Shadow Marriage Read online

  ‘Sarah?’ She heard him curse as she stiffened. Simultaneously lightning illuminated the room and she saw her reflection in the mirror, her face white and tense, then Ben was pulling her back against him until her back curved against his chest, his arms locking round her.

  ‘You really are scared, aren’t you?’ He turned her in his arms, searching her face, and Sarah couldn’t deny it. She wasn’t just scared; she was petrified. Petrified that if he continued to hold her the way he was doing she would betray herself completely. She hadn’t forgotten how a younger Sarah and fought to conceal from him his ultimate victory; that not only had he seduced her body, he had also seduced her heart and mind, and she didn’t want him to know it now, either. ‘Come on, relax,’ Ben told her. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of.’

  Oh, but there was, Sarah thought yearningly as he pulled her head down against his shoulder. Her body curved into the protection of his, one arm holding her against him while his free hand stroked soothingly over her back. At least it was meant to be soothing, she was sure, only its effect on her was very different. Feelings she had fought to suppress ever since she had seen him boiled up inside her. The shoulder she was pillowed against was hard and warm. The towelling robe had fallen open, revealing his skin sleekly brown over his collarbone. Quite what came over her afterwards Sarah wasn’t sure, she only knew that she was impelled by some force greater than her will to touch her lips to that warm flesh, and then merely touching it with her lips wasn’t enough. Her fingertips traced the shape of it, her lips following their course, and she was drowning in a wealth of sensations; the smooth satiny feel of Ben’s skin and the underlying hard bone; the salt maleness she could taste beneath her mouth; the heady scent of it; her need of him so compulsive that she was barely aware of his curse as he started to jerk away from her, changing his mind and instead, lowering his head until his tongue found the sensitive cord in her neck, his hands pushing aside her towel to explore and possess the curves beneath.

  Outside the storm raged, but it was nothing to the feelings raging inside her, Sarah thought weakly as she let Ben lay her on the bed, her hands going eagerly to his body when he joined her, pushing the robe off his shoulders, her pulses thudding when he shrugged it off completely.

  A pulse beat tensely against his jaw and she reached upwards, kissing the spot, feeling his hands tighten on her body, her lips moving slowly over his throat, feeling the clenched tension of his skin as he swallowed, muttering something she couldn’t decipher, before grasping her shoulders, her protest muffled beneath the hot possession of his mouth as it took hers in a kiss that had none of the sophistication she remembered from earlier kisses, but echoed the savage demand she could feel exploding inside her and went on until they were both out of breath, their hearts thudding in heavy unison, until Ben raised his head and looked at her, his thumb probing the full softness of her lip where she had bitten it earlier.

  ‘Did I do that?’

  The look in his eyes made her shake with need. She shook her head, in denial. ‘No, it was…’

  ‘Don’t say it, Sarah,’ he warned her, his voice suddenly bitter. ‘God, you must have been desperate! Does Dale know the effect storms have on you? A potent stimulant, obviously. Was it he who taught you so well, Sarah? For a moment there you almost had me going out of my mind! But then that was the idea, wasn’t it? Just like old times,’ he added sardonically. ‘Well, if that’s the way you want it…’ Before she could utter a word he bent his head, his tongue teasing the outline of her lips, but Sarah could sense the difference. Whatever it was that had burned between them before was gone. She felt sick and miserable, disgusted by her own lack of will power, hating the coldly assessing way Ben’s eyes slid over her body, his hand cupping her breast.

  ‘No!’ She pulled sharply away from him, reaching for her towel and pulling it protectively around her.

  ‘Ben, why are you doing this?’ she demanded huskily. Why was he tormenting her?

  ‘You really need to ask?’ His eyes were cruel. ‘You’re a very desirable woman, Sarah, and I still want you. You know that, and knowing it, it’s up to you to tell me “no”. If you don’t, you can be sure that sooner or later I’m going to think you’re saying “yes”, and I don’t think Dale’s going to like that. You surprise me, you know,’ he added, as he stretched out a lazy hand for his robe, totally unconcerned about his nudity. ‘I know Dale likes to play the field, but I always thought of you as the type of woman who wants her man all to herself. You and Dale didn’t stay together long after you left me, and yet here you are, back in his arms…

  A denial trembled on her lips and was instantly silenced. His admission that he wanted her had stunned her and she knew that she wasn’t strong enough to resist him if made love to her. Believing that Dale was still her lover might keep him at bay. It would also salve her pride, and so she kept silent.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘NO, Gina, you must look more cowed. Remember Richard is your beau idéal, and now you’re married to him. And yet you don’t know him; you’re inclined to be in awe of him.’ Ben shouted the directions from where he was standing several feet away from the small group standing by the city walls.

  They were filming the execution of the garrison of Acre. Sarah was standing next to Gina, wondering tiredly how many more times they would have to go through the scene. In point of fact the female parts in this scene were very small. All that was required of the three of them, herself as Joanna, Gina Frey as Berengaria, Richard’s bride, and Eva as his mother Eleanor, was for them to look on with emotions which would mirror their differing personalities. However, Gina had other ideas, and Sarah could see that Ben was fast losing patience with her. The other woman was miscast, and she was making not the slightest effort to be Berengaria, as far as Sarah could see.

  ‘Gina!’ Ben was on the point of losing his temper; even Gina looked slightly apprehensive. ‘Either you play Berengaria, or you leave this cast,’ he grated at her. ‘And don’t threaten me with R.J. If this goes on much longer, you’ll have cost him more money than the rest of the cast put together—and so I shall tell him!’

  This time when they went through the scene Gina was perfect; her distress when the camera homed in on her face, after having witnessed the savagery of her husband’s command, sufficiently eloquent for Ben to call tiredly, ‘That’s it—can it.’

  ‘You’d think she’d realise by now that Ben simply isn’t interested in her,’ Eva murmured to Sarah as they both went to sit in the shade. The storm had passed leaving the air clearer, but it was still hot, and Sarah wasn’t going to be foolish enough to get heatstroke again. Not after what had happened last time! How close she had come to betraying her feelings to Ben!

  ‘I think she took fright when Ben told her he’d get rid of her,’ Sarah agreed. She felt hot and tired, her body aching with the effort of standing still for so many takes; funny how standing still was more exhausting than moving about.

  ‘Umm—well, of course he’s got a tremendous amount tied up in this film, so it’s no wonder he wants it all to be exactly right.’

  ‘As director he does have a lot of responsibility,’ Sarah assented.

  ‘Oh, but…’ Eva looked at her, then changed her mind. Sarah didn’t press her to continue, but she couldn’t help wondering what she had been about to say. Could Ben have money tied up in the film? It wouldn’t be totally unusual. He was coming towards them, and despite the gruelling heat and the problems of the morning he looked enviably cool and in control. He flopped down beside them, idly picking up Sarah’s hand and holding it loosely between his own. For effect? She longed to pull away, but Eva was talking and would surely have noticed.

  ‘It’s coming along very well, Ben,’ she said warmly. ‘Don’t you think so?’

  ‘Umm, we’re not doing too badly.’ He was noncommittal, his mind obviously on other things, and when Eva excused herself saying that she felt her make-up was in need of attention Sarah wondered if she had left them alone
deliberately. Although the crew and cast were all friendly, Sarah often found herself isolated with Ben, almost as though they were lovers… Her face burned at the implication of her thoughts. ‘Not getting too hot again, are you?’ Ben queried sharply, adding, ‘Stay there, I’ve got something for you.’ He disappeared and returned ten minutes or so later, walking from the direction of the vehicles they had used to get the equipment and themselves out to the castle. ‘Here.’ He tossed a paper package at her, and as she caught it, Sarah frowned. What on earth was it? ‘Open it, it won’t bite,’ he told her lazily, dropping down beside her again. ‘I got it yesterday, I had to go to Seville.’

  ‘Again?’ That was twice in as many days.

  ‘It’s the nearest place I can telephone the States from. Aren’t you going to open it?’

  She did so reluctantly, amazement mirrored in her eyes as she pulled away the paper to reveal a pretty soft green straw hat, with a brim large enough to shade her face. ‘Just see that you wear it,’ was Ben’s only comment as he watched her try it on, his eyes on Dale, who was lounging by the side of the canteen, ripping the metal tag off a canned drink. Sarah, following the direction of his gaze, frowned. Dale was behaving rather oddly towards her; effusively affectionate one moment and then critically resentful the next. She couldn’t blame him for being a little annoyed with her—after all, she had deceived him about her divorce, but the deception hadn’t been deliberate, and she missed the companionship they had previously shared. Only this morning he had made a lunge towards her, grabbing her and kissing her, ignoring her breathless protest and causing Ben to frown at them. He had released her with exaggerated care too, Sarah remembered, making some comment about forgetting that she was now ‘Ben’s property’.

  ‘You might try having a word with Dale about his drinking,’ Ben’s voice broke in upon her thoughts. ‘He’s going a bit over the top.’

  ‘I expect he’s worried about his part.’ Sarah was quick to defend him. ‘It can’t be easy for him, playing Richard, it’s a very demanding role.’

  ‘You think it would have been better to take the easy way out and make some sort of hero out of a legend?’ Ben taunted. ‘Do you find the script’s portrayal of him… unacceptable?’

  ‘Because of his lover, do you mean?’ Sarah responded frankly. ‘No, I don’t, but it’s typical of you that you should think I might do, Ben. If you want my honest opinion, I think the script deserves half a dozen Oscars. I’d love to meet the writer. I can’t remember when I last read anything that showed such a depth of compassion and comprehension. Logically the most one ought to be able to feel for Richard is perhaps pity, but instead when I read the script I found myself actually wishing there was some way there could be a happy ending.’

  ‘With Berengaria?’ Ben mocked, his mouth twisting.

  ‘No.’ Sarah shook her head. ‘With Philip,’ she corrected him firmly. ‘That’s how powerfully the script is written.’

  ‘Because it makes the unacceptable acceptable?’ Ben mocked, but he was watching her closely, and Sarah was angry enough to say flatly:

  ‘No, because it shows him as a human being, with virtues and failings, just like any other, and because it has the compassion not to condemn him for them, and I wouldn’t like to think myself any less capable of compassion than the man who wrote it—but then I don’t suppose that’s something you’d be able to understand, Ben,’ she said bitterly. ‘Compassion doesn’t have any place in your life, does it?’ Without another word she got up and walked away from him, but even though she had not intended to do so, something made her pause and turn round. He was watching her, and the sunlight dancing on the ground must have played tricks on her eyes because, for a second, he looked almost bereft.

  * * *

  Having lost time at the beginning of the filming, Ben seemed determined to make up for it. He had a gift for directing that enabled him to get the best out of his cast, Sarah was forced to acknowledge, watching him work, one day, waiting for her cue to join some of the male actors, Richard’s knights, who were supposedly enjoying an afternoon’s hawking.

  They were filming her journey through France en route for Spain and her first husband, and shortly she would be joining the others on set, having left her women to hawk with the men. Beneath her the pretty mare she was riding pivoted and tossed her head, and Sarah smoothed her neck automatically, hoping that she would be able to play the scene to Ben’s satisfaction. As the rebellious, turbulent teenage Joanna, very much attracted to one of Richard’s knights, she had disobeyed her brother’s orders that she was to remain with her women and had followed the men on her horse. The script called for her to gallop madly towards Alain de Courcy, losing her veil and the snood constraining her hair as she did so, arriving at his side, flushed and breathless, her hair all in disarray, eagerly showing her feelings for him in her expression, while Paul Howell, the actor playing Alain, had to grasp her bridle in concern and then lean towards her and kiss her.

  Her eyes on the group of riders, Sarah watched as Paul detached himself from the others and bent to examine his horse’s hoof. This was her cue, and the small mare responded immediately to her touch. She had always enjoyed riding, having learned as a schoolgirl, and it was undeniably pleasant to feel the coolness of a breeze against her face. Blotting out everything but the fact that she was Joanna Plantagenet, Sarah disposed of her veil, checking an inward sigh of relief as the snood obediently came away with it, her hair whipping against her face, her eyes lighting up as she saw Alain riding grimly towards her.

  ‘My lady, forgive me, that was not well done of me, I…’

  ‘There is no need to apologise, Sir Knight,’ Sarah responded, her lines coming unbidden, hurt rejection glimmering in her eyes as she concentrated on the emotions Joanna would have experienced at being rejected by the man she loved, after their first kiss.

  They played the scene to the end without hitch, or interruption from Ben, who only came striding towards them when it was over.

  ‘Ben, I’m not sure about that bit where I kiss her,’ Paul commented worriedly. ‘My horse moved. Do you want to shoot it again?’

  ‘No.’ His voice was terse, his mouth curtly uncompromising as he bit out the word. Paul looked slightly puzzled, but didn’t say anything, and Sarah stifled her own surprise. She had been sure that Ben would want them to do the scene again. He had made Dale run through a scene three times the previous day, for an equally small flaw, but perhaps he was worrying about costs, she reflected, as she dismounted and handed the reins of her horse over to the waiting boy. After all, Dale’s part was the major role, and yet Ben had been so particular about every aspect of the film. She was still looking puzzled when she saw Eva coming towards her, proffering a cold drink. Ben had gone to talk to the technicians, and Eva asked sympathetically:

  ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘Not really, I was just wondering why Ben didn’t want us to re-do that scene.’

  ‘Perhaps he just doesn’t like seeing his wife in the arms of another man,’ Eva offered with a smile. ‘He is human, you know,’ she added gently, ‘and you have only recently been reconciled. I know externally he always seems a cool customer, but we both know that’s just a veneer. Dale’s the shallow one of the two, for all his much vaunted male macho image.’

  * * *

  There was talk of a party on the final night before they flew to America for the studio filming, which was to include her own love scene, and those scenes which took place before Richard’s departure for the Crusade. Sarah wasn’t particularly keen to go. There was a limit to how long she could keep up the role of dutiful wife. Although Ben had made no further attempt to touch her and she had been careful to make sure she gave him no excuse for doing so, his words still burned in her mind. She knew she couldn’t allow him to make love to her without betraying her real feelings, and anyway, she didn’t want only his physical desire. Most nights she heard him typing long after she had gone to bed. She had no idea what he was doing and guesse
d that he would not tell her even if she were to ask.

  She refused the invitation to the party and then discovered that Ben had business in Seville and would not be back until late anyway. He made no suggestion that she accompany him, and although Dale tried to coax her to change her mind, she refused. Trying to be Joanna had taken more out of her than she had anticipated, and combined with the strain of living side by side with Ben, and yet trying to appear indifferent to him, was beginning to tell.

  ‘Oh, come on, sweetling,’ Dale protested when she refused. They were standing by his trailer, and he opened the door. ‘Come inside and we’ll have a drink and talk it over. I’m sure I can persuade you to change your mind.’ He gave her a winning smile, but Sarah still shook her head.

  ‘Really I’d rather not, Dale,’ she told him firmly. ‘I’m whacked.’

  ‘Poor darling!’ His voice was caressing and she couldn’t avoid the arm he slid round her or the light pressure of his lips as they brushed hers. More exasperated than annoyed, she pushed him away, startled to discover Ben standing less than three yards away, watching them.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Dale drawled, ‘all is discovered!’

  It should have been funny, and she was sure Dale had meant it to be, but somehow it wasn’t. Ben looked more contemptuous than amused, and Sarah found to her dismay that she felt sick and shaky, anxiety clawing at her stomach. Without uttering a word, Ben walked away, leaving Dale to pull a far from repentant face. ‘He’s only being dog-in-the-manger,’ he told Sarah easily. ‘We both know that. Unless, of course, I was right, and he’s made good his old bet? Ben’s the type who would believe better late than never, and like I told you, sweetling, he’d do it, just to give himself the pleasure of thinking he’d come between us.’