Merlyn's Magic (11 page)

She searched his face avidly, wondering if he had just
'walked in' once before; she could read nothing from his expression. 'I
was expecting a friend—'

Male or female?' he taunted. 'Or do I really need to ask?'
he scorned. 'After all, you were denying your affair with another man
when I arrived!'

Her eyes flashed green sparks at him. 'I wasn't denying
anything—'

'I don't see how you could when you got the starring role
in this film despite all the odds—'

'Christopher likes to take unknowns and mould them into
stars!' she defended hotly.

'You're the wrong height, the wrong colouring, the wrong
age—'

'
You
could have stopped it if you
wanted to,' she flared.

'I decided you'd earned it.' He moved closer, dangerously
so for Merlyn's peace of mind, the heat of his body reaching out to
her. 'And any time I want you to you'll earn it again,' he grated
harshly.

'What do you mean?' Merlyn frantically searched the cold
anger of his face for an explanation to his shattering statement.

'I want you,' he told her calmly, his hands warm on the
bareness of her hips. 'And as you aren't averse to giving yourself to
me, I intend taking you any time I feel like it. And that includes
now
!
Especially now,' he groaned, his dark head bending towards her.

She wasn't just like the moth to the flame, although every
time she touched this man she surely got burnt; but she was also like
that creature the lemming she had once read about, who ran into the sea
at migration and drowned itself. She was burning and drowning at the
same time as Rand claimed her mouth with his own.

His jaw was smooth against her as his lips moved against
hers with a mastery that demanded she respond, that she give him what
he wanted.

'Rand, please!' She wrenched her mouth from his, pleading
with him to release her.

'No.' His eyes were hard as ice. 'I hadn't touched a woman
since Suzie until the day a fiery-haired witch with the unlikely name
of Merlyn lay down on my carpeted floor and gave herself to me. And now
I want her again.'

'Rand…' she gasped weakly at the memories he
had just evoked.

'I'm a sensual man, Merlyn. I
enjoy
making love, and your magic is endless,' he grated. 'It's you I want
and you I'm going to have. Merlyn's magic,' he mused hardly. 'Weave
your spells for me again, Merlyn, I want to be inside you.'

'Me?' she scorned with her last shred of self-respect, the
rhythm of his hips grinding against her filling her lower body with a
warmth that was already his.

His mouth twisted, his eyes half-closed with the same
desire as was in his hardened thighs as they moved against her. 'You,'
he bit out harshly, his breathing ragged. 'Now!' he repeated
forcefully, stripping her bikini briefs from her body in one deft
movement. 'Next time you can undress me—slowly,' he told her
huskily as he threw his clothes to the floor. 'Right now,' he drew her
bikini top to one side, pushing her backwards on to the bed. 'I don't
have the control to wait while you perform that pleasure.'

Merlyn gasped as his rigid shaft entered her, her flesh
closing moistly about him as it accepted him, welcomed him. She lay
still as she expected him to thrust into her savagely, sate himself,
and then leave her.

Rand lay as still as she, although that hard shaft of
pleasure throbbed and moved in her softness instinctively, the
movements so slight as to be barely perceptible, although the rapid
spiralling of their breathing said even that wasn't necessary, the
aching need they shared building to a shattering climax for both of
them.

It felt so strange, neither of them moving, apart from
those inner quivers of flesh that were uncontrollable, and yet Merlyn
knew she was about to attain that ultimate fulfilment. Just as she felt
herself reach that pinnacle Rand moved savagely within her, this
unexpected pleasure at the moment of her release making her groan and
arch against him as she felt him spill his seed inside her time and
time again.

His face was softened with sensual pleasure as Merlyn
gazed down at him as he lay against her breasts like a satiated child
that had drunk its fill.

She had expected his lovemaking to be little more than
rape, knowing that even though she wouldn't have fought him she
couldn't have responded either. Instead, it had been nothing like that,
Rand giving not taking.

'Again!' he suddenly groaned, pain in his eyes as he made
the admission, his mouth closing hotly over one moist nipple.

If Merlyn had thought he was like a satiated child she
soon found that Rand never had his fill, taking and taking until she
shuddered her fulfilment beneath him, feeling as if she couldn't give
any more as he moved against her in silent demand.

This time her thrusts matched the intensity of his in
their feverish clamouring for release, and she knew a pleasure-pain
unlike anything before as her body shook and quivered to shuddering
satisfaction.

Her arms tightened about him as he tried to move away, his
hands firm on her shoulders as he pushed her back down into the bed as
he stood up. His body maintained its aura of power even though his
passion had momentarily been satisfied.

He gave a hard smile as she watched him dress with eyes
full of contentment. 'Don't worry, I'll come back tonight,' he derided
the sensuous compliance of her expression. 'This afternoon has shown me
that I can't stay away!'

Women were no longer subservient to men, didn't have to
accept their physical demands because they were a possession and it was
a man's right to take what he wanted when he wanted, as it had been in
another era. And yet that was exactly what Rand was asking—
commanding! And she wasn't saying no.

'You'll find me a demanding lover, Merlyn,' he told her
calmly as he tucked his shirt into the waistband of his trousers. 'So
demanding that I expect you to tell whatever man you were waiting for
when I arrived that you're no longer available.' His tone was hard. 'I
want to be the one who claims your body every night and any other time
of the day I want you!'

The thought of being the recipient of this man's desire
made her dizzy. 'And what do I get out of the relationship?' she
challenged.

'Me.' His gaze was icy. 'And you do want me, don't you,
little witch?'

She swallowed hard. 'No—'

'Oh yes,' he nodded, pulling the sheet from her naked body
to kneel on the bed beside her. 'I saw it here the first time you
looked at me.' His thumbtips moved lightly over her eyes. 'I taste it
here every time I kiss you.' He touched her swollen lips in the same
way. 'I see it here every time I caress you.' Those hands moved surely
to her breasts. 'And I feel it here every time I enter you.' One hand
cupped the moistness of her womanhood. 'You want me, Merlyn, and you're
going to have me—because neither of us can say no!'

She did want him—he had already demonstrated how
much!—but she also wanted love and affection, things he was
incapable of giving. They had touched on the deepest level possible
physically, but emotionally they hadn't even said hello.

'Rand, I can't cope with that sort of relationship.'
Merlyn shook her head.

'It isn't a relationship, it's an arrangement,' he
corrected grimly. 'Be honest with yourself—and me, Merlyn. I
didn't force you to do anything just now, you wanted it all.'

Did she love this man? She had a feeling that she soon
would if she didn't already—because she
did
want it all. But he was prepared to give so little.

'I can't handle this,' she shook. 'Not now.'

'Because of your work on the film,' he nodded. 'I'm not a monster,' he soothed. 'I understand the demands
of your career, and I'll accept it when you're too tired to do more
than collapse into bed at night.'

Of course he understood it, he had been the husband of an
actress for eight years. But she couldn't be just a body in a bed to
him, she wanted more than that. And he couldn't give it.

'No.' Somehow she found the strength to deny him, pushing
his hands away to stand up, knowing he watched her as she once again
put on her bikini. 'An afternoon—or night—in bed,
when you decide you want me, is not something I want,' she told him
firmly.

'But you do,' taunted Rand softly. 'You just did,' he
reminded her.

Merlyn's mouth tightened at his arrogance. They had been
to bed together for a mere hour, had made love twice in that time, and
they had spoken little. 'Next you'll be telling me that we're both
adults and that there's nothing wrong with taking what we want from
each other,' she scorned.

'There isn't,' he rasped.

She gave him a pitying look. 'Find some other woman to
satisfy your new-found interest in sex, Rand; I'm not the one for you.'

His mouth thinned, his nostrils flared, and his eyes
turned coldly silver. 'I'll be back tonight,' he repeated harshly. 'And
I want you to be here.'

'Waiting for you!'

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry,' she replied flatly.

'I won't chase after you like some damned boy!' he warned
through gritted teeth.

'Good,' she sighed.

His hands clenched into fists. 'You can't make me burn the
way I have for you and then expect to put out the fire by saying no! I
won't let you,' he told her fiercely. 'I could live with that emptiness
when no woman appealed to me, but I won't live with it when I know you
want me as much as I want you!'

Merlyn stood shaking once he had left, not from the threat
he had made not to accept her answer, but from the knowledge that he
would only have to kiss her for that decision to be meaningless. She
didn't understand him, she doubted he really understood himself or the
physical demands he had that now tormented and controlled him.

'Wow, visions of Heathcliff, hm?' Liza said in an
awestruck voice. 'No wonder you and Christopher are only friends!'

'Liza…' greeted Merlyn weakly, knowing her own
tousled appearance and that of the bed behind her told their own story.
'I—er—I wondered what had happened to you.' She
hadn't given the other woman another thought after Rand's arrival!

Her friend's eyes glowed mischievously as she gave Merlyn
a chiding look for her lie. 'Admit it, you forgot my existence after
Heathcliff arrived,' she derided. She was wearing a thigh-length robe
over her bikini.

They both knew she had, until a few moments ago, a full
hour after she was supposed to have gone to the pool with Liza. 'I
think he's more of a Rochester than a Heathcliff,' Merlyn remarked
lightly.

'Who
is
he?' Liza demanded with
great interest.

She could be evasive and say his name was Rand, but as
they were all going to be here for several weeks Liza was sure to be
introduced to him some time. 'Brandon Carmichael,' she admitted
abruptly.

Blue eyes widened with a shock Liza was too surprised to
mask. 'Wow,' she finally breathed. 'I mean—well—
Er—I didn't realise you knew him,' she said lamely, her gaze
moving awkwardly over the rumpled bed. 'What I meant was—'

'Why, Liza, I think you're embarrassed,' she mocked.
'Either that or you have a terrible case of heat-rash. And as it's only
about sixty-five degrees outside, I don't think—'

'Don't tease,' Liza groaned. 'It's just that I thought you
were holding out for Mr Right?'

She hadn't been 'holding out' at all, she had just never
found anyone she wanted to make love with before. 'What makes you so
sure I haven't found it with Brandon Carmichael?'

Liza wrinkled her nose. 'Because everyone knows he's still
in love with his wife— Oh dear,' she groaned her
consternation. 'I've done it again, haven't I! I'm sorry,
Merlyn—'

'Don't be,' she dismissed her friend's apologies with a
calm she didn't feel, locking her door behind her as they belatedly
made their way over to the pool. 'I'm well aware of Rand's feelings for
his wife, and what he wants from me. They bear little resemblance to
each other,' she grimaced.

'He's really attractive, though, isn't he?' Liza mused. 'I
wish he had seen me first—I wouldn't care who he thought he
was in love with as long as it was me he wanted.'

From what Rand had said, it wouldn't have made any
difference whom he had seen first, it was Merlyn he wanted, Merlyn who
had reawakened his sexual hunger. 'You're welcome to encourage him if
you want to,' she invited flatly. 'I don't have exclusive rights on
him.'

'Maybe we had better stop talking about him and worry
about what Christopher is going to say to you,' Liza grimaced. 'He
didn't seem too pleased when he asked where you were earlier and I told
him you were lying down for a while.'

Merlyn blushed at the way her friend had avoided telling a
lie, Liza having drawn her own conclusions about the reason for Rand's
visit to her room—correct ones, as it happened. 'What did he
say?' she frowned.

'I don't know, I beat a hasty retreat back to my room once
I'd told him you would be over later,' Liza admitted ruefully. 'I
decided there was safety in numbers!'

Christopher was in the oval-shaped pool when they arrived,
indulging in a game of handball with some of the other crew members.
Merlyn and Liza sat down unobtrusively behind a potted plant that
almost managed to conceal them from view, ordering a couple of
pinacoladas from the pool waiter.

Liza nibbled at some of the fruit arranged decorously
around the glass rim. 'Maybe he will have cooled off by the time he
gets out,' she said hopefully.

Merlyn's expression was sceptical. 'Maybe Mount St Helens
is inactive,' she laughed hollowly.

'Hm,' her friend grimaced. 'I've heard they have similar
temperaments!'

Merlyn smiled at her friend's attempt at a joke, although
perhaps as that explosive temper of Christopher's was going to be
directed at her maybe it wasn't so funny. 'As far as I know it was only
a request that I join him by the pool, not an order.'