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 more interested in gossiping about us than in doing a first-rate job.’
‘But no one need even have known that we were married,’ Sarah bit out. ‘I…’
‘I quite agree,’ Ben cut in tersely, ‘and who have we to thank for the fact that they do know?’
For a moment Sarah looked at him blankly, then she remembered Dale announcing her as Ben’s ‘ex-wife’. ‘Dale didn’t mean anything,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘You know what he’s like.’
‘Probably better than you,’ came the crisply derisive response, ‘but the damage is done now, Sarah. I’ve got enough problems on my hands already without you and Dale stirring up more. I’d feel much happier if you weren’t here to add to them, but failing that, it will make life that little bit easier for me to have you under my eye, where I can see you. And, Sarah…’ She turned to look at him, dry-mouthed with apprehension at the tone of his voice. ‘Any attempt on your part to resume your affair with Dale, and I’ll get myself another Joanna, contract or no contract, understand?’
Just for a second she toyed with the idea of telling him what he could do with his part, but she needed it too much; needed and wanted it. Ever since she had read the script she had known how much she wanted to be in the film. Not just because it was destined to be an out-and-out success, but because something about the way it was written, the development of the characters, struck a sympathetic chord deep inside her.
‘I don’t want to share a trailer with you,’ she heard herself saying childishly, knowing that they both knew that she had given in. ‘I…’
‘I’m not exactly thrilled about it myself,’ Ben agreed curtly, ‘but needs must, and anyway, we’ve nowhere else to put you.’
‘Because Gina insists on having a trailer to herself. Why don’t you simply share with her, and let me have your trailer?’ Sarah suggested sweetly. ‘That way you’ll be keeping both your main actresses happy.’
‘Dale has been busy, hasn’t he?’ was Ben’s only comment, but Sarah hadn’t missed the way his eyes narrowed, nor the dark flush running along the high cheekbones. Somehow her comment had got to him, which in itself was worthy of further investigation. Was he not as immune to Gina as he pretended? ‘Well, just try to remember that this time you’re playing brother and sister, and not lovers. And if you want to blame someone because you’re having to share with me, then blame Dale—after all, he’s the one who announced that we were married.’ He glanced at his watch again. ‘I’m due on set in ten minutes. You’ll find my trailer on the far side of the camp. It’s on its own—a brown and cream monstrosity, you can’t miss it. By the way,’ he added, halting her and pinning her where she stood with the icy intentness of his scrutiny, ‘how come you changed the time of your flight? I had fully intended to come and collect you myself.’
‘You had? But…’
Two facts hit her simultaneously. One was that Dale had been wrong and that Ben had known she was to play Joanna. The other was that someone had obviously misled him over her flight, because she had certainly not altered it.
‘But?’ he encouraged, still watching her. ‘But you and Dale decided it would create more of an impact if you were seen with him? Nice try, Sarah, but this time you’ve been out-manoeuvred.’
‘Because you lied about us being reconciled,’ Sarah said bitterly, ignoring the accusation he had tossed at her. ‘Reconciled!’ She laughed acidly. ‘You never even wanted to marry me in the first place—you…’
‘But I did,’ Ben cut in grimly, ‘and having done so, I’m having to pay for my mistake—just like you—and be warned, Sarah, this time I’m not going to allow you and Dale to make a laughingstock out of me!’
He was gone before she could retort, striding through the heat and dust-hazed morning, the rigid line of his disappearing back reminding Sarah of the hard pressure of his body against hers. In Dale she had seen few changes if any to mark the intervening years; in Ben she saw many. As Southampton he had won acclaim for his acting ability, and had been more of a heart-throb than Dale, his darkly macho good looks causing more of an impact on the audience. He had been just thirty when they met. Now he was thirty-three, going on thirty-four, and like something cast in iron, he had hardened rather than mellowed. Oh, he was still good-looking—Sarah closed her eyes, quivering in recognition of the sexual appeal that nothing could destroy, and she hadn’t been immune to it. Held prisoner in his arms, it had been fatally easy to remember how it had been between them, and even if there had not been the love she believed at the time, there had still been the passion and desire. If she closed her eyes she could still feel the echoes of it now, tongues of flame
