he agreed to their divorce? Perhaps Dale was right and he was worried that she might make a huge financial claim on him—after all, he was now a very successful and presumably wealthy man. Her face tightened in disgust. He had indeed changed if he thought she would take a single penny from him. All she wanted was her freedom.
She sighed, remembering how she had fretted over the difficulty in getting a divorce. Her solicitor had been patient, but clearly a little at a loss.
‘Is there someone else you want to marry?’ he had enquired, and when Sarah shook her head had looked both thoughtful and perplexed, pointing out that the waiting period was meant to give couples a chance to see if they could not bury their differences and make a go of their marriages. A tight fist seemed to grip her heart, squeezing it until the pain was almost more than she could endure. What was the matter? Sarah asked herself bitterly. Surely she had learned long ago the folly of loving Ben? Hadn’t his treatment of her then—seducing her and then marrying her simply to get one up on Dale—killed all she had ever felt for him? So why did she feel this nerve-clenching sense of apprehension, and yes, anticipation at the thought of seeing him?
Too tired to find an answer to the riddle, she fell into an exhausted sleep.
The unfamiliar noises of the site woke her, and Sarah opened her eyes slowly, sitting upright when she remembered where she was. She glanced at her watch. Just gone seven, and already, if the sounds she could hear were any indication, the day’s work was well under way.
Showering quickly, she returned to her room to pull on a checked cotton shirt and some ancient jeans, brushing her hair quickly and securing it off her face with a band. The first thing she had to do was to find Ben’s assistant, report in to him or her and find out when she would be needed for filming.
Fortunately the weeks in between learning that she had got the part and her arrival in Spain had given her enough time to learn her lines, although she was fully prepared to find that some of them might have been changed in the interim. Would the mysterious author of the film script be in evidence? It wasn’t entirely unheard-of for writers to want to be present when their work was filmed, and since apparently the writer had also done the film script it was perfectly feasible that he would be on site. Sarah’s stomach tightened in a small thrill of anticipation and, chiding herself for being too impressionable, she quickly packed up her things and straightened the bed. It was almost as though she had a crush on the man—and without knowing the first thing about him! But that wasn’t true, she admitted thoughtfully. She did know about him. It was impossible to read the script and not be aware that he was a man of considerable compassion; of deeply felt but perhaps sometimes hidden emotions; a man to whom loyalty and self-respect meant far more than the indulgence in momentary pleasure.
There was no sign of Dale when she emerged from 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
