‘I’m not in love with her!’ he ground out thickly, but the blaze of passion in his normally cool, grey eyes told a different story. ‘I detest the little bitch! She walked out on me, humiliated me, made me ‘ He broke off, his face running with betraying colour, and got his emotions under control, his mouth tightening. ‘I’m sorry, I’m handling this badly,’ he said, after a second. ‘It’s the shock of running into her unexpectedly, of hearing all that venom from her. But don’t worry, Christie. I’m not in love with Nessa any more, and I fully intend to go through with my marriage to you. All right?’
‘Go through with it?’ She made a wry face. ‘You make it sound like a prison sentence!’
‘Hell, I didn’t mean it to sound like that.’ He slung his right arm caringly around her and squeezed her close against him for a brief moment, kissing the top of her head. ‘You know I love you, darling. You know I’m sincere when I say I want to marry you. I may have a few problems dealing with Nessa over this weekend- but you mustn’t let them affect our relationship. All right?’
She frowned, drawing back to look into his eyes. ‘Do you think she’s going to try and get at you, then? More than she did just now?’
‘I’m fairly sure she will,’ he responded tightly, pain in his eyes. ‘But it’s all in the past, remember? Everything we were saying on the drive up here still stands.’
‘About dark, destructive love?’ Her eyes scanned his. ‘Is that who Nessa was for you, Simon? The Grand Passion? The one you can’t forget?’
He gave a shaky laugh. ‘I guess so. But isn’t that who Jared Buchanan is for you? I mean—I’m not the only one around here who’s going to have trouble this weekend from an old flame!’
She paled again, saying, ‘I’ve already met up with him. On the balcony. I—I’ve had my first argument of the weekend with him. With any luck, there might not be any more. If I keep my head, don’t let my feelings get the better of me.’
‘Think you can manage it?’ he asked, concerned.
‘I can try!’ she said with a bitter laugh. ‘I’ll just keep telling myself that old Hollywood saying! Behind every successful woman is a man who broke her heart! Come on, Simon—’ she caught at his hand with a need to change the subject ‘—let’s go out on to the terrace and start as we mean to go on: together.’
He gave a wry smile, and they strolled, hand in hand, across the marble hallway, across the ante-room, and out on to the hot stone terrace where the Californian sun still burnt bright in a halcyon blue sky while waiters moved among the guests handing out frozen margaritas.
Across by the white Roman statues and the glim- mering blue pool stood Jared, magnificent in a black suit, his dark head bent to smile into Nessa Vale’s eyes.
Jealousy ripped through Christie. Was it true that Jared had told Nessa terrible things about her? About how she behaved sexually? God, it didn’t bear thinking of! Her hand shook as she took a frozen margarita from a passing waiter, sipping the crushed ice drink of tequila, lime juice and triple sec, struggling not to notice how close Jared stood to Nessa, or how his dark eyes moved with desire over her thin red lips.
‘How long were you involved with her?’ she asked, turning to Simon, turning her back on Jared so she would no longer have to see him with that other woman.
Simon looked up, his face suddenly tense and his body still.
‘Simon, talk to me, please!’ she said fiercely. ‘I don’t want to think about Jared or how close he’s standing to—’
‘Yes, of course.’ He stared at her, blinking rapidly. ‘Well, let me see now… I first met Nessa… when was it? I can’t quite remember how we met or where. Or can I? Maybe I need a little time to think—’
‘Dinner is served!’ the tall Californian waiter boomed from the double doors which opened on to the dining- room.
People greeted this announcement with smiles and laughter and began moving towards the double doors.
‘We mustn’t discuss this at dinner,’ Simon murmured to Christie. ‘It would be disastrous if anyone overheard. But I promise you we will discuss it, some time this weekend. OK, Christie? OK?’
She gave a deep sigh. ‘Fine! Just get me through this wretched weekend without any emotional traumas, and stick close to me at all times!’
‘Come on, kid!’ he smiled. ‘Chin up! We’ve been though rougher times than this over the last three years! And we’ll get through this weekend, so long as we re- member how much we want calm, mature love—not dark, destructive passion.’
‘Yes…I must remember that at all times. All times…’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jared moving towards them with Nessa at his side. ‘Quick! Let’s go into the dining-room before they get close to us!’
Simon smiled tensely down at her, put an elegant arm around her slim shoulders, and rapidly led her off the terraced pool area way ahead of Jared and Nessa.
The dining-room was as superb as the rest of the house. Fifty-feet long with a forty-foot-high ceiling, it posi- tively groaned under the weight of art deco chandeliers, magnificent polished redwood-panelled walls, and a stunning set of oil paintings of famous film stars of the heyday of Hollywood—the twenties and thirties. Christie noticed Greta Garbo staring enigmatically from one wall, Marilyn Monroe incandescently beautiful on another and Clark Gable dominating as the King of Hollywood, dressed as Rhett Butler and leaning rakishly against a tall white plinth.
‘Everyone has a place-card with their name on it,’ Millie announced as they entered the dining-room. ‘Just look for your name and you’ll find the people you’re sitting with.’
Christie’s heart sank. She exchanged horrified glances with Simon. Behind her, she sensed Jared stride into the dining-room, narrowed eyes flicking around in search of his place-setting. He stopped abruptly, a hard look tightening his handsome face.
He lifted his dark head, eyes glittering with anger. ‘How very thoughtful of Millie! It seems Miss McCall is sitting beside me tonight!’
Christie caught her breath, shooting a furious look at Millie.
‘Am I sitting on the other side of you, Jared?’ Nessa asked in her icy New York voice.
But Simon was already striding angrily to the other side of the table, staring down at the name places in the shape of black-white clapperboards. ‘No. I’m afraid I’m your dinner partner for the evening, Nessa.’
The four of them stood there, each aware that Millie had brought them together deliberately, hoping to enjoy for herself the passionate undercurrents that would in- evitably whirl out in a cross-current between the four of them, causing jealousy, rage, desire and hatred over the next forty-eight hours.
CHAPTER FOUR
ALL around them people talked, laughed and drank. Uniformed waiters poured chilled Californian Chardonnay. Gold-plated cutlery flashed under the lights and Christie wondered suddenly if she were in a film but had lost her place in the script or had been miscast, be- cause the situation was quite beyond her.
‘Christie,’ Jared said sardonically, ‘you’d better come and take your place beside me.’ His dark eyes flicked to the others. ‘I advise you two to follow suit and fall in with our hostess’s wishes.’
Jared, if nothing else, knew how to behave.
Pulling herself together, Christie showed her own good manners and style as she lifted her head high, pinned a smile to her face, and walked with a sensual, unhurried sway to Jared. He gave a hard, grudging smile of ad- miration, his dark eyes flickering with sexual appre- ciation over her body as he held her chair out for her and watched her sink down on to it.
‘Beautifully done,’ he murmured against her ear, standing behind her, dark head bent. ‘Keep it up all weekend, and the role of Lelie will be yours for the taking. Didn’t I tell you you were a consummate professional?’
‘No need to tell me, Jared,’ she murmured tensely. ‘Surely I’ve already proved it to the whole world?’
‘Certainly with those articles about you,’ he drawled, sitting down beside her. ‘What’s th
at old saying about the oldest profession in the world…?’
‘I told you those stories were lies.’
‘So you did.’ He flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his dark cuff, a cool smile on his cynical mouth.
Christie looked at him angrily through her lashes. So this was how it would be. Impeccable behaviour in public; hostility and malice in private. And sooner or later the two would begin to spill over into each other, leaving Christie stranded on location with a film crew to watch her personal destruction at the hands of the man she loved.
‘Good pre-publicity, as a matter of fact,’ Jared mur- mured lazily, watching her, knowing he was needling her badly and enjoying every second of it. ‘The Press office could work a nice little tie-in. Something about you being the perfect choice to play Lelie, because—well, just look at your personal past.’
‘I wouldn’t allow that kind of publicity.’
‘You wouldn’t be able to stop it.’ His dark brows rose with cool awareness of his own power. ‘And if you threaten to sue, I might even have it written into your contract.’
‘I’ve already signed my new contract,’ she countered, heart thudding fast with fear and anger, already seeing that golden, glittering prize dancing out of her reach. ‘You can’t tear it up and start again.’
‘No, but I can fire you if you try to block my publicity machine.’
Christie sat very still, breathing hard, her hands balled into fists under the elegant table.
‘Ever been fired from a picture, Chris?’ Jared mur- mured softly in her ear. ‘Course you haven’t. Con- summate professional like you. You’d do anything to get the part of Lelie—and anything to keep it.’
She couldn’t believe how quickly this was escalating. Was he really going to demand that kind of publicity for the film, pre-release? And what else would he demand? What else…?
Suddenly, the waiter was beside her, serving piping hot clam chowder from a silver tureen. She stared at it fixedly, her eyes fierce blue with shock and anger, while her mind turned over and over the question, what would she have to do to get the part of Lelie?
She didn’t want to answer that. She was afraid of coming face to face with her own self-respect and finding out that she would rather be able to live with herself than join the Hollywood legends in immortality.
Marilyn Monroe was on the wall far away, smiling through a haze of blonde ambition, and Christie thought, I’ll never join her on that wall if Jared brings push to shove. Maybe he had been right years ago when he’d said she wasn’t tough enough for Hollywood. She cer- tainly wasn’t tough enough to fight Jared with his own weapons and win.
‘What else will I demand from you?’ Jared murmured smilingly beside her, one long finger stroking his hard mouth. ‘Let me see…’
‘For the role of Lelie?’ she found her voice saying. ‘Don’t demand too much, Jared. I may not want to play her any more.’
‘You’d kill your own grandmother to play that part!’
‘As my grandmother is already dead, I think—’
‘You know exactly what I mean.’
‘Really? Do explain.’ She sipped the chilled Chardonnay in the elegant crystal glass, but her hand was shaking.
‘All right,’ Jared said flatly. ‘You and I both know that your ambition is the single biggest motivational force you’ve got. Lelie is the role that could put you at the top of the tree forever. It could win you best actress. It could make you, quite simply, into the most bankable star in Hollywood. So don’t try to pretend you don’t want it!’
Christie stared down at her soup. She might never achieve the fame she desired if she let Jared get to her. But then again—how could she stop him getting to her when she was quite clearly still in love with him?
‘That’s what you’ve dedicated your life to pursuing, isn’t it?’ Jared said tersely, watching her, unaware of her thoughts. ‘Fame, fortune, a slice of immortality. Well, congratulations. It’s within reach. All you have to do is—
‘Lie to you,’ she cut in, looking at him bitterly. ‘Tell you I’m a mercenary, manipulative little cheat with the morals of an alley cat.’
‘Why not?’ he said bitingly. ‘It’s what you are!’
Christie put her soup spoon down with a clatter, her mouth a tight, white line of rage.
‘No need to be ashamed of it,’ drawled Jared mock- ingly. ‘Most men find your type of woman very exciting. And I’m no exception. I’m a man like any other—I’d enjoy taking you to bed again. Particularly now that I feel nothing but lust for that sexy little body of yours.’ He laughed, eyes cynical as they flickered over her. ‘I’m only too well aware that you could show me a very good time if I made it worth your while.’
‘How very kind of you to say so! But if all you feel is lust—why are you being so vengeful?’
Jared’s black lashes flickered, and he looked away, saying thickly, ‘Because three years ago I was stupid enough to think what I felt was love. OK, I’m angry about it, but that can be changed if you just admit your true nature.’ He looked back at her, arching black brows. ‘Tell me honestly that I’m right, that you did use me to further your career, and that you’re now using Simon Mordant—and I’ll give you the part.’
‘You seriously expect me to lie to you like that?’ she demanded bitterly. ‘To pretend I’m a callous, heart- less little—’
‘It’s what you are,’ he cut in harshly. ‘And if you admit to it, we can find a way to call an armed truce. Then you’ll get the role you want, and I’ll get the actress I want. Fair’s fair, Chris. It’s not—’
‘Don’t you dare call me Chris!’ she said hoarsely, sipping her wine, her face flushed with angry emotion. ‘Don’t you ever call me Chris again.’
He looked startled. ‘What…?’
‘You heard me. I won’t let you call me Chris. I can’t stand to hear that nickname on your lips.’
‘Why?’ His smile grew barbed. ‘Don’t tell me it brings back fond memories, because you and I both know the truth about that!’
‘The truth?’ She gave an angry laugh, putting her glass down. ‘You wouldn’t know the truth if it came up and bit you!’
‘Keep your voice down!’
‘No, I will not, you vicious swine! I’ve had just about enough of this!’ She pushed her chair back suddenly, making everyone in the room stare at her.
Jared’s hand clamped over her wrist as he stared up at her, almost breathless with a combination of shock and rage. ‘What the hell are you doing? Sit down!’
‘I don’t have to sit here and listen to this!’ she said softly, keeping her voice low, smiling at him as she spoke. ‘Not for Lelie, not for best actress, and certainly not for you!’
‘If this is some kind of game—’
‘It’s not a game! It’s the truth! I thought that was what you wanted? Shall I say it louder so everyone can hear?’
‘No, damn it, and if you don’t sit down right away you’ll be out of the casting list for good!’
‘Now there’s a threat!’ she whispered, feeling that inner conflict rise up and fight, her ambition struggling against her emotional needs. That golden, glittering dream was being overshadowed and instead of thinking, I have to have that role, all Christie could think was, he doesn’t love me, he never loved me, he never really loved me…
She felt as though the world had gone crazy, and she was left in a topsy-turvy city where houses and buildings and trees were sliding all over an ever-shifting landscape where ambition simply could not do anything, ambition was suddenly a gun with a flower in it instead of a bullet.
‘Anything wrong?’ Millie cooed from the head of the table.
‘Just a little disagreement,’ Christie said, lifting her head, not giving a damn what Millie or anyone else thought of her. ‘Mr Buchanan and I have such very dif- ferent interpretations of Lelie’s character.’
Jared gave a dry laugh. ‘And Miss McCall is such a fiery actress! All temperament and no prima donna— the per
fect choice for the role!’
‘Definitely!’ Mike Camarra drawled, watching them with narrowed eyes from his vantage point beside them, no doubt privy to a great deal of what they had said. ‘And I’m glad you brought the subject up so soon, Christie. It needs a great deal of discussion before we start auditions. You’ve read the script?’
‘Of course,’ she murmured shakily, sitting down again and giving Mike a radiant smile. However emotional she got with Jared, Mike Camarra was still her boss, this was still her career, and she was not going to throw it all away, even if she had to eventually drop her am- bitions to play Lelie. ‘It’s an excellent script, and I’m very, very interested in playing it. Thank you for of- fering it to me.’
Jared laughed beside her, drawling under his breath, ‘Good volte-face, Chris! And I thought for a second you might be genuine!’
Angrily, she flushed, but did not turn her attention back to him.
‘I see you in the first scene,’ Mike Camarra was saying, smoking a cigar as the soup was cleared away, ‘walking barefoot on a beach, wearing nothing but a tight, shabby red dress.’
‘Shabby,’ Jared murmured, eyes mocking Christie.
She tried to ignore him, but what she wanted to do was throw her soup over him. Luckily, the waiters began clearing the soup away at that moment, saving him from a face full of excellent clam chowder.
‘And an overdub,’ Mike continued, ‘of your thoughts.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Jared drawled, ‘what are her first lines in that scene? You’ve read the script, Christie. Why not perform for us now?’
Looking angrily at him, she lifted her head and quoted direct from the script, ‘"I must be famous, I must get there, no matter what it takes, who I have to trample on, use, abuse, hurt or destroy…”’
His hard, handsome face surveyed her with hatred. But she saw a glimmer of pain in his jet-black eyes that wrenched at her heart, made her want to suddenly fling herself into his arms, whispering that it wasn’t true, she wasn’t like that, had always loved him, still loved him, always would love him. Talk about a volte-face, she thought bitterly. Am I going mad, or am I just a fool?
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