Merlyn's Magic Read Online Free PDF Page A

at Rand as he crossed the room to pour
himself a glass of brandy. 'I'm afraid so,' she answered the other
woman.
    'Does Brandon—know, about you?' The grimace
could be heard in Anne's voice.
    'Not yet,' she sighed, wishing she could be long gone from
here before he did.
    Anne drew in a ragged breath. 'Do you want me to tell him?'
    'God, no!' she protested; she had to spend the rest of the
evening and the long night in the same house with this man!
    'No, probably not,' Anne conceded ruefully. 'You'll come up to the hotel and see us before travelling
back to London?'
    There was no point in either of them pretending there was
any reason to go through with the visit now, and Merlyn was grateful
for the other woman's understanding. 'Yes,' she agreed heavily.' I'll
do that.'
    'Does Brandon want to talk to me?' the other woman
prompted with obvious reluctance.
    Merlyn glanced across at him as he grimly swallowed down
the contents of his glass. 'Rand?' She held out the receiver to him
questioningly, shrugging as he shook his head. 'He —he's busy
at the moment,' she excused his rudeness to his sister-in-law.
    'I'll bet,' Anne said knowingly. 'Merlyn, go easy with him
today. It's—' The line went dead.
    'Anne? Anne!' she questioned worriedly, shaking the
receiver, as if it were its fault that the call had been terminated so
abruptly.
    'The lines have gone down,' Rand informed her without
concern, confirming her worst suspicions. 'I'm surprised it didn't
happen before now in this weather,' he told her in a calm voice.
    She was completely alone, cut off here, with a man who
would have reason to hate her if he realised who she was! Although her
name hadn't elicited the response she had been dreading, only a mocking
scepticism. Christopher had said Rand turned down every actress he
proposed. Maybe, by the time they got to her, the fourth in line, they
hadn't even got as far as the relating-her-name stage!
    'Merlyn?' Rand looked at her scornfully.
    She frowned, putting down the telephone receiver now that
it was no longer of any use to her, running her hands nervously down
her denim-clad thighs as she felt their damp palms. 'Yes?'
    'No, I meant—Merlyn?' He sceptically repeated
her name.
    The flush to her cheeks came from anger this time. 'That
is my name, yes,' she challenged.
    His mouth twisted, his eyes cold. 'And can you do magic?'
he jeered.
    'I don't know,' she answered. 'I've never tried!'
    He gave a bitter laugh. 'There's no such thing as magic,'
he dismissed in a hard voice. 'How on earth did you get a name like
that?' he derided harshly.
    'After the birth of my brother, my mother had herself
sterilised,' Merlyn told him quietly. 'She was more than surprised to
find herself pregnant again eight years later.'
    'Magic!' acknowledged Rand hardly.
    'Considering my parents rarely saw each other enough to
make love, it was all the more of a shock,' Merlyn nodded. 'My father
was the one sent for an operation this time.'
    He gave a harsh laugh. 'Poor bastard!'
    She shrugged. 'I don't think he was all that thrilled to
find himself a father again at forty-six, either!'
    Rand turned away. 'Would you like a drink?' he bit out,
pouring himself another one while he waited for her answer.
    'The coffee will be fine—'
    'It will be cold by now,' he dismissed.
    'I'll make some more,' she offered, picking up the tray. The
way he was knocking back the brandy he was going to be needing a lot of
black coffee soon! Unless this was how he spent his days
now—she knew that he left the running of his considerable
businesses to a number of assistants.
    'Could you manage to "conjure" up some dinner for both of
us?' he prompted. 'The only household staff I have come up from the
village each day,' he explained abruptly. 'And I gave them all the day
off.'
    Considering the weather, that had been a very wise
decision; Rand might have ended up with a
houseful
of unwanted guests instead of just one! As far as Merlyn was concerned,
that might not have been a