When he found out how ill Suzie was it almost killed him,' James continued with a frown. 'And he was right beside her when she fought to live. I think her recovery was like a miracle to him, one of the few he had ever known. And then she was killed in the accident.' He shook his head. 'She was given back to him from the clutches of death only to be taken away again. He isn't going to open himself up to that sort of pain again in a hurry.'

  If at all, Merlyn realised despondently.

  'If it's any consolation,' James said softly at her look of despair. 'You've got the closest to him of anyone since—Well, I can't tell you how pleased Anne was when the two of you came to dinner last night,' he amended as he realised he wasn't being tactful.

  She had been thrilled too when Rand had told her about the invitation to the Bentons' and asked her if she would like to go. And although the evening had had its awkward moments she had thought it went quite well. Damn Mark for giving her these insecurities.

  'You're right.' She gave James a rueful smile. 'I'm expecting too much too soon.'

  He quirked dark brows. 'Did I say that?'

  Merlyn's expression was wry. 'In your usually polite way, yes!'

  'Is it too late to warn you that you could be hurt?' he prompted gently.

  'Much too late,' she nodded. 'I think it was too late for that even before I met Rand,' she added slowly.

  James gave a puzzled laugh. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

  She could understand his reaction to the statement; her feelings for Rand didn't make much sense to her either. 'Do you believe in fate?'

  'As in "meant to be"?'

  She shook her head, chewing thoughtfully on the edge of her bottom lip. 'As in "has to be". Destined.'

  'Explain to this slightly befuddled man who's been having to make two o'clock in the morning visits to the hotel kitchen to satisfy his pregnant wife's craving for strawberries and peanut butter!'

  'Well I—Strawberries and peanut butter! Really?' Merlyn pulled a disgusted face.

  'Really.' James shuddered at the admission. 'She sits up in bed eating the nauseating concoction like a cat with a saucer of cream while I literally go green!'

  'I'm not surprised!'

  'And she had the nerve to complain to Liza about my eating biscuits in bed!' He swallowed hard, starting to look a little ill now. 'I don't think we should talk about Anne's nocturnal habits any more! Besides, you're getting side-tracked.'

  She knew exactly what she was doing, but when it actually came to putting it into words about her fatalistic feelings for Rand she felt a little stupid. All she really knew for certain was that when it came to Rand she had no choices; she loved him.

  'Merlyn?' James prompted softly.

  She sighed. 'I'm a theatre actress,' began Merlyn forcefully. 'I really had no desire to go in to films, was enjoying what I was doing too much, playing different parts every few months or so.'

  'But when the big screen beckoned you reluctantly jumped at the chance,' mocked James teasingly.

  'That's just it.' She shook her head. 'I actually badgered Christopher Drake into auditioning me for the part.' She still sounded slightly dazed by her uncharacteristic behaviour—as indeed she was. 'I'd heard about Anne's book, although I'd never read it, and then I heard they were going to make a film, and I—Well, I was drawn to it.'

  James shrugged. 'I can't see anything unusual about that.'

  'But there is,' she protested, blushing at her own vehemence. 'Maybe if I explain a little about my family it will help you understand,' she sighed. 'My parents are both doctors, my older brother is a lawyer—'

  'And you're the black sheep,' he sympathised.

  'Professionally, yes,' Merlyn acknowledged with a frown. 'But emotionally—normally, I'm as reserved as they are. Although I prefer to think of it as being cautious,' she added ruefully. 'It doesn't make me sound as cold-blooded. All I'm trying to show you is that I wanted the part of Suzie so much that I turned down the offer of another year's contract at the theatre before Christopher had even decided to give me the part, let alone attempted to overcome Rand's prejudices. Can't you see that this just isn't me?'

  'Who is it, then?' He looked confused.

  'I don't know any more,' she sighed. 'I think I'm still me, a less cautious me than I'm used to admittedly, but I'm still me. Most of the time,' she added with hesitation.

  'Maybe you've just been working too hard,' he advised gently. 'It must be a strain having to be someone else for up to twelve hours a day.'

  If that were all it was! But it wasn't. She was used to playing someone else, had never had any trouble shaking off a character before. Besides, this had begun before she even came here and started work, before she had even met Rand. Sometimes she felt as if her actions were controlled by someone else completely…

  That evening she and Rand went out to dine, the intimately small restaurant serving a selection of both Italian and English cuisine, an elderly man hauntingly playing the violin moving among the tables.

  But for the first time in days the atmosphere between Merlyn and Rand was strained. Much as she hated to admit it, Mark's conversation this morning had bothered her. If Suzie had left Rand, why had she? If she had…

  Merlyn had known of the rumours circulating at the time, that because Suzie was in London and Rand was still at their house in the Lake District the couple were actually living apart. But like the majority of the general public she had believed Rand when he denied any estrangement, and that angle of the story was dropped by even the most persistent of reporters. But Mark had planted fresh seeds of doubt in her mind that just couldn't be denied. Much as she had tried.

  Rand was very quiet too, and while they had never been carefree lovers telling each other their every thought, they
had passed the stage where he sat in brooding silence while she tried to guess at his mood.

  She sat forward to place her hand over his. 'What is it?' she prompted softly.

  He looked up, focusing on her with effort, as if for a while he had forgotten she was even there. 'Sorry.' He forced a smile to the hardness of his mouth. 'I was miles away…'

  Or years away. Suddenly, as she looked around at the exclusive restaurant, remembered the way the maitre d' had seemed to greet Rand as if he knew him, she understood. 'You used to come here with Suzie!'

  Rand's gaze was instantly watchful, his expression guarded. 'Yes, I did.'

  There was challenge in his voice, as if he expected her to object. And she did, felt as if he were carrying out some sort of experiment. And she was the guinea-pig! 'And?' she returned that challenge.

  He drew a ragged breath. 'And I can still see her sitting there with a white rose in her hair,' he rasped harshly.

  All the colour drained from Merlyn's face. 'A white rose…?'

  He nodded abruptly. 'They were her favourite flowers; I always made sure the house was full of them.'

  They were her favourite flowers too. But they hadn't always been, she used to prefer yellow carnations to any other flower. What was happening to her!

  She stood up abruptly. 'I think I'd like to leave now,' she told him tautly.

  Rand nodded, throwing some money for their meal down on the table before escorting her to the door, waving aside the manager's concern that there had been something wrong with their meal, his expression grim as he helped Merlyn into the waiting car.

  'I'm sorry,' he finally exclaimed, the BMW eating up the miles back to the hotel. 'For everything,' he added bitterly.

  Merlyn turned in the darkness to look at him sharply. He sounded suspiciously final. She could feel herself beginning to panic at that realisation. 'It wasn't your fault,' she excused quickly. 'We can't continue to avoid all the places you went to with Suzie—'

  'I took you there deliberately,' he put in abruptly, his face granite-hard in profile.

  Her panic rose to desperation. 'It was a very nice restaurant—'

  'I took you there to see if I could bear to be anywhere with you that I was with Suzie,' he cut in cruelly.

  Merlyn swallowed hard. 'And?' she prompted as she had in the restaurant.

  'And I can't bear it.' His reply was pained.

  Merlyn swallowed hard, starting to feel dizzy. 'Rand, you—'

  The coldness in his eyes as he glanced at her briefly instantly silenced her. 'Something James said to me today made me realise—'

  'James?' She was instantly on her guard. But surely James hadn't broken her confidence and revealed to Rand their conversation earlier today?

  'Yes.' Rand's eyes had narrowed. 'He and Anne like you, and they're afraid I may be— using you.'

  'Surely that is for me to decide?' she defended heatedly, realising that while James hadn't betrayed her confidence he had put doubts in Rand's mind.

  'Do you feel used?'

  Did she? Sometimes. But not as much as she had at first. She loved Rand, so it didn't matter. Most of the time. Tonight had been different because she had allowed Mark's comments to get to her.

  But she could see that Rand had taken her silence as acquiescence, his expression grim. 'Rand, you've been married before, it's only natural that you—'

  'I still love my wife, Merlyn,' he interrupted harshly. 'The other night when I asked why you put up with me you said it was because of sexual attraction. Were you telling the truth?'

  She forced a dismissive laugh that somehow came out as a choked rasp. 'Haven't I proved how attracted I am to you?'

  Rand sighed, his hands gripping the steering-wheel so tightly the knuckles showed white. 'You've always been very passionate, even the night I took your virginity.'

  'What?' He couldn't have just said that, he couldn't!

  His mouth was thinned so tautly a white ring of tension encircled his lips. 'When we—made love that night I had no idea, it was only later that I—'

  'When?' she demanded emotionally.

  He shook his head. 'I really didn't know that night. I'd never been with a virgin before; Suzie was living with someone when I met her, and the women I'd known up until that time weren't the type to—I didn't know that night,' he insisted gruffly.

  'When?' she demanded again, her voice shrill.

  'As Anne pointed out, your—your lip was a mess, and I'd assumed all the blood—After you left with Anne I took another look. There was too much—I couldn't believe what I was seeing,' he groaned. 'It took me several days to get up the nerve, but I came over to the hotel to apologise—'

  'No!' Merlyn gave a choked cry as she knew the dream that had haunted her for so long hadn't been a dream at all.

  He breathed raggedly. 'Your door was unlocked, I just slipped inside to talk to you. You were asleep, or at least you seemed asleep when I first came in. You looked so young. I bent down to smooth the hair back from your cheek, and—'

  'And then you made love to me!'

  He shook his head. 'You put your arms up about my neck, called my name. It was dark in the room, I thought you were awake, that you wanted me as I suddenly wanted you again, so badly. It was only later, afterwards—You seemed to be in some sort of delirium. I thought you had wanted me too, and you didn't even know what had happened!'

  Oh, she had known, she just hadn't known who! 'Is that the reason you finally agreed to let me star in the film?' she slowly gasped. 'A guilty conscience!'

  Colour darkened his cheeks. 'Drake had made it clear he intended making the film anyway, and I—I never meant to come near you again, and I wouldn't have done if something hadn't happened and I—I needed you. I realise that's no excuse, but—'

  'You're right, it isn't.' She was hurt and confused by the admissions he had made, deliberately banishing from her mind the reason he had needed her that day. He had known she was a virgin that first night since the day after it had happened, and he had said nothing! And he had left her with the haunting memory of their lovemaking, not knowing if she had dreamt it or not. 'You implied that you thought Christopher was my lover,' she reminded him accusingly. 'Another salve for your conscience?'

  'I realise I was wrong about his being your lover before you met me, but afterwards—'

  'Afterwards?' she spat out. 'I was too stunned by having taken you as a lover to want another one! Promiscuity has never interested me—'

  'When you came to me that first time you did it out of pity—'

  'I did it out of love,' she defended her actions vehemently, her eyes flashing with green sparks. 'I loved you then, and I—'

  'No!' His denial was an anguished cry, his face very pale in the moonlight. 'I don't want your love. I don't want any woman's love.'

  'I know that,' Merlyn said with quiet dignity. 'But I can't turn the emotion off just because you don't want it. I love you, and tonight—tonight you've hurt me more badly than I ever dreamt possible.' He didn't want her, had made it clear she could never even marginally replace his wife. And worst of all, he had only agreed to let her star in the film as a salve to his conscience. All this time he had let her go on thinking he didn't believe her. And she would never forgive him for not revealing the truth about that day in her hotel room.

  'I know just how much I've hurt you,' he acknowledged harshly. 'That's why this has to end.'

  ' "This" being our affair?' scorned Merlyn bitterly.

  'Yes.'

  Tears glazed her eyes, and she felt as if a knife had been thrust between her breasts, but she agreed with him; it had to end. She wasn't a masochist, and there was only so much she could do to fight a memory. Where once she had admired and respected Suzie Forrester she now thought she hated her.

  'Consider it over,' Merlyn uttered brokenly.

  Rand's eyes gleamed silver in the subdued lighting outside the hotel as he brought the car to a halt, leaving the engine running as he turned to look at her. 'Just like t
hat?' he said gruffly.

  She stiffened into a straight-backed position, conscious of his arm resting on the back of his seat as he turned sideways to look at her. 'My father is an orthopaedic surgeon, and he's always told me that a nice clean break is always best. I'm sure that must apply to hearts as well as bones,' she added, her voice bitter.

  'Merlyn—'

  'No—don't touch me!' She shied out of reach of his hands.

  Rejected, they clenched into fists before dropping back to his sides. 'I never meant to hurt you, Merlyn.'

  'Then why did you?' Her voice was flat, emotionless.

  He shook his head. 'Probably because hurting people is what I do best!'

  She looked at him probingly, suddenly concerned at how pale he was. 'Rand—'

  He straightened in his seat with a finality that cut short her questioning. 'You only have another week of filming here,' he stated. 'I think it would be better for everyone if I were to go to London and stay there for that time.'

  Better for him, because then he could forget he had ever known a little virgin named Merlyn Summers. And better for her because she wouldn't have to die a little each time she saw him. 'This is goodbye, then,' she said abruptly.

  Rand's mouth tightened, a nerve pulsing in his jaw. 'Yes.'

  She winced, her hands starting to shake as she held back the tears. 'No age-old platitudes now either?' she said self-derisively.

  He drew in a harsh breath, his eyes pained. 'You are such a beautiful woman—'

  'No more,' she requested shakily, the Summers sense of dignity she had drawn on so much during her relationship with Rand once again coming to her rescue. If Rand ever thought of her she wanted him to remember the good times. And there had been some of them, no matter how much he might wish there hadn't. 'You'll turn my head with your compliments,' she dismissed lightly. 'I wish you luck in your future life, Rand.' Her voice began to tremble emotionally. 'I'd wish you happiness too, but I don't think you'll ever find that when you're living your life with a ghost!'

  'Merlyn—'

  'I'm not going to apologise for saying that,' she warned him. 'You are living with a ghost.'