Merlyn's Magic. Кэрол Мортимер

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!'