The Spiral Path (24 page)

She crossed the room and sank wearily
into the sofa, absorbing the warmth of the fire. "Pushing one's boundaries
works to a point, but we all have a range of things we can do effectively.
Sweet little Sarah is out of my range."

"Then don't think about the whole
movie at once. A day's shooting is only a few minutes of usable film, and
surely for those few minutes you can manage Sarah and her naivete. There's
nothing like slicing a story into hundreds of takes to grind the primal fear
away."

Everything he said made sense, yet she
shivered at the thought of playing Sarah with anyone, much less with Kenzie.
"You don't know what you're asking."

"I think I do." He gave her a
sidelong glance. "It's hard enough working together, but to play lovers?
Husband and wife? Of course it will be difficult, but for the sake of the
movie, you have to do this. You won't find a better actress in the time
available."

She started to reply, then stopped dead
as she realized the conversation was eerily familiar. "You're using the
same arguments I used when you tried to back out of the production!" In
fact, with Kenzie's flypaper memory, parts of the conversation were word for
word.

He chuckled. "I wondered how long
it would be before you noticed. The arguments are as valid now as they were
then. How does it feel to have them thrown at you, rather than doing the
throwing?"

She didn't know whether to laugh or
swear. "It feels rotten, especially with you taking an indecent amount of
pleasure in making me sweat."

"I can't say I enjoy watching you
suffer, but the situation is not without humor." He caught her gaze.
"I have a stake in this movie, too. I'm putting in my time, energy, and
reputation. My name will go on the theater marquees. I want this production to
be as good as it can be, and that means we need you as Sarah."

"There has to be an English actress
who can play her as well as me. Probably better."

"If there is such a person, which I
doubt, what are the chances of finding her in a week, and her being
available?" He smiled faintly. "Having loftily told me that suffering
through a painful role would be good for me and my art, can you justify taking
the coward's way out when the tables are turned?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you trying
to use emotional blackmail?"

"I have a much better weapon. Your
sense of fair play."

She swore under her breath. "You
certainly know what buttons to push."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't intended as a
compliment." She rubbed her temples, thinking how much she didn't want to
do this role. But karmic justice had struck with a vengeance. She let her
breath out in a long sigh. "Very well, damn you. I'll play Sarah."

CHAPTER 13

K
enzie
gave her the smile that always tied her stomach in knots. "I'm
glad. Acting together will be stressful, but that's not a bad thing for the
movie, since the characters are saturated with stress."

"You're grasping at straws, Kenzie.
We're going to drive each other crazy. But you're right, the movie will
probably benefit by having both of us, even if the camera guys have to work
twice as hard to make me look young enough." She rose from the sofa.
"I think I'll call it a night."

"Isn't it a little early? We could
do some rehearsing."

They'd rehearsed together many times
since that first night with
The Scarlet Pimpernel
at Kenzie's house, but
so much had changed. So damned much... "I haven't got a copy of the
script."

"I do. I'd planned on working
tonight. We can manage with one copy. I've learned just about all of my lines,
and since you wrote the screenplay, you must know it almost by heart."

He'd booked this exotic hideaway for a
Saturday evening of work? "Sometimes, Kenzie, you're downright
inhuman."

"You've finally discovered my deep
secret--that I'm a space alien who learned to act so I can pass as human."

Though he said it jokingly, there was a
strange kind of truth in his words. Not that he was from outer space, but that
he felt like an outcast. Many actors felt like outsiders, herself included. She
knew the source of that primal sense of disconnection in her own life, but not
in Kenzie's. He'd posted the subject of his childhood off-limits at the
beginning of their relationship, and she'd respected that.

But she'd wondered what influences had
shaped him. His voice, accent, sophistication, and confidence indicated an
upper-class British background. Yet he had an almost complete lack of ego,
which didn't jibe with a privileged upbringing or his phenomenal success. In
the most narcissistic profession in the world, he was profoundly unassuming. He
accepted that he would receive star treatment, but never seemed to want or
expect it.

Nor did he have the vanity that was
usual with most beautiful people. Neither did she, but that was because she
hadn't been a particularly pretty child. With her skinny frame, thin face, and
odd red-blonde hair, she'd been passable at best. She'd stared into mirrors and
brooded on the unfairness of fate for not giving her Clementine's lush beauty.
In time she'd learned to play up her good features and carry herself as if she
were beautiful. That illusion had worked for her as an actress, but it wasn't
the same as being born with traffic-stopping good looks.

She deduced that Kenzie's childhood had
been very difficult, maybe an alcoholic or abusive parent. Maybe, like her, he
hadn't been a very attractive child. If he'd been overweight, it explained the
lack of vanity and his rigorous physical fitness regimen--access to a gym was a
standard clause in all his movie contracts.

Or maybe he'd been dumped into a
boarding school and forgotten, or been a short skinny kid who'd been bullied
mercilessly. Whatever the details, that upbringing had been so painful that he
wouldn't talk about it to anyone, not even to her. Maybe he'd anticipated that
they wouldn't stay together, and she might tell his story to the tabloids after
they parted. Life had made him extremely wary.

One of the things they had in common.

Though she would prefer to put a door
between herself and her husband, it would be foolish to waste several hours of
uninterrupted working time when the movie had such a tight production schedule.
"I suppose we could do a read-through of the script, though I don't want
to get into serious acting."

"Agreed. I figure I'll only be able
to manage Randall and his problems for one or two takes per scene, so I'm not
going to waste the emotion at this early stage." He pulled a copy of the
screenplay from his duffel bag and handed it to her. "But a read-through
will help us to get a handle on playing these characters together."

She'd loved working with Kenzie on the
two movies they'd made before this one. Not only was he incredible to act with,
but it had meant spending more time together. Conflicting obligations had kept
them apart for half their marriage, and that had contributed to their breakup.
How many times had she talked with him on the phone when the hunger for his
physical presence had been so great she'd almost moaned from the pain of
separation?

Forcing her mind back to the present,
she flipped through the script. Every scene between Sarah and Randall was
either romantic, charged with heavy emotion, or both. It was difficult
directing Kenzie through this material--acting with him would be hellacious. It
was a good thing that Sarah was on the verge of tears half the time--that Rainey
could handle.

She began to read her first scene, when
Randall asked Sarah to marry him. Miss Naivete at her most credulous, full of
wonder that the handsome, dashing officer she'd adored from childhood wanted
her as his wife. Rainey kept her voice flat, and suppressed the memory of
Kenzie proposing to her in California. He read his part with matching
neutrality.

After the engagement came Randall's
African campaign and imprisonment. He dreamed of Sarah during his captivity,
her innocent beauty becoming an emblem of his homeland, but they didn't see
each other again until he stepped from the train at Victoria Station and found
himself a hero.

Though her parents didn't approve of a
gently bred girl meeting her fiance in such a public place, Sarah insisted on
going to the station. She was waiting with her protective father as Randall
emerged from the train. They couldn't speak properly in the middle of the
turbulent crowd, but she was close enough to see the longing in Randall's eyes
when he saw her, then the panic as journalists and hero-worshippers closed in
on him.