Shadow Marriage

‘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 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 licking through her veins, the weak wanting in the pit of her stomach; the need to touch and taste the male flesh against her own. She opened her eyes, half dizzy from the emotions she fought to control, telling herself that it was the sunshine that made her feel so weak and disorientated. She glanced around her and sighed, wishing with all her heart that Guy Holland was still directing the film. Just for a moment she contemplated breaking her contract, and then her fighting instinct came to the fore. Ben probably expected her to run from him like a frightened rabbit—just as Mary Fitton had run from Southampton—well, she would show him! Before she could change her mind she swung round on her heel and headed in the direction Ben had pointed out to her.

Before she got to Ben’s trailer, Sarah found the trailers which were being used as the administrative offices for the unit. One of the four girls working there, a plump, cheerful brunette, produced a work schedule, adding by way of warning, ‘Of course it changes from day to day—you know what it’s like—but we’ll be pinning a fresh one up here every morning, and of course if you’re in any doubt, you’re lucky, you can always check with the boss at night!’ Her ready smile robbed the words of any offence, and when Sarah smiled back the girl gave a relieved grin and extended a small capable hand. ‘I haven’t introduced myself, by the way. I’m Lois and the others are Anne, Helen and Sue, respectively. Thank goodness you’re human. After all the tantrums we’ve had from Madame Gina we were getting a bit worried about you, especially after this morning’s surprise. We had no idea the boss was married, much less to one of our leading ladies.’

‘We’ve been separated for some time,’ Sarah told her, unwilling to discuss her relationship with Ben and yet unwilling to offend by seeming aloof

‘We all envy you like mad,’ Lois confided with another grin, ‘and my, oh my, won’t our Gina be surprised! She got him earmarked as her private property, and he must be relieved that she’ll have to back down a little now that you’ve arrived. Anything going on between the two of them was bound to cause unpleasant repercussions if it ever got back to the ears of her boy-friend. He’s one of our backers,’ she added by way of clarification, and Sarah didn’t tell her that Dale had already informed her of this relationship. ‘Guy fought damned hard to get the money for this film, and we’re all relieved that Ben agreed to take over from him. It’s hard enough getting money out of backers these days to produce a film, without having to contend with a director who’s a yes-man and cuts corners and costs at every turn.’

Sarah could see that the other girl thought highly of Ben, which she knew from past experience was an accolade in itself. The crew were notorious for being ‘anti’ directors, and if a director did command their respect one could be sure that it had been hard won.

Half an hour later, having accepted the cup of coffee Lois offered, Sarah opened the door of Ben’s trailer. Slightly larger than Dale’s, it was on its own away from the others. Privileges of power, Sarah thought wryly, wondering why Ben had opted for seclusion. So that Gina could visit him unnoticed? She told herself she was being stupid, especially in view of all that she had been told, and anyway, why should it concern her if Gina and Ben had an affair?

Unlike Dale’s, the living area of the trailer was cluttered with mounds of paper. A typewriter sat uncovered on the table, and Sarah glanced curiously at it. The administration unit was fully equipped with all manner of electronic marvels, including a word processor, and she couldn’t understand why Ben should need a machine in his own living accommodation. Shrugging her shoulders, she investigated the doors leading off the corridor. One opened on to a kitchen very like Dale’s, only larger, with a breakfast bar in it. Next to it was a bathroom, and guessing that Ben would choose the bedroom nearest to it, Sarah pushed open the other door, into what was patently the unused bedroom.

Most of her luggage was still in Dale’s car, and since she couldn’t unpack she might as well make herself some belated breakfast and then explore the set. A swift glance at the schedule Lois had given her confirmed that she would not be needed until towards the end of the week, but she noticed that she had a wardrobe consultation first thing in the morning, and doubtless there would be many other things to fill in her time.

Half an hour later, having breakfasted on toast and coffee, and cleaned up after herself, she decided it was time to make her tour of the site, and familiarise herself with what was going to be her home for the next two or three months.

CHAPTER THREE (#ubf2229e8-2a03-50b2-b578-28be302ac939)

THE film company must have several million dollars tied up in the location site alone, Sarah decided, pausing to marvel at the swimming pool which had been dug in the sand and formed from some sort of plasticised liner. At one end a bar had been erected, complete with a ‘coconut matting’ roof and realistically weathered tables and chairs. To one side of it was a partially open restaurant where she guessed most of the crew and cast would take their meals, although it was possible to be entirely self-sufficient by using the freezer and fridge built into the trailer kitchens. A dozen or so people were seated outside the bar, the men drinking beer and the girls a mixture of the former and lemonade, reminding Sarah that the Spanish climate was a hot one and that she would be wise to protect her complexion from it. She did not need to be told how important it was not to let her skin burn—apart from the undoubted pain of doing so it could have a disastrous effect on any film shot out of sequence—she could hardly appear pale-skinned at the beginning of a scene, and then bright pink halfway through it.

She ought to have bought herself a sunhat before leaving England, but there had been so much to do she had forgotten it. She did have plenty of sunscreen, thanks to Carew, but she would need a hat if she was not to suffer from sunstroke. It wasn’t even midday yet and the heat was almost suffocating. She glanced longingly at the pool, and then reminded herself that she was here to work, not play. She would go and watch the shooting, she decided on impulse. She had never seen Ben direct and it would be as well to discover what type of method he adopted—whether it was of the ‘stick’ or ‘carrot’ variety. It was a well known maxim in Hollywood circles that the better the director the more his cast loathed him. Suppressing a shiver, Sarah wound her way through the seemingly haphazard arrangement of trailers back to the administration centre.

‘You want to know where they’re filming? Sure,’ Lois agreed laconically. ‘Why not come with me? I’ve got to take some stuff out for the boss. We’ll take one of the buggies.’ She glanced at Sarah’s uncovered head. ‘Go ahead and tell me if I’m stepping out of line, but shouldn’t you be wearing a hat, your being a redhead an’ all?’

‘I would if I’d had the sense to buy one in London,’ Sarah agreed ruefully. ‘First thing tomorrow I must find someone to take me to the nearest town so that I can buy one. Will anyone be going in?’

Lois shook her head regretfully. ‘I doubt it. There’s nothing in the can for sending off. We’ve been having problems with one of the cameras, but it’s okay now and the boss said only yesterday that he didn’t want anyone sneaking off to town—we’ve got too much lost time to catch up on. I expect he’ll make allowances for you, though,’ she told Sarah with a sideways grin. ‘He won’t want one of his leading ladies to go down with sunstroke—nor his wife to suffer from a headache!’ She laughed when she saw Sarah’s expression. ‘Honey, you’re going to have to toughen up some if you’re going to survive on location. You haven’t done much film work, I guess?’ she hazarded sympathetically. ‘Some of the guys don’t mince their words. You should have heard them this morning when they found out about you! Word is that you must be some lady to have been able to tie the boss down. I guess it’s not exactly news to you that the fact that he’s one very virile man hasn’t gone unnoticed in Tinsel Town.’

Sarah smiled and said nothing. Of course she hadn’t expected Ben to live the life of a monk when they separated, so why this curious pang of something that could almost be called pain, slicing through her body, cutting through her defences and leaving her aching and vulnerable to the white-hot pangs of jealousy ripping through her?

Lois led the way to a beach buggy parked not far away. ‘The film crew have commandeered most of the jeeps,’ she explained briefly, ‘but these little guys are far better than any car in the rough.’

‘What are they filming today?’ Sarah asked, trying to remember what she had seen on the schedule. Hadn’t it been some part of the Crusade; just before Richard ordered the execution of his Muslim hostages?

When she questioned Lois, the other girl agreed. ‘Originally the boss hoped to have it in the can by last week, but with the camera out of action… There’s an old castle out here that we’re using as part of the set. At the moment it’s standing in for the walls of Acre.’

Sarah knew from the script that in reprisal for refusing to release his Christian prisoners and to pay the ransom demanded of him, Richard had punished the Muslim leader Salah-ed-Din by putting to the sword the Muslim prisoners the Christian forces had taken when they captured Acre. For a Christian knight it was a barbaric act, especially when he had made his wife and sister witness it, but then Richard had been reputed to have a temper to match his red-gold hair, and Salah-ed-Din’s refusal to accede to his demands must have infuriated him, but Sarah knew that the script, while faithfully following actual events, had allowed a little fiction to creep in along with the death of one of the fictional characters, Richard’s lover, the knight Philip, who had left Richard on Cyprus to join the Knights Templar, a celibate fighting order, in order to do penance for their sin. This knight had been captured by a band of ferocious warriors known as ‘Assassins’, a title derived from the fact that they ate the hashish drug. From her own careful research, Sarah knew that it was quite true that the stronghold of the Knights Templar had been attacked by the Assassins and that many had been killed in the hills surrounding the citadel.

She also knew that this scene now to be shot was the culmination of Richard’s relationship with his lover. Salah-ed-Din, unwilling to pay the ransom Richard demanded for the return of his prisoners, had instead offered to Richard the life of his lover. Richard had refused, and at the appointed time when Salah-ed-Din should have sent his ransom to the Christian camp, instead he had sent a dying man, his body tied to one of the creamy pale Arabian horses so greatly valued by the Moors, blood pouring from the wound in his side.

Declining to accompany Lois when she went across to Ben, Sarah attached herself to a group of extras just off set. The ancient castle was decrepit enough to have an air of authenticity, its walls half crumbling into the dusty sand, the sun glittering hotly on the pale stone.

A line of brightly striped pavilions had been erected at the base of the walls; the tents of the Christian army. Some distance away were another group of tents, this time representing those of the Muslim forces, and it was in a mock-up of one of these that the filming was taking place.