He chuckled. "You did?"
"Well, okay, Cloud did."
"Shaun gave you the right horse."
She patted her mount. "He's lovely."
Mark's horse threw his head and cavorted, but Mark held him easily. "Dante' wants to run. Race you home?"
"You'll give Cloud heart failure," she protested.
"Nonsense, he's good for it."
The prospect of another wild gallop excited Carrin, and she nodded. Mark slackened his reins, and she dug her heels into Cloud's flanks. The big grey leapt ahead, and she flew with the wind as the grass blurred beneath his thundering hooves. In minutes, they had left the herd behind, and raced over the rolling grass. Cloud kept up with Mark's mount, and they clattered into the stable yard together. Grooms ran up to take the horses, and Mark joined Carrin as she slid from Cloud's back. He looked relaxed, his eyes sparkling. Carrin's legs wobbled, and she leant against Cloud's warm flank.
Mark chuckled. "Walking like a cowboy already?"
"I've been in the saddle all day."
"Great, isn't it?"
"Yes." She smiled, her heart filled with so much love that she thought it would burst. For a moment, she was able to forget about Helen and the web of intrigue that seemed to shadow Mark Lord, and just enjoy his company. The day had been like a dream, and she had never been so happy. He looked away, apparently disconcerted, and she wondered how much of her feelings had been shining in her eyes. Cursing inwardly, she straightened. Mark gestured in the direction of the ranch.
"Shall we go? You must be dying for a shower and tea."
She nodded.
Mrs Martin waited at the house, her perpetual smile in place. Carrin ran up to her room to shower, then joined Mark for tea. He informed her that scene twenty-eight was complete, then tactfully did not mention it again. Carrin enthused over the ranch, and Mark cocked his head with a slight smile.
"So, you'd like to live on a place like this?"
"I'd love it! I wish I could afford a ranch here, though it doesn't need to be as big as this."
Mark glanced away. "You'll have to write a few more screenplays then."
"Yeah, I guess so. Would you be interested in the lead again?"
He smiled. "If the part suits me. But I don't make that many movies, Carrin. One every couple of years is sufficient."
She sat back, disappointed. "Well, I guess there's no rush. I have a nice little place in Africa."
"You could stay here," he said, and her heart pounded. He glanced at her and hurried on, "As a guest, of course, a friend. You could come for holidays."
Carrin tried to relax. He was so smooth, so charming. Actor! She shrugged. "Maybe."
Leaning forward to choose a cream cake from the selection, she caught him watching her with narrowed eyes. What was going on behind them? Their easy camaraderie earlier had disarmed her, but now she was on guard again, wary of traps and innuendos that might hint at his real reason for being so nice to her. She trusted him about as much as a bucketful of rattlesnakes, and was not taking any chances. Helen's words returned to haunt her. 'He conquers hearts, bodies are too easy.'
Mark had conquered her heart before she had even met him, but he must never know. She no longer believed Janice's assertion that he knew about her feelings. If that was true, he would not bother to be so nice to her. Then there was that other sinister motive, that use he had for her. It was all so complex and confusing. She nibbled on the cake and studied his famous profile as he gazed across the garden. If only dreams came true.
The following morning, Mark supervised the cattle dipping and worming, and Carrin realised that this was why he had come up for the weekend. It was odd that he had not mentioned it when he had invited her, but perhaps it had slipped his mind. She enjoyed watching the cowboys herd the cows into long fenced runways called crushes, where they were anointed with dip and given a dose of worm medicine.
Once medicated, they went into another holding pen. She perched on a railing with Mark, watching the cows pass below. Every now and then he would point out a cow that needed other attention, and at the end of the run it would be singled out for the vet. Each animal had a number clipped to its ear for identification. Here the cowboys had a chance to show off their skills as they roped the beasts and cast them for the vet. The sun blazed down from a cloudless sky, and Mark lent her a cowboy hat that was a little too big for her.
At lunchtime, Mark announced that he had to speak to Shaun, and helped her down from the railings. He disappeared into the dimness of a stable block, and she wandered over to watch the roping. After about ten minutes, Mark re-emerged, looking smug. By that time, everyone was quitting for lunch, and they went back to the ranch house, where Mrs Martin had laid out a spread of wine, cheese, cold meat and salad. Carrin relaxed after the meal and sipped a cool drink. Mark excused himself and sauntered off to the stables, returning about half an hour later. He removed his Stetson and settled into a chair.
"How would you like to go riding this afternoon?"
Carrin shot him a surprised glance. "What about the cattle dipping?"
"Shaun and Bert can take care of that. They don't need me to tell them what to do. In fact, they probably know more about cattle than I do. They just let me act like the boss when I'm here."
"Then you didn't come here to supervise the cattle?"
He shook his head. "No, of course not." He hesitated. "I just needed a break, that's all."
Right, Carrin thought, and it was just a coincidence that he needed a break on the same weekend that she was here. He inspected his Stetson, then glanced up.
"So, do you want to go riding?"
She shrugged, acting casual. "Sure, why not?"
"Good." He smiled. "I have a surprise for you."
Carrin's suspicions were immediately aroused, and her mind whirled with possible surprises as she followed him to the stables. Mark stopped in the cool, hay-scented aisle, and she looked at him.
"Okay, bring him out, Shaun," he called.
Carrin glanced around at the thud of hooves. Shaun emerged from one of the stalls, leading the golden palomino she had seen running free in the paddocks. He was saddled and bridled, and his coat glowed in the soft light. Carrin went over to him and stroked his sleek, arched neck. The horse snuffled her, nibbling her sleeve.
"He's beautiful," she murmured, turning to smile at Mark. "You're sure I can ride him?"
"He's yours."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm giving him to you. Shaun said that you liked him, so he's yours."
Carrin shook her head. "Oh, no, you can't. I mean, I like all your horses."
"But you especially admired Sirius."
"Yes." She frowned. "But I can't accept such a valuable gift."
"Why not? We're friends, aren't we? I have more than enough horses."
"But... I may never come back here."
Mark raised a brow. "I was hoping that this would persuade you to."
Carrin turned away to stroke Sirius. Why, she wanted to shout at him. Why do you want me to come back here? Why are you being so damned nice to me? What do you want? There was only one way to find out, and that was to play along. If she confronted him with the fact that she knew he had something planned for her, he would only deny it. She gave him her brightest smile.
"Thank you. He's lovely."
It sounded cold and insincere, but she did not care. He seemed pleased, and Shaun handed her Sirius' reins as Mark led his iron-grey out of the stall. They mounted and rode out into the rolling hills. Sirius was calm and responsive; a steady, surefooted mount with comfortable gaits and a rocking chair canter. Mark watched her with that slight, superstar smile, and she resented the implication that she had gone along with his plans. At the same time, riding with him was exciting.
Carrin remembered a Western in which Mark had played an outlaw, and imagined that she rode with the fictitious villain. She wished the ride would never end, and that he was a simple, uncomplicated man. When the white stables cam
e into sight, the daydream ended as cold reality robbed her of her dreamy happiness.
Mark suggested a swim, but Carrin opted to watch the last of the cattle being dipped. Once again he seemed amused, but pleased with her choice, and joined her on the railings.
Carrin was surprised to find candles and roses on the dinner table when she entered the dining room that evening. Mark looked a little embarrassed.
"Mrs Martin's idea."
The housekeeper served the first course, and as Carrin sliced the tender beef, she decided to do a little digging. Perhaps she could trick Mark into revealing his motives. The question that had been bothering her for some time sprang into her mind, but she hedged a little first.
"How's Janice?"
"Janice?" He looked surprised. "She's fine. Everyone's fine."
"Are you serious about her?"
"Janice?" This time he looked amazed. "I'm not even interested in her. Whatever gave you that idea?"
"You go out with her."
"Oh, well, that's just publicity. I took her to a fund-raiser."
Carrin's brows rose. "She gave me the impression -"
"She would." Mark sliced his meat with unnecessary vigour, frowning.
A surge of pity for the actress went through Carrin. "But I'm sure she cares for you."
"The only person Janice cares about is herself. If she has any designs on me, it's only to try and land herself a famous actor."
A woman beater, too, Carrin wanted to add, and wondered if Janice knew about his violent tendencies. The memory of Helen's battered face momentarily spoilt her appetite. As she was trying to banish the image, Mark asked, "Is that why you wouldn't go out with me? Because you thought Janice was after me?"
"No." She snapped, annoyed. "And I didn't think she was; I know she is."
"Okay. But surely, if I was interested in her, I wouldn't have asked you?"
"People like you like to play the field."
His brows rose. "People like me?"
"Superstars, celebrities."
"Ah. Well we're not all the same, you know. Please don't compare me to a superficial person like Janice."
Carrin privately agreed. "So why did you want to go out with me? Is it in fashion to date the writer as well as your co-star?"
Mark glanced at her sharply. "No." He hesitated, looking away. "I thought we got along well together."
She quelled a sigh. Her fishing expedition was futile, it seemed, even though she had used shark bait. He was as slippery as an eel, and an expert in evasion.
To her surprise, he elaborated, "We have a lot in common, you and I. A love for horses and the country, good movies, genuine friends, privacy."
"If you like privacy so much, why did you become an actor?"
He smiled. "I was very young when I started out, just nineteen. I thought fame and fortune, glitz and glamour would make me happy."
"It didn't?"
"No. It's a lonely life. I have few close friends, like Ollie and Simon. Most are just acquaintances; superficial people looking for excitement, or wanting a bit of fame to rub off on them. It's hard to weed out the genuine people from the hangers on. I know that you're genuine. The limelight scares you, doesn't it?"
Carrin answered without thinking. "No, it doesn't, but I'm not seeking it either."
Mark's gaze sharpened, making her uneasy. "I thought that was the reason you made up that story to turn down my dinner invitation. You gave me the impression you didn't like all the publicity."
"No. Well, partly." Carrin flogged her flagging brain for a better answer. He was so quick! Her anger flared. Too damned slick. He had probably done this before, like a lawyer cross-examining a witness. Raising her eyes, she glared at him. "My reasons are my own business. I don't owe you an explanation."
Mark sat back, his eyes narrowing. A slow smile tugged at his mouth. "I guess not. Curiosity killed the cat. I don't like secrets, and you're a deep pool whose depths I can't plumb, but I intend to get to the bottom of it."
Carrin stared at him, struck by this dangerous, dark side to him. He was used to getting what he wanted; he used people and tossed them aside when he grew bored with them. Like a child with too many toys, he was unable to choose a favourite. Was this the real Mark Lord, the one she had been warned about? Was the kind, gentle man just a facade? She had turned over a rock and found a snake, now she did not know whether to fight or run. From the look in his eyes, she knew that the gauntlet had been thrown down. She had defied the immense charm and charisma of a superstar, and by doing so, challenged him. She sat back, her appetite gone. Mrs Martin removed Carrin's half-eaten dinner, looking a little worried.
Mark consumed his crème brulée with slow deliberation, and she wanted to run to the safety of her room. When Mrs Martin had cleared away the dishes, Carrin stood up.
"I'm tired. It's been a long day, so I think I'll go to bed."
Mark rose and walked around the table, and she wanted to back away from the intense magnetism of his proximity. "Come for a night cap first."
Carrin hated the change in him. "Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"This."
Mark smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's lovely on the veranda, let's get some air." He took her wrist in a gentle grip and led her towards the door. Shivers went through her at his touch. If he was trying to prove that he could seduce her, she was sure that she could not resist him.
Outside, he turned to her. "What are you trying so hard to hide from me?"
"Nothing. It's not a crime to turn down a dinner invitation, is it?"
"Maybe it is, if you don't have a reason. But you do have a reason, don't you?" He raised a hand to trace the curve of her cheek.
Carrin remembered Helen's battered face and suppressed a shudder. She stepped back, only to find a wall behind her. He placed his other hand on the wall beside her head.
"Tell me, Carrin."
Mark's voice caressed her name, and his eyes were midnight pools. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, so close, yet for her, forbidden. The dim light softened his famous features, which she had studied and sketched until she knew them as intimately as if she had caressed them a hundred times. She could hardly breathe, and her pounding heart made her dizzy. His fingers lingered on her cheek, then cupped her chin. As he leant closer, desperation took hold of her. If he kissed her, she would be lost. Her bones seemed to be turning to jelly.
The rage that had been born from, and eased her through, her hard life, saved her. Cold fury swamped her, and she slapped him. Mark jerked back in surprise, allowing her to slip under his arm and run into the garden. Safely hidden amongst the bushes, she sank down on a wooden bench. Sorrow quenched her anger. How could he? Did he know how close he had come to making a complete fool out of her?
Had he done that, she would not have been able to bear his scornful mockery. She did not want to lose his friendship, it was too important to her. Without it, her life would be empty and meaningless. If her secret was discovered, however, she would have to go back to Africa, rather than face the humiliation of his ridicule.
Her heart ached as she remembered the bittersweet moment. If only it had been real. Having him so close had been unbearable. The longing to slide her arms around him and surrender to his charm had almost overwhelmed her. Did his plans require that she be in love with him? Was that why her rejection had annoyed him so much? Was that why he had brought her here and tried to seduce her? Or was it, as Helen had said, that he merely wanted to conquer her heart?
Afraid that he would come in search of her, she rose and walked away into the gathering dusk. Her steps led her to the stables, and she sought a golden horse. Sirius snuffled her when she entered his stall, and she put her arms around his neck and buried her face in his silken mane. Sirius whickered, but stood still, as if sensing that she needed his neck to lean on. After a while, her despair ebbed, leaving her cold and numb. Carrin released the palomino, which went back to pulling hay from the rack. In the darkness,
surrounded by the sweet earthy smell of horses and their quiet, wholesome presence, she found calmness again.
Well, she had won this battle, at least. No doubt he had expected her to succumb to his charms, as so many had done before her. He had failed, however. Her inbred stubbornness had rescued her in the nick of time. Slapping his face might not have been such a good idea, she reflected. It might also have ruined their friendship, but at least she still had her dignity. She replayed that moment over and over in her mind. The warmth of his proximity, so close, yet so unbearably out of reach. Much as she longed to hold him, it was his heart that she truly yearned to touch, as he had touched hers. That, she would never do, she was certain. Years of meaningless relationships with cold, ambitious women had turned his heart to stone.
Carrin roused from her reverie stiff and cold, crouched in the corner of Sirius' stable. She rose and stretched, discovering that one of her legs had gone to sleep. With a grateful pat, she left the gelding and hobbled through the stable as feeling returned to her numb limb. By the time she reached the garden, the limp was gone. She mounted the steps to the veranda, where the double glass doors stood open.
A shadow stepped out in front of her, and she recoiled. The darkness made Mark's face a mystery of pale features and shadowed eyes. She backed away, unsure of his mood. He held out a hand.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."
She stopped, staring at him.
He sighed and lowered his hand. "I expect you're angry with me, and I don't blame you. It was a stupid thing to do, I know. For a moment there I forgot how different you are, and I'm truly sorry."
Carrin could hardly believe her ears. He moved closer, reaching out as if to touch her shoulder, and she stepped back, out of range. He raised his hands in a gesture of reassurance.
"It's okay, I've learnt my lesson." He turned aside and leant on the veranda railing. "I feel like an idiot. I should have known better than to try and pull a stunt like that on you, and I got what I deserved. I'll try to explain, and I hope you understand." He paused, staring into the darkness.
"I hate secrets. In my youth, before I learnt what most of the women who run after movie stars are like, I fell into many traps. Ambitious women played me like a trump card. All they wanted was the glory of sharing the spotlight, and getting their names attached to mine. Oh, sure, they wanted to marry me. Some swore undying love and devotion, but, when I didn't propose fast enough, they ran off with a better prospect. That was, of course, before I became really well known. Now there aren't many better prospects."
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