The Spiral Path (38 page)

T
here
was someone in her room.

Rainey jerked awake as years of urban
fear sent adrenaline surging through her veins. It took a moment to remember
that she wasn't in crime-ridden California, but the quiet English countryside.
Not that location mattered if assault was imminent.

She was on the verge of screaming when a
deep, familiar voice whispered, "It's only me."

"Kenzie?" Her heart was
hammering so hard that she couldn't even manage anger over his intrusion. "What
are you doing here?"

Soundlessly he crossed the room to her
canopied bed, his taut face and figure faintly limned by moonlight. The
mattress sagged as he sat next to her. She was about to ask what on earth he
was doing when his questing hand touched her face. His fingers were cold as
death.

She had a sharp memory of his appearance
after the last take of the day. Whatever he'd done in the hours since had not
improved his state. She slid her arms around his chest and pulled him onto the
bed beside her. His whole body was shaking and chilled.

Wondering if he was coming down with
some illness, she cradled him as if he were a hurt child. He released his
breath in a long exhalation and buried his head between her neck and shoulder.
She realized he wasn't here for talk or romance, but the basic human comfort of
touch.

She tugged the edge of the duvet out
from under his weight, flipped the soft covering over him, then enfolded him in
her arms again. Between the cocoon of the duvet and her own body heat radiating
through the sheets, he gradually warmed up, his tense body relaxing. His
breathing became slow and regular, and eventually he slept.

It was ironic that she was doing the
soothing. In the past, Kenzie had been the relaxed one who would calm her when
she was wound up. But this movie was clearly stirring up the most hidden depths
of his personality. Bleakly she wished that her passion to direct had fastened
on a different project. One with no role for Kenzie.

Though she'd been prepared to meet the
price of her ambition, she hadn't realized that he would end up paying it for
her.

She
was wakened by Kenzie's stealthy attempt to slide from the bed. She glanced at
her bedside clock. Sunrise came early in an English summer, and it would be
almost two hours before her day officially began. "Wait a minute,
buddy." She caught his wrist, using a line from a thriller they'd made
together. "Think I'm some kinda one-night stand?"

He smiled a little. "I was hoping
if I left quietly, you'd forget I was ever here."

"Not likely when you scared me out
of a year's growth." She settled back on her pillow, studying his face. He
needed a shave, but he looked almost normal again. "How did you get in? I
distinctly remember locking the door last night."

His gaze shifted. "It's not a very
complicated lock."

"Don't tell me--you made that movie
where you were a gentleman burglar, and you learned breaking and
entering."

"One should never turn down the
chance to acquire new skills."

She felt a touch of envy; she'd never
gotten beyond picking a cheap padlock with a hairpin. Children were natural
criminals, she suspected. "Are you feeling okay now? You looked like death
walking last night."

"If anyone ever offers me the kind
of role that wins Oscars again, I'll slam the door in his face."

She winced. "I'm truly sorry. I had
no idea how hard this would be."

"Shooting will be over in a
fortnight. I should be able to last that long." He sat up, his gaze
flicking to her bare shoulders and away again. Dropping into Victorian
gentleman mode, he said, "I'd best be gone before I ruin your reputation,
my dear lady."

She laid her hand over his. "I
don't think it can ruin a wife's reputation if her husband is seen leaving her
room."

He didn't move. "For us, the issue
isn't reputation, but gossip columnists."

Not to mention their ability to wound
each other emotionally--yet she couldn't bear the thought of him leaving so
soon. "It would be a waste to have the sexiest man in the world in my bed,
and not do anything about it."

He tensed, his gaze traveling the length
of her sheet-covered body. "Are you offering a medicinal fuck to keep me
from falling apart?"

She flushed violently and rolled away
from him, curling into a knot on her side. "What a rotten thing to say! If
that's how you feel, get out."

He swore and lay down beside her,
wrapping his arm around her waist to tuck her against the front of his body.
"I'm really sorry, Rainey. Last night I ... asked you for more than I should
have. We've already had two incidents that didn't officially happen. Three
would be pushing it." His voice became dry. "Especially if your
motive is charity. I don't have a lot of pride, but I have enough not to want
that."

"What makes you think my suggestion
was about you?" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Even tough
little chicks can use some tenderness now and then. Unless ... you really don't
want to."

"Don't want to?" He exhaled
against her nape, his breath warm and intimate. Then he kissed the juncture of
her throat and shoulder in precisely the right point to send sensation blazing
through her. "For a clever woman, you can be rather foolish."

He turned her onto her back and drew the
sheet down to her waist. She was intensely, erotically aware that she was naked
while he was fully dressed.

"You make an exquisite Eos, goddess
of the dawn, all luminous skin and hair the color of sunrise." He began
unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm glad to see that you haven't developed the
unsightly habit of wearing a nightgown."

Suddenly giddy with anticipation, she
attacked the zipper of his slacks. "That's because it's summer. If it were
winter, I'd be wearing heavy flannel from ankles to chin."

"Then let us celebrate
summer." He stood and stripped off his clothing.

She wished he'd undress more slowly,
because she loved looking at his strong, beautifully proportioned body. Yet
even more she wanted him with her. Eagerly she reached out when he joined her
on the bed, as ready and hungry as she.

Unlike the intense, searingly passionate
way they'd come together in New Mexico and at the labyrinth, their dawn
lovemaking had a playfulness that she hadn't experienced in far too long. Once,
they'd always made love with laughter...

Not that passion was lacking, for Kenzie
was the most generous of lovers. He also had the most sensual, skilled mouth in
creation, a fact he demonstrated until she forgot the movie, the divorce, the
guilt, and soared with joy and fulfillment. There was equal joy in returning
the gift he gave her, drowning him in sensation until, for a handful of
moments, he soared as freely as she.

Afterward she lay contentedly in his
arms, listening to the beat of his heart and trying to pretend the clock wasn't
ticking with equal regularity. How could they be so close, physically and,
she'd swear, emotionally, yet be in the middle of a divorce?

Because he didn't want to stay married.
Not once had he opposed the divorce, asked for forgiveness, or suggested that
there was any reason to stay together. He'd said he wasn't suited for marriage,
and apparently that was his final word on the subject.

Hearing her sigh, Kenzie murmured,
"I presume that this morning is another one of those things that hasn't
happened?"

"Denial is getting pretty silly,
isn't it?" She rolled onto her back and stared at the ruffled canopy of
the outrageously romantic bed, assessing the lava flow of pain that pulsed
beneath her contentment. "I prefer keeping what happens between us
private, but ... well, as you said, it's only two weeks until the end of
production. Obviously sleeping together makes us both feel a whole lot more
relaxed and happy, at least in the short-term."

"And in the long-term?" His
voice was neutral.

The lava would erupt into a volcano and
burn her to her bones again, but that would happen no matter what they did
during the next two weeks. "We'll go our separate ways when shooting ends,
which will be ... difficult, but no worse if we sleep together than if we don't.
That being the case, the cost-benefit analysis favors continuing to sneak
around and see each other." She darted a glance at him. "What do you
think?"

"Cost-benefit analysis? What a very
cold way of saying that we're happier together, and we'll probably work better
for it." He smiled a little wistfully. "Our terms may be different,
but we seem to be in agreement. Sneaking around it is."

She snuggled closer, knowing that later
she would pay big-time for these two weeks of intimacy. But she'd enjoy herself
while it lasted, perhaps find a sense of closure. The agonizing rupture after
she'd discovered him with another woman had been too abrupt, the wound too raw
to heal.

Remembering him with Angie Greene made
her shudder. Noticing, he said softly, "Second thoughts, Rainey?"

Not wanting to think of his
unfaithfulness during these golden moments, she offered a different truth.
"I thought of Sarah, which made me twitch. I still haven't got a handle on
her. If I don't soon, it will be too late."

"Maybe you should get out of the
way and let Sarah take over," he suggested.

"Very zenlike. Can you be more
specific?"

"You probably know Sarah inside
out, but you're still not comfortable with her. I don't think you like her very
much."

Rainey started to protest, then stopped.
"You may be right. I love John Randall because his problems and struggle
to heal touch universal chords, but so much of Sarah seems specific to her own
restricted time and place. I have trouble getting into her because the world is
so much different now."

"She's loyal and loving, and those
qualities are as universal as Randall's. It's interesting that you can relate
to his pain more easily than her virtues."

If Rainey were a cat, her fur would be
bristling. "She's a young woman with potential who is trapped in a world
that gives her almost no choices! This benefits Randall, but I still feel sorry
for her."

"Much harder to live in a time
where divorce was almost impossible. How fortunate you are to be able to walk
away from an unsatisfactory marriage, unlike Sarah."

Recognizing that they were on thin ice,
she made herself step aside and study her reaction, as if she were learning a
new character. "Maybe Sarah's situation makes me think of the years when I
lived with my grandparents and felt so powerless."

"I can see why that would get in
your way, but remember, Sarah likes herself and her situation very well. One of
the things that makes her special is that she's completely comfortable with her
place in life. Because she's working from a secure center, she can offer
Randall strength and stability."

"You've really thought a lot about
her, haven't you?"

"Of course. She's the lifeline for
my character, and I need to know why."

Kenzie had always been terrific at
figuring out characters. She'd missed the intense discussions they used to
have. Especially since those talks often took place in bed. "Any
suggestions for how to come to terms with Sarah?"