Shadow Marriage. Penny Jordan

her room, and not knowing whether he was still asleep or already working, Sarah found the coffee percolator and filled it almost automatically, unable to resist the temptation to open the door and enjoy the lazy warmth of the morning as she waited for it to be ready. Later on the heat might be oppressive, especially if she was working, but right now it was just perfect, the tender fingers of morning sunshine warming the bare skin of her throat and arms, making her want to bask like a lazy cat. She closed her eyes languorously, opening them again quickly as a shadow blotted out the warmth of the sun, some sixth sense alerting her, awareness prickling dangerously over her skin as her muscles tightened and she saw that the object that had come between herself and the sun was none other than her husband, Benedict de l’Isle, director and producer and the Most Important Man under God on the site.

      He saw her at the same moment as she saw him, halting almost mid-stride, a look, almost of shock, rippling across features that looked as though they had been hewn from stone. If Dale was the archetype of fair-headed good looks, his face open and sunny, then Ben was his direct opposite, Lucifer fallen to earth with his darkly bitter features, his hair as black as night, and his profile that of a man to whom the weaknesses of others were unknown. Eyes the colour of jade assessed her ruthlessly, stripping away the veneer of sophistication she had gathered over the years, and with it the barrier of her clothes, so that Sarah felt as though she stood before him as she had done on the set for Shakespeare, naked, and vulnerable. And then she remembered that Dale had told her Ben didn’t know she was among the cast. That gave her enough courage to lift her head and match him stare for stare. Her heart hammered violently against the confines of her flesh. She had forgotten how tall he was. She was five eight and even with the advantage of the steps she still had to look up to him. The surprise, if indeed there had been any, was gone, and had been replaced by the same icy contempt she remembered from another confrontation. It was really amazing how green eyes could be so cold, she thought, shivering a little as she realised the interested stares they were attracting from the small crowd that seemed to have gathered almost instinctively, drawn by the scent of blood no doubt, she thought bitterly. Well, if Ben thought he was going to take this part away from her! Her eyes smouldered darkly. She needed it far too much to give it up tamely, and she had her contract…

      With a little start she realised that already she was on the defensive, feeling too vulnerable, too aware of the power of the man watching her.

      She shivered again as Ben’s mouth curled tauntingly, stepping backwards and instantly grateful for the warm support of Dale’s arm, as it curved round her. She hadn’t realised he was there, Paul at his side, and the brief glance she gave him showed that she was tremulously glad of his presence.

      ‘Morning, Ben,’ he drawled affably. ‘Come to say hello to your ex-wife?’

      Sarah saw Paul’s eyes widen, but barely had time to register her protest of Dale’s unwise comment, her swiftly indrawn breath checked as Ben’s face darkened, his eyes and mouth hard with contempt. What on earth had possessed Dale to challenge him like that? Paul too looked to be concerned and slightly shocked. Obviously he had meant well, but Sarah shivered, wishing he had kept quiet.

      ‘My ex-wife?’ Ben murmured softly, cruelty glinting in the smile he gave Sarah as he reached them, grasping her hand, and uncurling fingers almost numb with shock as he jerked her forward so that she practically fell into his arms.

      ‘You mean to say you haven’t told him, darling?’

      The words were murmured against her ear, shivering across her skin, Ben’s hold tightening round her until she could barely breathe. Almost as though she were standing outside herself Sarah witnessed the small tableau—Dale, standing in the doorway of the trailer, wary, and questioning, his eyes searching her face as he tested it for reaction. Ben and herself locked in an embrace which made her frighteningly aware of the muscled power of his body, her back and legs warmed by the male flesh of his body, the contrast of his darkly tanned forearm resting alongside the pale fragility of hers, his fingers curling possessively round her wrist, holding it just before the curve of her breasts, so that he couldn’t help but be aware of the hurried thud of her heart.

      ‘Told me what?’ Dale demanded at length with just enough edge under the light voice he used for Sarah to know that he was taken off guard.

      ‘Why, simply that she isn’t and never has been my “ex”,’ Ben drawled lightly, the concerted but very audible gasp that went up from their ‘audience’ reminding Sarah that he always had been a first-rate actor, able to draw every last ounce of emotion out of any scene.

      ‘You could have told Dale our little secret, darling,’ Ben murmured behind her. She felt him bend his head, and then the warm brush of his mouth against her skin, just below her ear, making her shiver in shocked response. ‘I know I said I didn’t want it made public just yet, but since I took this job especially to be near you, I think we’ve rather given ourselves away, don’t you?’

      Sarah was too numb to speak. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Dale. How could she deny Ben’s assertion that she was still his wife, when in effect it was perfectly true? But as for the rest of his statement! She tugged away from him, her eyes already darkening with anger, and thought she had caught him off guard as she found herself free, but her freedom only extended to the length of time it took Ben to turn her in his arms, so that her breasts were crushed against the thin silk of his shirt, her nostrils full of the male scent of him, the grainy texture of his skin, and the hard pressure of his body as he held her against him.

      ‘For those of you who don’t know,’ he drawled, raising his voice so that it reached the crowd of onlookers, now much larger than it had originally been and every one of them unashamedly listening, ‘Sarah and I have been separated for the past few years, but now we’re back together again, and my only regret is that on this occasion I won’t be playing her lover—at least not in public!’

      There was a wave of goodnatured laughter, only Dale and Sarah not joining in. She couldn’t believe this, Sarah thought dazedly. Why had he done it? And then as she heard him saying coolly, ‘I didn’t realise you were arriving last night, darling. You should have let me know. Never mind, you’re here now. I’ll get someone to move your things to my trailer. Thanks for looking after her, Dale. It’s almost like old times,’ she knew. He wasn’t going to have it said a second time that his wife had a lover who wasn’t her husband. But why not simply divorce her? He didn’t want her. He had made that more than plain enough; had told her to go to Dale. She could still remember the cruelty of his words when he had done so. All she had ever been to him had been the winning of a bet!

      The crowd was slowly beginning to drift away. Break-ups and reconciliations were common enough in their industry not to cause too much comment, although it would have seriously undermined Ben’s authority had it been thought that his estranged wife was having an affair with another member of the cast.

      ‘Let me go!’ Sarah demanded tersely, not even bothering to conceal the shaken anger she was feeling. Dale was still watching them and came down the steps, frowning as he approached them.

      ‘Look, Sarah, if…’

      ‘Leave it, Dale,’ Ben cut in in clipped accents. ‘Like I said, I’ll have someone move Sarah’s things to my trailer. You’re supposed to be filming in half an hour, aren’t you?’ he added, flicking a glance at his watch. ‘They’ll be waiting for you in Make-up.’

      Faced with what was tantamount to an order, Dale had little alternative but to go, and Sarah watched him leave, anger and anguish mingled in her eyes as Ben retained his hold on her until Dale was swallowed up in the dust and heat of the morning.

      ‘Well now,’ he drawled when Dale had gone, ‘are you going to tell me what you were doing spending the night in his trailer, or can I guess?’

      ‘You can,’ Sarah spat back, ‘but if you judge Dale and me by your own standards, then you wouldn’t come within a mile of the truth! And speaking of motives, Ben, why did you announce that we were reconciled?’

      ‘We’ve got to work together, Sarah. I want to make a success of this film, and I’m not having the cast and crew