Noella clutched at his arm. ‘Harriet is special to you, isn’t she?’
‘She’s certainly different,’ he conceded.
‘But she’s in love with Lewis.’
‘Then that makes it all the more of a challenge.’
‘A forbidden desire?’ asked Noella quietly.
Edmund looked surprised. ‘How very perceptive of you. Yes, a forbidden desire.’
‘Doesn’t that make you suspicious?’ asked Noella.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘It’s the title of Lewis’s next film.’
‘So what?’
Noella hadn’t clawed her way up from poverty to wealth without having more than her fair share of shrewd intelligence. ‘You don’t think he might be using you?’
‘By handing me Harriet on a plate? I think that’s highly unlikely. You know as well as I do that he’s besotted with her. Only an idiot would deliberately take the risk of losing someone who was that precious to him. No, Lewis is just being Lewis and going his own sweet way without noticing the effect he’s having on those around him.’
‘But what if he
is
using you? How would you feel about your precious Harriet then?’
Edmund shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’re saying that Harriet’s in on this too? That she’s helping him with the plot by having an affair?’
‘It’s possible.’
‘No,’ Edmund assured her. ‘After what happened here tonight I have to contradict you. It isn’t possible. Harriet is doing what she wants to do. No one dictates to Harriet, she’s surprisingly independent.’
‘What did go on here tonight?’ queried Noella.
Edmund yawned. ‘I forget the details but it was all very exhausting. Time to sleep I think.’
‘Did you have trouble with the hot water?’ asked Noella as Edmund was dropping off to sleep.
‘No. Why?’
‘I was curious that’s all. It made a few strange noises when I ran my bath and I wondered if it was faulty.’
‘It wasn’t earlier on. If it’s still playing up in the morning let Oliver know.’
‘Believe me, I will,’ said Noella. Long after Edmund was asleep she lay awake pondering on her future and also on what Oliver had really been doing in the house that night.
In the next bedroom Harriet was fast asleep when Lewis at last returned from the pub but he woke her just the same. She mumbled sleepily as she tried to roll away from him.
‘Tell me about it,’ said Lewis, his voice low and urgent. ‘I have to know all the details before I see Mark again tomorrow.’
Harriet struggled to wake up. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she complained.
‘But you have to! That’s the whole point of the affair. Are you enjoying it? Do you feel at all
guilty or does the pleasure blot that out of your mind? Harriet, wake up and talk to me.’
Harriet rubbed at her eyes like a child and Lewis felt a rush of tenderness for her. What he really wanted to do was take her in his arms and make slow gentle love to her until she climaxed with that sweet intensity that he found so moving.
‘I’m sorry, Harriet, but you know we’ve got to do this. Besides, if we don’t talk about it the whole thing becomes more dangerous.’
Harriet moved extra pillows behind her back and propped herself up a little. ‘More dangerous, Lew? I honestly don’t see how that’s possible. Once you gave me the freedom to follow my desires the dangers were obvious. You can’t talk them away.’
‘It’s a film, for God’s sake, not real life!’ he hissed, anxious not to disturb Edmund and Noella.
Harriet stared at him. ‘That’s where you’re wrong, Lewis. It’s a film to you, but not to me and not to Edmund either, come to that. I’m not Rowena, you know.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘She was a professional actress. When you set up the scenario for
Dark Secret
she knew how to act out the role you’d assigned to her, but I’m not an actress and I never have been. I was a PA, remember? When I’m with Edmund, when we’re making love together, I’m not acting, I’m really doing it. That’s what I was trying to tell you!
That’s why this whole idea is so dangerous. Can’t you tell the difference between acting and real life? Or do you believe that we’re all actors at heart?’
‘I suppose I do,’ admitted Lewis. ‘Most people are acting a great deal of the time. They’re putting on the mask of a professional businessman or a hooker, but that’s not the real person. The only difference between you and Rowena is that she’d had training and had a technique to fall back on when she couldn’t find the real emotions.’
‘Yes, well as I don’t have that technique everything I feel and do comes from the heart, which is much more dangerous. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m letting you do this to us,’ she added.
‘Then tell me you want to stop,’ said Lewis quietly. ‘If you ask me to drop the project and find another idea, then I will.’
Harriet stared at him in astonishment. Her body was already remembering the sensations it had experienced at Edmund’s hands, and the incredible excitement of finding itself trapped between two men, both of whom were revelling in her abandoned sexuality.
‘Give it all up?’ she asked slowly.
‘Yes, if that’s what you want then tell me.’ He was watching her very closely as he spoke and saw the conflict in her eyes.
‘I can’t,’ she admitted, her voice so quiet he had to strain to hear the words. ‘It’s too late for that now. I have to see it through to the end.’
Lewis nodded. ‘So he’s as exciting as you’d imagined?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you still want to blame me for your forbidden pleasure?’
‘I can’t blame you,’ she admitted, ‘but I do know that I’d never have started the affair if you hadn’t said I could.’
‘It wasn’t exactly like that,’ he said gently. ‘Harriet, do you love him?’
‘No. He isn’t the kind of man I’d ever love.’
‘Then there’s nothing to worry about. Now, tell me what you did.’
They were all late down to breakfast the next morning, but for the first time, Edmund joined them, and Lewis couldn’t help noticing the way the other man studied Harriet as she moved around the table, pouring freshly squeezed orange juice into glasses. Her legs were bare beneath her lemon-coloured shorts with ivory stripes, and she wore a matching waistcoat over a scoop-neck short-sleeved white ribbed top. Already her skin was starting to glow with the change of air and her face had a faint tinge of natural colour that accentuated her high cheekbones and the alertness of her grey eyes. Any normal red-blooded male would admire her, conceded Lewis, but he didn’t care for the almost proprietary interest that Edmund seemed to take. ‘I trust you slept well, Harriet,’ had been Edmund’s only words to her, but even that had
irritated Lewis. It was too English, and seemed calculated to make him feel like an outsider rather than Harriet’s husband.
He realised that he was being paranoid. The few details that he’d managed to extract from Harriet about her evening’s activities hadn’t been the sort to set him at ease, and he’d known that she was keeping a lot back. In order to find out the rest he had to retrieve the film from the concealed camera in Edmund’s room some time that day, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to see it.
‘Are we going to Morwellham Quay this morning?’ asked Noella, draining her fruit juice and reaching for an apple. ‘If we are I must take my camera. Oliver says it’s just great for tourists.’
‘At least you won’t be mistaken for anyone from the past,’ remarked Edmund, glancing at his wife’s vivid red skirt with split sides and her cotton T-shirt which was white but covered by masses of hand-painted pineapples, peaches and grapes. ‘I think it must have been easy to be turned on by the long skirts and laced tops of olden times,’ he continued. ‘There’s certainly something to be said for keeping your charms concealed. It adds a little frisson of excitement when you have to work hard at getting what you want.’
Harriet glanced at him from beneath lowered lids but didn’t answer. Before Lewis could make any remark, Ella came into the room. She looked as though her night’s sleep had refreshed her and
her blue eyes were lively and full of excitement. ‘What a lovely morning!’ she exclaimed. Lewis was struck by her voice which was deep and obviously well trained. ‘Have you any plans?’ she added, looking round the room.
‘Love the leggings and top, honey,’ said Noella, her eyes flicking over Ella’s outfit which was covered in huge sunflowers. ‘Good job you’re small-boned, though. I’d look too large in it.’
‘No one could accuse Ella of looking too large,’ said Lewis with a smile. Ella smiled back at him. She was still astonished at his sexual magnetism and wished that he hadn’t just got married. She’d have given anything for a chance to spend a night or two with him, quite apart from giving her soul for a chance to work with him.
‘There’s this village called Morwellham Quay on the Devon border where everyone’s dressed up in historic costume and works in the old-fashioned way,’ explained Harriet. ‘We’re meant to be going there.’
‘I’ve got Mark coming round this morning,’ said Lewis awkwardly. ‘Could the trip wait until after lunch?’ Harriet’s mouth tightened but she kept silent.
‘Not really,’ said Edmund, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly at the prospect of an outing without Lewis. ‘Oliver said that midday is the best time to be there. You even get an old-fashioned lunch.’
‘Then I’ll have to forego it and have a modern one,’ said Lewis shortly. He looked at Harriet.
‘I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you I promise, but we’re at a crucial point and until we’ve straightened out one or two things Mark can’t proceed.’
Harriet shrugged. ‘That’s all right. I’m sure I’ll manage to enjoy myself without you.’
Ella looked sharply at her friend and saw the dark circles beneath her eyes. She wondered if they were caused by too many exhausting nights of passion or the tensions that Harriet had hinted at the previous night. ‘I’ve been before,’ she announced. ‘I spent a month in Devon two years ago and remember it very well because I took masses of photos. I’m not sure I want to go again.’
‘Well that’s nice, Lewis will have some company,’ said Noella, looking thoughtfully at Ella.
‘I tell you what, why don’t we invite Oliver to come along as our guide?’ said Edmund suddenly. ‘Three’s always an awkward number and I’m sure he’d enjoy a day out for a change.’
‘I’ll go ask him,’ said Noella quickly. ‘Just make sure the water doesn’t play up while he’s out, Lewis.’
‘Why should it?’ asked Lewis, irritated by the fact that Ella would be remaining behind when he wanted to use the spare time he had to retrieve the film from Edmund’s room.
‘He was here late last night doing something to it, although there’s a little bit of confusion over exactly who asked him over. Isn’t that right, Edmund?’
Harriet felt the nape of her neck go warm and hoped she wasn’t blushing. ‘I’ll go and collect some things,’ she murmured.
‘You don’t mind if Oliver comes, do you Harriet?’ asked Edmund quietly.
She paused at his elbow. ‘Of course not.’
‘I think he’s earned some kind of reward.’
Remembering the way the unseen man had climaxed between her clenched buttocks the previous night, Harriet felt that if that man was – as she suspected – Oliver, then he’d already been rewarded but she could hardly say as much in front of Lewis. ‘He’s always working very hard,’ she agreed. Edmund smiled.
An hour later the four of them had set off, Ella had gone outside to explore the grounds and Lewis and Mark were sat in the conservatory, where Lewis had made love to Harriet, discussing the film.
‘What bothers me,’ said Mark, ‘is the way Helena’s husband’s behaving during her affair.’
‘Bothers you?’
‘I don’t think he’d talk it over calmly, or even let the affair carry on once it had begun. Sure I can see how it could come about, but if this guy’s as much in love with her as we’ve been led to believe then he’d back out.’
‘It’s a test,’ Lewis reminded the scriptwriter. ‘No doubt the husband will find it hard, and I think you should stress that, but he has to know how far Helena will go before she brings it to an end herself.’
‘And the other guy, the lover, he’s going to start falling in love with her, isn’t he? Because frankly, Lew, most men watching the film will and it’s hard to imagine a guy who’s having such incredible sex with her not getting emotionally involved.’
‘Some men don’t,’ pointed out Lewis.
‘So he definitely won’t? I don’t want to find myself rewriting this from a different angle later on when you change your mind.’
‘I think,’ said Lewis carefully, ‘that you’d better leave it slightly open. Allow for the possibility that he might get more involved than anyone expects.’
‘There isn’t going to be a murder at the end of this is there? Only murder isn’t my scene.’
Lewis smiled. ‘No, there won’t be a murder. A kind of death perhaps, the death of love or trust, but not a murder.’
Mark frowned and leant towards his employer. ‘Be careful, Lew. I don’t want anyone getting hurt in this, least of all you.’
‘Me? I’m just the director!’
‘I think I know you too well to take that remark at face value. All I’m saying is that I’m really fond of both you and Harriet and I don’t want to see you screwing up your lives for the sake of a film.’
‘Thanks for the concern,’ said Lewis coldly. ‘However, I pay you to write, not to lecture, all right?’ With a sigh, Mark started to write.
It was gone midday by the time Mark left, and nearly one o’clock before Lewis decided that he’d
have a swim before going to the local pub for a snack lunch. He was beginning to think that pubs were a good idea and that perhaps the Americans should try transporting a few across the Atlantic.
Ella, lying face down on the grass with her chin in her hands, watched him pad to the poolside in his brief trunks and admired his olive-coloured skin, inherited from his Portuguese mother, as well as his muscular body and striking height which came from his Texan father. He was perfect, she thought to herself, and somehow Harriet – quiet, conventional Harriet – had managed, if the tabloids were to be believed, to tame him. Being an actress though, she knew full well that the tabloids were often wrong.
After Lewis had done ten energetic lengths he looked up to see Ella sitting at the edge of the pool, her arms wrapped round her knees. ‘You’re a good swimmer,’ she said admiringly.