Merlyn's Magic Read online

  Last night was going to be buried as far back in her memory as she could push it, never to be thought or talked about again. 'Nothing,' she bit out. 'Let's just say this trip was a mistake, that I failed in what I set out to do, and leave it at that.'

  'If that's what you want,' Anne agreed slowly. 'But once Brandon's anger has calmed down—'

  'I'm the one who's angry, Anne,' she cut in forcefully. 'And I certainly won't change my mind!' Nothing was worth the humiliation she had suffered at Rand Carmichael's hands.

  'I'm sorry,' the other woman said with genuine regret. 'Still, that doesn't have to stop your staying on at the hotel with us for a few days; I'd like to get to know you after we spoke so much on the telephone.'

  And Merlyn just wanted to get away from here and never think of Rand Carmichael again! But Anne had been friendly and kind to her from their first telephone conversation, and maybe if she just stayed on overnight and left in the morning it would placate the other woman.

  'Maybe I will.' She didn't commit herself to the few days Anne had mentioned, turning to stare out of the window, making a determined effort to admire the spectacular countryside about her that hadn't been visible yesterday through the fog and the rain. High mountains dipped down into lush green valleys as far as the eye could see, and in those valleys Merlyn knew the lakes would be nestled, trees growing along their edge in abundance.

  'Here we are,' Anne said with satisfaction as she turned the Range Rover into a narrow driveway much like the ones Merlyn had taken by accident the day before, the scent of pine from the towering trees surrounding them coming in through the partly-opened window next to Anne.

  A long sprawling building much like a very large log cabin stood gracefully beside a large lake, its mellowed pine structure giving an air of warmth and beauty even before one entered.

  'It's lovely!' Merlyn told her incredulously, seeing by the pleased expression on the other woman's face that her impulsive praise was appreciated.

  'James designed and organised the building of it all himself.' Anne's pride in her husband's undoubted accomplishment was obvious. 'Come inside and see the rest of it,' she invited.

  The inside was all pine too, warm and mellow, the main building housing all the entertainment, from the two restaurants, the club house, pool and sauna, to the health and beauty salon. And then at the back, not visible from the entrance, were two additional buildings, exact replicas of the main building, attached to it by two totally glass and pine constructed corridors that gave unhindered views of the surrounding mountains. These two outer buildings were the living accommodation, and Anne showed Merlyn to her room herself. The furnishing was more expensively comfortable than anything Merlyn had ever seen, from the thick brown carpets to the soft beige leather suite.

  'James says that if you're going to do something you should always do it with style!' Anne laughed her enjoyment at Merlyn's awe-struck expression.

  'This is style with a capital S!' She sank down on to the quilt-covered bed in the adjoining room to her lounge. 'I can't wait to meet the man who master-minded all this.'

  Anne's eyes glowed merrily. 'Give me a few minutes to change out of these clothes and get back into my "hotel proprietor" garb and then join James and me at the pool for coffee; we usually get together there this time of day. And I know he's looking forward to meeting you, too.'

  Thoughts of Rand were kept firmly at bay as Merlyn unpacked her suitcase, changing into tailored red trousers with their pleated waistline, tapering at the ankle, and a black silk blouse which tucked in at the belted waistline. She looked coolly elegant, and more confident of herself than she had felt since she left home yesterday morning with such high hopes of this visit to the Lake District.

  Yesterday morning? It seemed much longer ago than that, she realised with a suppressed shudder.

  She had no trouble finding her way back to the main building, the whole place geared for simplicity, including finding your way about. She was glad she had chosen to wear a blouse, instead of the jumper the weather called for, as the heat from the pool enveloped her. She seemed to have arrived before Anne, and—

  'Looking for someone?' an amused male voice cut in on her reverie.

  She turned to face the man, feeling as if she could drown in the liquid warmth of his deep brown eyes. Dark hair brushed away from the face of one of the most handsome men Merlyn had ever seen, the white shorts and open T-shirt he wore moulded to the lean fitness of his body. The tennis-racket he carried was indicative of at least one of the ways he maintained that fitness. At any other time she might have felt interested enough to pursue the acquaintance, but not when she was still raw from her encounter with Rand.

  Her smile was coolly dismissive. 'As a matter of fact, I am,' she nodded, her attention returning to the pool where several adults and children were cavorting in the heated water oblivious to the dismal weather outside.

  'Could I offer you a cup of coffee while you wait?' the man suggested, indicating the coffee pot and cups that stood on the table beside them for anyone to help themselves to after their swim. Several tables were placed about the pool's side, the padded chairs around them covered in a restful green material that exactly complimented the abundance of foliage about the room.

  Her smile was frosty this time. 'No, thank you,' she bit out with emphasis.

  'Then perhaps I could—'

  'No!'

  'You must be new here today, I haven't seen you about before,' he smiled pleasantly.

  And she was sure he made a point of meeting all the women young enough to find his looks and charm appealing. He had chosen the wrong woman this time! 'Please,' she sighed her impatience, 'I'm waiting for——'

  'Ah good.' Anne hurried out to her, the design of the royal-blue dress suiting her ample curves perfectly, the high heels on her sandals giving her extra height. 'The two of you have already introduced yourselves.' She beamed her pleasure.

  'No, we—' The man Merlyn was rapidly suspecting of being James Benton returned her gaze with the same dawning realisation. 'Merlyn!' He grinned at her discomfort, holding out his hand.

  She limply returned his firm handshake, deciding that the next stranger she met she would presume was the last person she had suspected; she certainly hadn't even guessed that this was Anne's husband James.

  She grimaced—cringed, actually. 'I'm sorry if I seemed rude to you just now—'

  'You didn't.' He gave her an understanding smile, those brown eyes twinkling merrily.

  'What did you do?' Anne frowned her confusion as they all sat down.

  'What did I do,' her husband corrected ruefully. 'I thought I was playing the concerned hotel manager, and Merlyn thought I was trying to pick her up!'

  Merlyn blushed as he put into words what she had already realised, all of his friendliness a few moments ago made in an effort to make her feel at home. 'It wasn't quite like that. We—'

  Anne grinned at her discomfort too now, sharing a look of intimacy with her husband. 'That makes a change, it's usually the female guests who try to pick James up!'

  Merlyn was well aware of the fact that not by a word or deed had James given the impression he was trying to be more than helpful, that she had just assumed— If Elizabeth Taylor walked in here right now and told her she was Beth Jones she would take her word for it! Her judgment was sadly off beam lately.

  'I really am sorry if I seemed rude to you,' she grimaced at James.

  'Hey, after a run in with Brandon you're entitled to feel a bit jumpy,' he sympathised. 'And I'm not exactly dressed for the part of debonair hotel manager,' he agreed wryly.

  This man would look someone of authority no matter what he did or didn't wear, possessing an animal grace that bespoke confidence in himself and his abilities.

  Merlyn complimented him on the design of the hotel, avoiding the subject of Rand Carmichael and the night she had spent at his house as his unwelcome guest.

  If the truth were known she didn't feel all that well. Her throat
was sore, her nose felt ticklish and irritated, and her head ached. But after the mess she had already made of her visit, she felt the least she owed the Bentons was to be sociable now that she had arrived, joining them for dinner in their private lodge a short distance away from the hotel through the trees.

  Just being with the other couple was enough to show Merlyn how wrong her first impression of James as a flirt really was; the married couple were obviously very much in love, constantly touching with a warmth that bespoke intimacy, their expressions rapt as they gazed into each other's eyes. After the cool respect her parents showed for each other, the Bentons' relationship was quite an eye-opener for her.

  But she felt even more ill by the time James walked her back to her suite, her eyes stinging too now, and she knew it wasn't just from the cold she could feel coming on. Anne and James had the closest, most special relationship she had ever seen, and the nearest Merlyn had ever come to feeling that sort of love herself had been when she looked at Rand Carmichael for the first time and knew she wanted him. And that wasn't the same thing at all.

  'What happened between you and Brandon last night, Merlyn?' James spoke in the darkness.

  Her face drained of all colour, and the pounding in her head became stronger. She swallowed hard. 'He made it clear he doesn't want anyone, least of all me, portraying his wife,' she explained huskily.

  'That was this morning, I'm talking about last night.'

  Merlyn kept her face averted, knowing those deep brown eyes could become hypnotic if she let them, and that beneath the gentleness of his love for Anne he could be as ruthless as the next man. She shrugged. 'What makes you think anything happened?'

  His mouth quirked at her evasion. 'It may have escaped your notice, but the rest of us call him Brandon.'

  'So?' she challenged, having noticed that discrepancy herself, but putting it down to the fact that last night he had wanted to forget who he really was as he made love to her.

  'So you tell me,' James prompted softly.

  'He let me sleep in his spare bedroom because he had no choice,' she dismissed hardly.

  'Is that all?'

  'What else were you expecting?' She forced lightness to her expression as she turned to face him on their entrance to the hotel reception.

  He made a rueful expression. 'Well, I haven't seen too much of Brandon lately; his choice not mine,' James added hardly. 'But he always used to be able to appreciate a beautiful woman.'

  'Appreciate, James?' she mocked with raised brows.

  'Enjoy,' he drawled.

  Her eyes flashed. 'The most enjoyment Rand found with me was this morning when he told me to get out of his life and stay out,' she related bitterly, knowing she spoke the truth. He hadn't found physical release with Merlyn Summers last night, he had made love to Suzie, his wife.

  'I'm sorry.' James took her hand in his. 'He wasn't always like this.' His head shook regretfully. 'The four of us used to have a lot of fun when we were together.'

  'You and Anne, and Rand and Suzie,' Merlyn said abruptly.

  'Yes,' he sighed, seeming lost in thought. 'It feels like another lifetime.'

  Merlyn had no wish to hear about the cosy foursome they had made. 'You had better get back to Anne, she'll be wondering where you are,' prompted Merlyn lightly. 'And I want to get a good night's rest before going back to London tomorrow.'

  'You're sure we can't persuade you to stay on a few more days?' said James regretfully.

  They had been trying all evening, ever since she had told them she would be leaving in the morning. 'No one could do that!' she told James vehemently.

  As it happened it wasn't a someone that prevented her leaving but a something; she woke up in the morning with a raging temperature, a rasping sore throat, and legs that refused to support her to the bathroom let alone all the way back to London!

  The chill she had picked up during her constant dousings when she arrived raged for three days and nights, the fever finally breaking on the third night. She woke up to find Anne sitting beside her bed, the other woman instantly putting down the book she had been reading to bend over her concernedly.

  'How are you feeling?' she probed gently.

  'I hurt,' Merlyn managed to croak. 'All over!'

  'That's to be expected,' Anne nodded, talking softly, seeming to know without being told that any loud noise would hurt Merlyn's throbbing head. 'Can I get you anything?' she prompted.

  Merlyn sipped the cool water Anne helped her sit up to drink, her face deathly pale even from that small effort as she lay back against the pillows.

  'Don't try and talk any more,' Anne encouraged. 'Just go back to sleep. You'll rest properly now that the fever has broken. And you'll want to look your best when Christopher arrives…'

  Merlyn fought the waves of sleep that washed over her, trying desperately to take in what Anne was saying about Christopher. The sleep defeated her.

  She was out of bed and sitting in a chair in the lounge when Christopher arrived the next day, having been admiring the view of the lake out of the long glass doors that opened out on to her small off-the-ground balcony.

  Not knowing who to contact when Merlyn became ill, Anne had finally telephoned Christopher and he had promised to let her parents know she was all right, at the same time informing Anne that he would be down himself once he had finished filming. Merlyn had smiled ruefully when Anne related the last a little indignantly; that sounded like the Christopher she knew and liked, work had to come first.

  Not that they were close enough for her to expect him to come rushing up here to her side anyway. Although Anne seemed to have formed a different opinion, acting as if she were sure Christopher were the love of Merlyn's life, insisting on helping her wash and dry her hair and adding a little make-up to her pale face, and getting out a silky black nightgown for her to put on beneath her robe. The nightgown wiped all the amusement at her new friend's antics from Merlyn's face; it was the one she had worn the night she went to Rand.

  Christopher did little to allay the impression of intimacy between them when he arrived just after lunch, presenting her with roses and chocolates before kissing her lingeringly on the lips. Merlyn didn't need the dusting of blusher Anne had insisted on as colour flooded her cheeks.

  'Nice to see you again, Mrs Benton,' he greeted the other woman warmly, his arm still about Merlyn's shoulders as he sat on the side of her chair.

  Anne returned his smile. 'I'll leave the two of you alone. Please join James and me for afternoon tea once Merlyn has settled down for her nap,' she invited Christopher.

  'She has the makings of a drill-sergeant,' Merlyn said dryly once the other woman had left. 'Do you know that she had me drinking hot milk this morning?' she added disgustedly as Christopher chuckled. 'To build up my strength, she said. It's all I can usually do to take the stuff in tea and coffee!'

  Christopher grinned at her discomfort. 'Did you drink it?'

  'Anne may give the impression of being a cuddly blonde,' Merlyn muttered, 'but underneath that warm exterior beats a heart of pure ice!'

  'You drank it,' laughed Christopher softly.

  Merlyn gave him a disgruntled look. 'She stood over me until I did! But she wouldn't have succeeded if she hadn't caught me at a time when I'm feeling too weak to fight her,' she defended irritably. 'And what about you just now?' She frowned at him. 'You don't usually kiss me hello like that.'

  'I didn't like to disillusion the cute but domineering Mrs Benton,' he said ruefully. 'When she telephoned and told me you were ill and I said I'd come up as soon as I could get away she assumed we were lovers, and I didn't like to disappoint her.'

  'You mean she bullied you into acting out of character too,' Merlyn said with satisfaction.

  'Well…'

  'And you were too frightened of her to tell her your only interest in seeing me was to find out if I had managed to talk to her brother-in-law and persuade him into letting me star in your film!' she accused.

  Christopher arched
dark blond brows. 'You know damn well that isn't my only interest in you,' he drawled. 'You just won't let me pursue my other one!'

  During their brief acquaintance, his efforts to persuade her into his bed had been made with an arrogant lack of subtlety that told her he usually found little resistance to his physical interest in a woman. And yet it was all done with such good humour, Christopher not at all offended when she refused him, that she realised plenty of women would probably find that very indifference a challenge worth pursuing. Unfortunately —for Christopher!—she wasn't one of those women. But she couldn't help liking him, and she thought that liking was returned. Even if Christopher was surprised to find himself just a friend rather than a lover.

  'So how did you get on with Carmichael?' He stood looking down at her, his hands thrust into the pockets of his fitted trousers, his careless treatment of them straining the expensive material.

  Christopher was everything Merlyn usually found attractive in a man, good-looking, undemanding, with that intrinsic streak of ambition that made him such a power to be reckoned with. Why couldn't he have been the man she had wanted so mindlessly? At least with him his emotions were all up-front, and he would never have hurt her so deliberately the way Rand had.

  'I'm sure Anne must have told you about my blunder,' she began.

  'About thinking his house was the hotel.' Christopher nodded. 'I thought it was a good idea.'

  Her eyes blazed wide with anger. 'I did not do it deliberately,' she bit out forcefully. 'It was raining, I was lost, and I didn't—'

  'Oh, come on, Merlyn,' Christopher scoffed. 'Carmichael may have believed that, but we both know—'

  'Rand Carmichael didn't believe anything of the sort.' Merlyn stood up shakily. 'And we don't know anything of the sort either,' she snapped, glaring up at him. 'Can't you see that by making that mistake I ruined any chance I may have had of talking to him rationally and calmly?'

  Christopher looked at her consideringly. 'That depends,' he said slowly.

  'On what? You—Christopher?' she questioned sharply. 'You don't seriously think I went through with your preposterous suggestion that I go to bed with him to get his approval?'