Christmas is the perfect time of year for…

Presents, Passion & Proposals

Three brand-new, irresistible, festive romances from bestselling, beloved authors

CAROLE MORTIMER

JANE PORTER

CATHERINE GEORGE

Presents, Passion & Proposals
Carole Mortimer
Jane Porter
Catherine George

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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The Billionaire’s Christmas Gift

About the Author

CAROLE MORTIMER was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978 and has now written over one hundred and fifty books for Harlequin Mills & Boon. Carole has six sons, Matthew, Joshua, Timothy, Michael, David and Peter. She says, “I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live in a lovely part of England.”

Look for an exciting new novel from Carole Mortimer, Jordan St Claire: Dark & Dangerous, available from Mills & Boon® Modern™ romance in January 2011.

Dear Reader,

What a wonderful time of year this is! A time for the giving and receiving of gifts but most of all a time for caring and sharing and being with those we love.

I love to read books with a seasonal flavour, but I love writing them even more! It is an absolute joy for me to write a book with a Christmas setting and to indulge my love of the holiday season by having two of my characters fall in love with each other. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Merry Christmas!

Carole Mortimer

Chapter One

NICK glowered through the windscreen from inside the warmth and comfort of his heated car as the rain and sleet fell heavily outside, in no hurry to find a gap in the slowly moving vehicles that would allow him to edge back into the morning rush hour of bumper-tobumper traffic. Having dropped his daughter Bekka off at school for the day, he was too immersed still in the memory of their last conversation before Bekka had climbed, sulking, out of the car.

‘It’s not fair, Daddy! Just because my birthday is on Christmas Day…Why can’t I have someone over on my birthday like the other girls do?’

‘Because—’

‘Because “everyone is busy with their own families on Christmas Day,”’ Bekka parroted—a reminder that this was the excuse Nick had been giving her for the past week.

‘I’m taking you and three of your friends bowling and then out for a meal on Saturday instead—’

‘I want to invite someone over on my actual birthday,’ Bekka had maintained stubbornly. ‘It’s just one little guest, Daddy. Just one,’ she wheedled.

‘But—’

‘And I already know that Mrs Morgan isn’t busy on Christmas Day with her own family because she doesn’t have one!’ Bekka had announced triumphantly.

Why couldn’t his eight-year-old daughter be totally consumed by self-interest, as most of her friends seemed to be? Nick now fumed inwardly. Why did it have to be his daughter who took in all the abandoned kittens, stray dogs, injured birds—and now widowed schoolteachers—whom Bekka knew happened to be spending Christmas alone?

He and Bekka did okay together, didn’t they? Nick questioned with a frown.

Bekka had lived with her mother after Janet and Nick divorced three years ago, and Nick had been trying to be both mother and father to Bekka since Janet had died ten months ago. To be there for Bekka as much as he could when business interests already took up so much of his time. And he tried—even if he didn’t always succeed!—to spend the weekends doing things that Bekka wanted to do.

Surely he didn’t have to give up the peace and quiet of his Christmas Day, too, in order to entertain an elderly, probably bewhiskered widow, so bereft of family and friends no one else was willing to invite her to join them for the holidays?

No, of course he didn’t.

Nick’s heart sank again as he remembered Bekka’s last petulant shot. ‘Mummy would have let me do it!’ And then she’d slammed the car door and disappeared through the rain and sleet into the school building. Seven words. Seven little words guaranteed to guilt Nick into agreeing to whatever hare-brained scheme Bekka had come up with this time. Seven little words that meant Nick now possessed three thoroughly spoilt cats who thought they owned him, rather than the other way around, and an anti-social dog who more often than not tried to keep him out of the house rather than intruders. Plus a hamster one of Bekka’s friends had had to get rid of because she was allergic, and, of all things, a rat that Bekka had literally saved from the jaws of one of the spoilt cats.

Add in a goat and some ducks and they could open up a damned petting zoo!

No, he had to draw the line somewhere, Nick decided firmly, and, whether Bekka liked it or not, inviting an elderly widow—a complete stranger, to boot—to join them next week on Christmas Day, was going to be it!

Having settled that situation to his satisfaction, Nick pressed his foot gently down on the accelerator to manoeuvre out into the traffic so that he actually reached his office some time this morning after all.

At that exact moment a huddled pedestrian chose to step off the pavement in front of his car!

The first indication Beth had that the car parked at the end of the school driveway was now actually moving came as she stepped off the pavement, hunched down in her duffle coat, the hood pulled low over her face to keep off the worst of the rain and sleet, and felt the slight bump of impact against her hip!

It wasn’t a painful or hard bump, but it did succeed in knocking Beth off balance, causing her to stagger slightly as she tried to prevent herself from toppling over. A battle she totally lost as the heel of one of her boots slid on the icy surface of the tarmac.

She fell down on her bottom—hard. Straight into one of the deep puddles that had formed at the side of the road.

Great. Not only was her outer clothing soaked through, but now her trousers and underwear were awash too!

‘Are you okay?’ demanded a gruffly concerned disembodied voice from amidst the blinding weather.

‘Apart from my injured pride, you mean?’ Beth muttered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘Yes, I’m absolutely fine,’ she assured the man ruefully.

‘What the hell did you think you were doing, stepping off the pavement in front of me like that?’ His shock at the near-disaster obviously assuaged, he obviously took this as an invitation to vent his own emotions. ‘Damn it, woman, I could have killed you!’ he added accusingly as his firm grasp on Beth’s arm pulled her easily to her feet.

‘I find that very hard to believe, when you were only driving at about five miles an hour!’ Beth drawled dryly, halting her attempts to wring the worst of the rainwater from the hem of her coat as she finally looked up at the man from beneath the wet bangs of her dark auburn hair.

And then looked again.

As any woman with red blood in her veins would have done!

Even on a winter morning, with the sleet and rain continuing to fall down relentlessly, soaking her even more than she already was, and with her dignity in tatters.

Well, if she was going to be knocked down, Beth decided fatalistically, it might as well be by a man so gorgeous he should have one of those sexy calendars dedicated just to him! He was certainly ruggedly handsome enough to play the lead in one of those action movies Beth enjoyed so much.

He was probably aged in his mid-thirties, and at least a foot taller than Beth’s diminutive five feet two, with slightly overlong dark hair curling damply about chiselled features of such hard masculine beauty they were mesmerizing: pale eyes—blue or grey? Beth couldn’t tell—a long and aristocratic nose, high cheekbones, and a sensual mouth above a sculptured jaw.

As for his hard and muscled body…

She was soaked through. Had been hit by a car and had fallen down in the road, which was undoubtedly going to make her late for work. Yet still Beth couldn’t help but admire the ruthless good looks of the driver of the car that had knocked her down!

What did that tell her?

That it was time her self-inflicted solitude came to an end, probably…

‘Look, I’ve assured you I’m perfectly okay,’ she said briskly, at the same time extracting her arm from that firm grasp. ‘You, on the other hand, are getting very wet.’ Beth frowned as she realised that the man wasn’t even wearing an overcoat, and that his dark and expensively tailored business suit was now as wet as her own clothing. ‘Please get back into your car—’

‘We’ll both get in my car,’ Nick decided impatiently, and as he once again took the woman’s arm with the intention of pulling her towards his Mercedes.

A move she instantly resisted. ‘I make it a rule never to get into the car of a man I don’t know!’

Nick turned back to her, taking in her appearance at a glance; the hood of the blue duffle coat was pulled over dark auburn hair that lay in wet tangles about a pale face dominated by huge blue eyes and freckles and all her clothing was absolutely soaked through—including the sodden black boots on her feet.

‘Will you just get inside?’ he asked impatiently as the woman still hung back once he had wrenched the passenger door open. ‘It may have escaped your notice but we’re causing a traffic jam!’ he added, with a pointed glance at the row of cars lining up behind his.

This man might be handsome as sin, Beth acknowledged as she reluctantly slid onto the passenger seat, but—that brief concern for having knocked her over aside—his manners certainly left a lot to be desired.

It was a deliciously warm and dry car, she realised within seconds of having the door slammed closed behind her. Warm, dry, and spaciously decadent, with pale blue leather upholstery and walnut veneer.

Although it seemed slightly less so once the darkly frowning driver had climbed in behind the wheel!

‘There really is no need—What are you doing?’ Beth voiced her alarm as he restarted the engine.

‘I’m getting us off the road and out of everyone else’s way, of course!’ An icy grey gaze raked over her scathingly before he turned the car round in the driveway and pulled over to the other side of the road, parking, and allowing the row of cars behind them to move out into the crawling traffic.

Of course. Obvious, once she thought about it. If she’d thought about it. Which Beth hadn’t.

She was surprised she could still function at all when she felt so numbed from walking to work in the icy rain and sleet for the past fifteen minutes!

Beth repressed a shiver as she pushed the wet hood of her coat back off her hair. ‘I really am okay, you know. Wet and cold, obviously, and my dignity is certainly bruised. But otherwise I’m unharmed.’

‘I doubt it’s only your dignity that’s bruised…’ her reluctant rescuer drawled wryly.

Beth turned to give him a frown; was this man—now that he was assured of her well-being—actually laughing at her?

Nick could see exactly how wet and cold the woman beside him was now that the hood of her coat no longer hid her face; her teeth were chattering and her cheeks had taken on a slightly blue tinge. ‘I’ll drive you home so that you can take a hot shower and change into some dry clothes,’ he offered briskly.

‘That won’t be necessary, thank you,’ the woman refused primly. ‘I’m going to be late for work as it is—’

‘Aren’t we all?’ Nick muttered, knowing there was no way that he was going to make his nine-thirty appointment now. ‘But you can’t possibly go into work like that—’

‘Of course I can,’ she dismissed as she pulled the hood back over her hair—only to give a grimace at its uncomfortable dampness. ‘I have some dry things I can change into once I get into school.’

‘You work at St James’s…?’ Nick eyed her sharply as he reassessed her appearance.

She was young, probably in her early to mid-twenties, and wore little or no make-up. Small gold studs in pierced earlobes. The clothes he could see—blue duffle coat, black trousers, black boots—looked serviceable rather than fashionable or designer label. Her gloveless hands were long and slender, the nails kept short, the fingers completely bare of rings.

Probably one of the catering staff. Or perhaps she helped out in the classroom, Nick decided. If it was the former she no doubt had a kitchen uniform she could change into while her own clothes were drying on a radiator somewhere.

‘It’s your call.’ He nodded abruptly, checking there was no traffic behind him before pulling out to drive back down to the entrance to the main school building.

This whole incident could have been so much worse, Nick acknowledged gratefully. He had been too distracted by the memory of that earlier unsatisfactory conversation with Bekka to even notice this woman stepping off the pavement in front of his car. Until he’d heard that telling thump, that was.

He glanced at the woman beside him briefly. ‘I’ll give you my business card—just in case you suffer any ill-effects from the accident later on today and need to contact me.’

Beth eyed the man beside her uncertainly, eyeing the expensive cut of his suit and the gold watch on his wrist bearing a discreet but very distinctive crest. The air of wealth made her wonder if he was a parent of one of the pupils at the school. She liked her job at St James’s. Enjoyed working at the private school for girls more than she would ever have believed possible when she had reluctantly accepted the position almost a year ago.

Having grown up as an only child of loving parents in a small village in the east of England, and having been educated at that same village school, Beth’s experience of private schools had been nil when she’d decided to make this move to London just over a year ago.

At the time Beth had thought she needed to get away—that after all that had happened a complete change of scenery was called for. She just hadn’t realised how completely different London was going to be from the village life she had known.

Her previous job had been at a large mixed middle school in the town nearest to her village home. It was attended by almost one thousand pupils, and she had been pleasantly surprised to find that she enjoyed the intimacy of working in a school with only three hundred girls.

The only drawback Beth had found was that parents tended to be more involved in a fee-paying school, and that the school and its staff were answerable directly to the governors, who were in turn answerable to those parents.

If the man sitting beside her, in his top-of-the-range Mercedes, really was the wealthy parent of one of the girls attending St James’s, then Beth knew she was going to have to tread carefully. ‘I really am completely unharmed, you know,’ she reassured him lightly. ‘If anything was to blame for the accident then it was my own carelessness in stepping out into the road in that way without looking!’

This woman really was quite beautiful now that she was drying out a little, Nick realised abstractedly. The blue of her eyes was a deep clear periwinkle, and she had a light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose, along with a slight flush in her creamy cheeks.

What colour would that dark auburn hair be once it was dry? he wondered. Red, of course. But would it be a bright carrot-red or—?

He was finally going quietly out of his mind…!

Ten months of trying to be both father and mother to Bekka, as well as juggling the demands of his extensive business interests to fit in with that dual role, must finally be taking their toll on him if he was starting to think the dripping wet waif and stray now sitting in his car—probably ruining his upholstery in the process—was in the least attractive!

He straightened abruptly to take his wallet out of the breast pocket of his damp jacket; unlike the woman beside him, Nick would have to go home and change into some dry clothes before going to his office. ‘Here.’ He pushed his business card into the woman’s hand. ‘I expect you to call me if you have any repercussions from your fall,’ he explained impatiently, as, instead of taking the card, the woman looked at him, questioning.

Beth gave the man at her side one last inquisitive look before glancing down at the card he had thrust into her hand, frowning as she read the words embossed in gold in the centre of that card: ‘Nicholas Steele, Steele Industries’, and both a landline and mobile number printed beneath.

Nicholas Steele…

Chapter Two

BETH knew the name Nicholas Steele, of course. Didn’t everyone? The man probably owned or had developed half of London, and he had even merited special mention by Miss Sheffield when Beth attended her initial interview. The headmistress at St James’s explained that the daughter of Nicholas Steele was a pupil at the school, and that, ‘Mr Steele is on the board of governors and also our most influential parent.’ For ‘influential’ Beth had known she should read wealthy!

This man was Nicholas Steele?

Rebekka Steele’s father?

Incredible!

Rebekka was such a lovely little girl, very warm and open, whereas this man—Well, he might still be as gorgeous as sin, but the last few minutes had also shown Beth that he could be arrogant, and there was a definite edge of ruthlessness to those sculptured lips.

‘There won’t be any repercussions,’ Beth declared firmly as she carefully placed the card on top of the dashboard before turning to open the passenger door.

Nicholas Steele’s hand on her arm prevented her from actually getting out of the car.

Beth turned to look at him irritably. ‘Yes?’

The perplexed frown between his brows deepened to a scowl before he slowly released her arm. ‘If you’re sure you’re okay…?’ he muttered gruffly.

She gave an abrupt nod before scrambling quickly out of the car, slamming the door behind her and hurrying into the school building.

‘The bell rang for the start of lessons some time ago, Mrs Morgan.’ Miss Sheffield’s voice rang out disapprovingly across the cavernous hallway.

Beth turned reluctantly to face the middle-aged headmistress. ‘It really is an awful morning, isn’t it?’

The other woman’s mouth tightened. ‘I’m pleased to say that all of my other members of staff seemed to take that fact into account by leaving home earlier than usual to ensure that they arrived on time!’

Maybe so, but then none of Miss Sheffield’s other members of staff had been delayed because they’d been knocked down by the school’s ‘most influential’ parent!

‘Am I speaking to Mrs Morgan?’ Nick prompted tersely when his telephone call was finally answered.

The two days since Bekka’s initial request for her biology teacher to be invited to their home on Christmas Day—correction, on Bekka’s birthday, which just happened to be Christmas Day!—had been decidedly uncomfortable ones for Nick, as his daughter had brought the subject up every time the two of them were together. Initially wheedling and cajoling, Bekka had soon become whining and tearful as Nick had steadfastly refused to give in to her pleas.

The frosty drive in to school this morning, the last day of term, had been the final straw as far as Nick was concerned. To the extent that Nick had eventually decided to at least telephone the woman; with any luck the widowed Mrs Morgan would have the good sense to refuse the invitation!

Whatever the outcome of this telephone call, Nick knew his Christmas was already shot to hell. Forced into being polite on Christmas Day to some old lady he didn’t know—and didn’t want to know, either!—if the woman accepted. Or given the silent treatment by his daughter if this Mrs Morgan turned down the invitation—because Nick had absolutely no doubt who Bekka was going to blame if her teacher refused to join them!

Wasn’t eight a little young for his daughter to be entering the terrible teens? Or perhaps Bekka was more like Janet, her petulant mother, than he had previously realised…

‘Speaking,’ Mrs Morgan suddenly confirmed gruffly.

And slightly familiarly, Nick recognised with a frown. Had he met Bekka’s biology teacher before? Perhaps during one of the numerous school events he had been expected to attend since becoming a governor of the school two years ago?

‘This is Nick Steele,’ he explained tersely. ‘Bekka Steele’s father—’

‘I know who you are, Mr Steele. Although I’m curious to know how you acquired my private mobile number?’ she prompted suspiciously.

She’s paranoid, Nick decided irritably. Paranoid, with a deeply husky voice that made Nick wonder if she actually did have that moustache and whiskery chin to go with it!

‘Your headmistress very kindly gave it to me—’

‘Miss Sheffield did?’ That soft voice sounded dismayed now rather than suspicious.

‘Once I had explained the reason for my call, yes,’ Nick answered with rising impatience. Really, he didn’t have time for this. He still had several meetings to get through today, before he would be able to leave his office just after lunch so that he could attend Bekka’s Nativity Play this afternoon—thankfully the last school event before it closed down for the holidays.

Which, with his parents flying to America to spend Christmas with his sister, and so not able to help look after Bekka as they usually did, was going to provide Nick with yet another headache.

How had Janet managed? Nick wondered, for what had to be the hundredth time. Although their divorce three years ago had resulted in Janet being more than adequately provided for. Enough so that she didn’t have to juggle a job as well as motherhood, in the way that Nick was trying to juggle his business interests and recently acquired single parenthood.

Get over it, he instructed himself impatiently.

This was just the way it was.

The way it was going to remain.

Nick had no intention of ever remarrying. Things might be hard now, with a constant juggling act of Nick’s time, but Bekka wasn’t going to be with him for ever, whereas a second wife would be!

Hiring a nanny was the obvious answer, of course, but Nick had already tried that—twice—when Bekka had first come to live with him after Janet died. Both those nannies, for different reasons, had been a disaster.

The first nanny, a woman in her fifties Nick had thought would be a perfect surrogate grandmothertype, had turned out to possess the disposition of a drill sergeant. The second, much younger nanny, had been waiting for him naked in his bed when he’d returned late home from work one evening!

As Bekka was actually at school most of the time, and his parents had always been willing to help out with Bekka whenever they could, Nick had decided, after those two disastrous attempts, to dispense with the nanny idea altogether.

‘And exactly what is the reason for your call, Mr Steele?’ Mrs Morgan spoke slowly now.

Get it over with, Nick, he instructed himself impatiently. Ask the woman, make polite murmurings at her refusal, and then just hang up. ‘Bekka would like—Bekka and I were wondering if you would care to spend Christmas Day with the two of us…?’

There was complete silence on the other end of the telephone line. As the woman tried to think up an excuse for refusing, Nick hoped.

‘Are you being serious, Mr Steele?’

Nick scowled darkly as he detected the tone of disbelief. ‘Of course I’m being serious, Mrs Morgan. Christmas Day also happens to be Bekka’s birthday, and she—Bekka and I,’ he corrected again through gritted teeth, ‘would love you to spend the day with the two of us.’

There was another loaded silence. Finally, there was a gruff reply. ‘Let me see if I’ve understood you correctly, Mr Steele. You knocked me down with your car two days ago. I’ve had the most dreadful cold as a result of the soaking I received. And now you’re inviting me to spend Christmas Day with you and Bekka…?’

Nick reeled from the absolute shock of realising that paranoid and old Mrs Morgan was, in fact, the definitely un-paranoid and very young red-haired woman he had accidentally knocked over with his car two days ago…!

Chapter Three

‘HAVE I understood the situation correctly, Mr Steele?’ Beth repeated as she stood in the privacy of the corridor outside the teachers’ staffroom, talking on her mobile. ‘Mr Steele…?’ she prompted sharply as he still made no reply.

It had been a struggle for Beth to come into school at all for these last two days of term, after she had woken on the morning following that disastrous meeting with Nicholas Steele with a debilitating cough and a sore throat.

She was actually feeling a little better today, but not enough to deal with the lethally attractive and—as one of the school governors and the parent of one of her pupils—potentially dangerous Nicholas Steele!

Her fingers curled tightly about her mobile. ‘Mr Steele—’

‘You can’t possibly be the same Mrs Morgan my daughter talks about all the time!’ he burst out disbelievingly.

Beth frowned slightly. ‘Obviously I have no idea whether or not Bekka has been boring you by talking about me, Mr Steele, but I assure you I am indeed your daughter’s biology teacher, Bethan Morgan.’

‘Mrs Morgan?’ he bit out harshly. ‘The widowed Mrs Morgan?’

Beth felt a familiar ache in her chest at the description: ‘the widowed Mrs Morgan’.

The accurate description.

Her name was Morgan, and she was a widow.

Only twenty-six years old, and already a widow.

Shockingly.

So much so that Beth still sometimes had difficulty in believing it herself. In accepting that all of Ben’s incredible happy-go-lucky life force, along with that of Beth’s parents, had been wiped out in a single moment. Gone for ever, when Ben had crashed the car he had been driving the three of them in two years ago.

She and Ben had been the same age. Had grown up together in the same village. Attended school together. Gone off to university together. Become engaged, and then married once they had both attained their degrees—Beth in teaching, Ben in economics.

Losing both her parents and Ben in that sudden way had been as painful for Beth as she imagined having a limb severed might be.

She certainly didn’t appreciate having Nick Steele—a man who had been less than sympathetic after knocking her down two days ago—call and invite ‘the widowed Mrs Morgan’ to spend Christmas with him and his daughter. As if Beth were some sort of charity case. A lonely widow in need of his pity!

Beth might spend a lot of time alone, might be lonely on occasion, but it was a loneliness of choice; she had spent the past two Christmases alone because she wanted it that way, not because she had nowhere else to go. She had plenty of aunts and uncles, grandparents too, that she could have spent the holidays with. She had just chosen not to—too aware, still, of their sympathetic glances, the awkward omissions in conversation of all mention of both her parents and Ben.

‘Bethan…?’ Nick prompted when the woman’s silence became uncomfortably long. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I seemed less than polite just now, but—’ He broke off with an impatient shake of his head. ‘Surely you can understand my surprise at discovering that Bekka’s teacher, Mrs Morgan, and the woman from two days ago are one and the same?’

‘I perfectly understand, Mr Steele,’ Bethan Morgan came back softly. ‘I also accept, given the circumstances, that Bekka must have somehow forced you to make the invitation for me to join the two of you on Christmas Day.’

‘I rarely allow anyone to force me into doing anything, Mrs Morgan!’ Nick cut in; he preferred to think that Bekka had coerced rather than forced him!

‘I—Excuse me.’ Beth broke off as she was beset by a sudden fit of coughing.

‘Have you seen a doctor about that?’ Nick frowned at the realisation that this woman’s spill onto the icy wet road two days ago was probably responsible for the cold she had now.

That her huskily sore throat was the reason Nick hadn’t immediately recognised her voice on the telephone a few minutes ago…!

‘Believe it or not, I feel a lot better today,’ she dismissed gruffly once the coughing had ceased.

‘Look, I’m coming to school later this afternoon to attend the Nativity Play.’ Nick frowned his impatience, aware that the minutes were ticking by; he hadn’t expected this telephone call to take as long as it was. ‘Perhaps we could discuss this again then…?’

‘I assure you there’s nothing more to discuss, Mr Steele,’ Beth said hoarsely. ‘I’m aware of the honour you’re bestowing by issuing the invitation, of course, but—’

‘Honour?’ Nick echoed sharply. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

Beth gave a weary sigh, longing to get back to the hot cup of tea she had left in the staffroom. ‘Bekka is a lovely little girl, with a kind heart, and I like her tremendously.’ In fact she still found it hard to believe that Bekka was this particular man’s daughter! ‘But those things don’t change the fact that your invitation is completely inappropriate.’

There was a brief, chilling silence. ‘In what way “inappropriate”…?’ Nick Steele finally snapped.

‘In that it’s totally unsuitable for a teacher to spend Christmas Day at the home of one of her pupils.’

‘I also happen to be one of the school governors,’ he pointed out impatiently.

‘Exactly,’ Beth said with feeling.

‘Miss Sheffield, your esteemed headmistress, thinks that your joining Bekka and I for Christmas Day is “a charming idea”…’ Nick Steele drawled derisively.

Beth gave an inward groan. ‘You told her the reason you needed to speak to me?’

‘I told you I had,’ he said irritably.

‘But—’ Beth gave a dazed shake of her head. She might have more of a problem getting out of this if Miss Sheffield already knew that one of the school governors, and the school’s ‘most influential parent’, was asking one of her teachers to join him and his daughter for Christmas Day. ‘You had absolutely no right to do that, Mr Steele.’

‘Bekka assured me that you don’t have anywhere else to go on Christmas Day, but maybe she was wrong…?’

Beth bristled. ‘My plans for Christmas are none of your concern, Mr Steele.’

‘Look, Mrs Morgan, I have several meetings I have to get through this morning so that I can be free to attend the Nativity Play later today. Why don’t you come out with Bekka and me for a meal afterwards and we can—?’

‘No, Mr Steele,’ Beth cut in firmly.

‘Why not?’

‘Again, it would be…inappropriate.’

‘I’ll let you pay the bill if you think that would make it more appropriate,’ he came back mockingly. ‘Or maybe you imagine that this invitation to dinner is just a preliminary to my trying to get you into bed…?’

‘Really, Mr Steele!’ Beth gasped.

‘Don’t tell me that I’ve actually succeeded in rendering you speechless!’ he taunted.

‘You’re being utterly ridiculous—’

‘No more so than the reasons you’ve given for refusing my invitation to join Bekka and me on Christmas Day,’ he retorted.

Perfectly legitimate reasons as far as Beth was concerned. Besides, she didn’t want to spend Christmas Day with Nick Steele—

She didn’t want to spend Christmas Day with Nick Steele…? Not Bekka, but specifically Nick Steele?

He unnerved her, Beth realised. All that forceful energy and sexual magnetism disturbed her in ways she couldn’t explain. In ways she didn’t want to explain!

She straightened impatiently. ‘I’m not some sort of charity case, Mr Steele—’

‘My invitation has nothing to do with charity. In fact, you would be doing me a favour if you agreed to come,’ he continued heavily. ‘This will be our first Christmas since Bekka’s mother died of cancer, and—’ Nick broke off with a self-disgusted grimace; he was starting to sound as wheedling as Bekka now!

Damn it, he hadn’t even wanted Bekka’s biology teacher to spend Christmas Day with the two of them. He’d been protesting against that happening for days now.

When he had believed he was having a complete stranger foisted on him…

When he had thought Mrs Morgan was an elderly and possibly bewhiskered widow.

Instead she was a young woman in her twenties. A young and beautiful woman in her twenties.

A very prickly young and beautiful woman in her twenties…!

‘And…?’ Beth prompted as Nick’s continued silence began to stretch awkwardly between them.

‘And having a third person around may just make it less of an ordeal for both of us,’ he finished.

Beth moistened dry lips. ‘I hadn’t realised your wife had died so recently.’

‘Ten months ago. And Janet and I had been divorced for over two years before she died,’ Nick Steele explained stiffly.

It didn’t sound as if it had been an amicable divorce, Beth recognised ruefully. Even so, it would still have been a shock to Nick, as well as to his young daughter, when Janet Steele died.

Was Beth allowing the sudden and painful death of Ben and her own parents to emotionally draw her in…?

If she was, then it wasn’t on Nick Steele’s behalf but Bekka’s, Beth told herself firmly. The arrogantly forceful Nick Steele was a man who gave every indication of being well able to take care of himself. And his emotions. If he had any…

She was being unfair now, Beth recognised irritably. Allowing her own prejudice towards the man to colour her opinions; Nick obviously loved his young daughter very much if he was willing to put up with having a stranger in his home on Christmas Day in an effort to make it as pleasant as possible for Bekka.

Beth had preferred it when she had just been able to think of Nick Steele as being impossibly arrogant!

‘I suppose I could go out for a meal with the two of you this evening—’

‘That’s settled, then.’ Nick cut briskly across her tentative acceptance. ‘I have a meeting to go to now, so we’ll sort out the details later this afternoon,’ he dismissed, before ringing off abruptly.

Leaving Beth feeling slightly dazed as she stood alone in the corridor, staring down at her mobile as if it were all the inanimate object’s fault that she now found herself in this uncomfortable position!

‘I have to stay here and make sure none of the girls forgets anything, and then help tidy away before I’ll be able to join you and Bekka,’ Beth told Nick after he had sought her out backstage once the school Nativity Play had ended.

Her shoulder-length hair, now it was dry, was a deep rich auburn, Nick noted admiringly. A deep rich auburn that was a perfect foil for her pale complexion and those blue eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes.

Eyes that somehow managed to avoid looking directly at Nick as he leant casually back against the wall, well out of the way of the crowd of excited and chattering girls as they came out of the dressing room before hurrying off in search of their parents.

No doubt about it. Tiny and slender, in a fitted pale blue sweater that outlined small firm breasts and a flat abdomen, and tailored black trousers that did the same for the rounded curve of her bottom and slender legs, Bethan Morgan was a delicately lovely young woman.

She certainly bore little resemblance today to that bedraggled waif and stray that Nick had met two days ago!

‘Mr Steele…?’

Nick’s gaze narrowed to icy indifference as he realised he had been staring at her for too long. ‘As we’re going to be spending the evening together I think it might be better if you called me Nick.’

Beth continued to keep her gaze on the level of Nick’s perfectly knotted tie, totally flustered by his presence backstage. And totally aware, after her first brief glance at him, of how elegantly attractive he looked in a dark business suit and pale blue silk shirt that emphasised the width of his shoulders and chest, and tapered waist and long muscled legs.

‘Bethan…?’ The amusement could be heard in Nick Steele’s voice.

Beth flicked an irritated glance up at that toohandsome face. And instantly wished she hadn’t as she found her attention captured by amused grey eyes set in a hard and yet sensually magnetic face. A face guaranteed to set a woman’s pulse racing.

Including her own?

Unfortunately, yes!

Strangely—because this man was the complete opposite of the blond-haired, blue-eyed and totally uncomplicated Ben…

Or the young man she’d had a noncommittal dinner with a couple of months ago—her first date since Ben had died.

During that first year after Ben and her parents had been killed Beth had been too numbed by their loss to do any more than simply function on a day-today basis. She had been an only child from a closeknit family. And she had loved Ben all of her life. He had been her best friend as well as her husband.

But once Beth had got over the shock, accepted that her parents and Ben were really gone, she’d had to get out of the place she’d grown up in and where she and Ben had made their own home after their wedding.

London—its sheer size, and the amount of people who lived here—had been hard for Beth to cope with at first. But slowly she had been drawn into the pace of life here, making several friends amongst the other teaching staff, and occasionally joining them on visits to the cinema or out for a meal. A couple of months ago she had accepted the dinner invitation from the young man who came into school twice a week to teach the girls how to play the guitar. He had proved to be a nice, pleasant man, with whom Beth felt comfortable, and although she had refused any more of his invitations the two of them remained on friendly terms.

In sharp contrast to Nick Steele, who made Beth feel decidedly uncomfortable!

She certainly didn’t want to feel this disturbing physical awareness of him!

There was an air of challenge about Nick Steele, a dangerous edge that told Beth she should steer well clear of him. That comfortable wasn’t a word used in connection with this man’s company!

She straightened. ‘I think, for Bekka’s sake, it might be better if we stick to Mr Steele and Mrs Morgan.’

‘In case you haven’t noticed, Bethan, Bekka isn’t here.’ Nick regarded her with narrowed eyes.

‘I prefer Beth,’ she corrected distractedly. ‘And Bekka will be out in just a few minutes, so—’

‘Are you always this uptight?’ Nick frowned; the woman was as tense as a skittish horse getting ready to bolt!

Irritation glittered in her deep blue eyes as Beth looked up at him. ‘I told you—I’ve had a cold, and the end of the Christmas term is always hard work, and—Melanie, you’ve dropped your wings,’ she called out helpfully as she noticed one of the angels had dropped her tinsel wings in the middle of the hallway. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, Mr Steele,’ she told him distractedly. ‘As it’s the last day of term I really do have to ensure that the girls remember to take everything home with them.’

‘And I’m preventing you from doing that?’ Nick drawled with interest.

‘You’re…distracting me, yes.’ A frown marred her creamy brow at the admission. ‘If you tell me the name of the restaurant you’re going to I can meet you and Bekka there later,’ she added briskly.

Nick looked at her intently. ‘Why do I have the feeling you have no intention of meeting us there later…?’

Probably because that was exactly what Beth had planned!

Seeing Nick Steele again, realising how much his ruggedly handsome presence disturbed and unsettled her, Beth had decided it might be better if she just conveniently ‘forgot’ the name of the restaurant as soon as he told it to her. Then, if Nick decided to call her mobile, to see where she had got to, she could always claim her cold as an excuse for not joining him and Bekka.

A plan Nick had seen through easily, it seemed!

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mr Steele.’ Beth snapped her irritation. ‘As I told you, I simply have to finish up here first before I’m able to leave.’

‘Then Bekka and I will wait outside for you in the car.’

Beth’s hands clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. ‘I am perfectly capable of getting myself to a restaurant!’

‘It’s no trouble at all for Bekka and I to wait in the car for you.’

His silver-grey eyes openly challenged her now.

Remembering the comfort of this man’s car two days ago, Beth was sure it wasn’t any trouble. ‘Very well,’ she agreed tightly. ‘I should be able to join you in about fifteen minutes or so.’

A mocking smile curved those sculptured lips. ‘I’ll look forward to it!’

Beth stared after Nick in frustration as she watched him greet the excited Bekka with a hug. The little girl was as dark-haired and grey-eyed as her father, and the two of them chatted warmly together as they went outside.

Beth felt hot and bothered by this most recent encounter with Nick Steele. Flustered. Agitated. Her heart thumping. Her palms damp. Her legs trembling slightly.

And, as much as Beth hated to admit it, she knew she was feeling all of those things because she was going to be spending the evening in the company of the disturbing Nick Steele…!

Chapter Four

‘DADDY is taking me and some of my friends bowling tomorrow afternoon, Mrs Morgan, would you like to come with us?’ Bekka invited excitedly once she had finished eating her dessert.

To Nick’s surprise the evening at Bekka’s favourite Italian restaurant had gone surprisingly smoothly. Of course that could be because Beth had very noticeably—and deliberately?—addressed very few remarks directly at him, Nick acknowledged wryly. Instead she had confined the majority of her conversation to Bekka, and the two of them were obviously getting on well together.

Well enough, it seemed, for Bekka to issue an invitation for Beth Morgan to join them tomorrow!

Nick grimaced. ‘Mrs Morgan has been so busy at school with all of you that she probably needs to go out and do her Christmas shopping tomorrow afternoon, Beks.’

His daughter turned to her teacher in disappointment. ‘Do you?’

Beth had just been quietly congratulating herself on how well the evening had gone—how little she’d actually had to even acknowledge Nick Steele’s presence when Bekka was quite happy to do most of the talking. And now this!

Of course Beth didn’t have to go out Christmas shopping tomorrow afternoon; she had already given presents to the friends she had made at the school, and family presents had been sent in the post.

But the fact that Nick Steele was obviously as reluctant to have her join them as Beth was to go was certainly less than flattering!

She shot him an irritated glance before answering Bekka. ‘I do have some shopping to do tomorrow afternoon,’ she confirmed; she was going food shopping not Christmas present shopping.

In sharp contrast to the family and friends that had always filled her parents’ festively decorated home at Christmas, Beth would only need enough food to get her through Christmas Day. Which should amount to one very small chicken, a seasonal vegetable pack, and a single portion Christmas pudding with a small carton of cream.

And she wouldn’t even need that if she decided to accept Nick Steele’s invitation to spend Christmas Day with him and Bekka.

She wasn’t seriously thinking about accepting, was she?

It might be worth it just to see the look on Nick’s face!

Perhaps not…

‘But I’m sure that your father will ensure that you and your friends have a lovely time,’ she answered Bekka lightly.

Nick wasn’t conceited enough to believe that every beautiful woman he met found him attractive, but at thirty-five, with one failed marriage behind him, Nick wasn’t naïve or inexperienced either, and he knew exactly how and when a beautiful woman responded to him.

A response Beth was obviously determined not to feel…

That skittishness she had demonstrated towards him earlier certainly hadn’t gone away. If anything, Beth had become even more noticeably distant towards him as the evening progressed.

Irritatingly so…

He looked at her now from behind slightly lowered lids. ‘Perhaps Mrs Morgan doesn’t bowl, Bekka.’

‘Of course I bowl.’ Beth frowned her irritation.

He shrugged. ‘Then why not do your shopping in the morning and join us at the bowling alley in the afternoon? It’s Bekka’s pre-birthday treat,’ he added.

Beth eyed Nick with a frown, knowing too well from his taunting expression that he didn’t really want her to change her plans for tomorrow and join them. That he was just playing with her—like a predatory cat toying with a mouse.

‘I think it’s time we left, don’t you?’ She lightly changed the subject. ‘It’s been an exciting day, and I think someone is ready for bed,’ she added in a teasing voice as Bekka tried to stifle a yawn.

‘Oh, do we have to, Daddy?’ Bekka turned to her father in appeal. ‘Mrs Morgan hasn’t agreed to join us for my birthday on Christmas Day yet.’

And Beth knew, much as she might have enjoyed Nick’s discomfort, that she wasn’t going to agree, either!

A single evening spent in Nick Steele’s company was enough to tell her that she didn’t want to repeat the experience. That she wasn’t comfortable with the way she felt in his company. That she didn’t like the way he made her so totally aware of her own femininity. That she would much rather have continued to remain in ignorance of that body-tingling awareness, too…!

She and Ben had loved each other, had enjoyed making love together and been totally comfortable with each other physically.

Nick Steele’s innate and nerve-tingling sensuality continued to unnerve her!

As if aware of that discomfort, Nick drawled. ‘Come back to the house for coffee and a chat, and I can drive you home later.’

‘No!’ Beth’s heart had jolted in her chest. ‘I mean…’ She gave a slightly flustered shake of her head as she saw the unmistakable laughter in the depths of those silver-grey eyes. ‘I couldn’t possibly allow you to leave Bekka alone in the house while you drive me home.’

‘I wouldn’t be leaving Bekka on her own. I have a live-in housekeeper, Beth,’ he explained mildly.

A mildness completely at odds with the challenging gleam in his eyes.

‘Even so…’

‘It’s civilised to sit and drink coffee together after a meal, Beth.’ Nick signalled to the waiter to bring him the bill.

‘It also keeps me awake if I drink it late at night.’

‘Really?’ Nick arched a mocking brow. ‘I’ll make sure I remember that…’ he murmured throatily—and had the satisfaction of seeing the blush that instantly brightened Beth’s creamy cheeks before he had to turn his attention to paying the bill.

Nick couldn’t deny that he found Beth intriguing. She could only be in her mid-twenties, but in those few short years she had been married and widowed. Which meant she had to be physically experienced. And yet she blushed at even a hint of flirtation from him…

What had her husband been like? Nick wondered as he escorted Beth and Bekka from the restaurant. Young, presumably. Perhaps her first love? And no doubt the man she had assumed she would spend the rest of her life with, only to have him cruelly taken from her?

Nick couldn’t help wondering how many lovers Beth had had since her husband’s death…

Beth was too nervous, as she waited for Nick Steele to come back down the stairs after putting Bekka to bed, to sit down on the gold brocade sofa in the elegantly furnished sitting room of the three-storey London townhouse. A room dominated by a lavishly decorated Christmas tree with dozens of foil-wrapped parcels beneath that made her own meagre pile beneath the small tree in her apartment look slightly ridiculous.

As ridiculous as the idea of her spending Christmas Day here!

As ridiculous as her being here now.

Not that Nick had given Beth any choice in the matter; he had just driven straight here, Beth’s earlier refusal obviously completely forgotten. Or just ignored.

Most likely the latter, Beth accepted irritably. As she already knew, this man was a law unto himself—a man who refused to take no for an answer. Arrogance personified, in fact.

Well, Beth didn’t appreciate being manipulated in this way, and she would tell Nick so as soon as he returned from putting Bekka to bed.

In the meantime, Beth couldn’t resist walking over to look at the numerous photographs that adorned the top of the shiny black piano standing in the bay window that looked out onto the now moonlit garden. Dozens of photographs. All of them featuring Bekka. From babyhood to now.

Nick was easily recognisable in a lot of the photographs. His hair had been slightly longer when Bekka was a baby, his expression more relaxed then too, not as hard and cynical as it was now.

Several of the photographs also showed a tall and beautiful blonde-haired woman. Obviously Bekka’s mother, Janet Steele—short blonde hair surrounding a face dominated by pale blue eyes, a short, perfect nose, and full and pouting lips above a slightly rounded jaw.

‘I see you’ve discovered the rogues’ gallery,’ Nick rasped behind her.

Beth gave a guilty start as she turned to face him, frowning slightly as she saw the laden silver tray he carried. ‘I told you I don’t drink coffee this late at night.’

‘Which is why I made you tea,’ Nick said as he placed the tray down on a low coffee table in front of the sofa before straightening.

He had removed his jacket and tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, the open neckline revealing the start of the dark hair growing on his chest, Beth noted with some alarm. Just as she noticed the way the pale blue silk shirt was fitted to the muscled width of his shoulders and the flatness of his abdomen and tapered waist.

Dear Lord, this man was gorgeous!

Nick’s dark brows quirked as he saw Beth Morgan’s obvious discomfort. ‘Would you like to be mother…?’

She swallowed hard. ‘I—yes. Just one cup, and then I really have to go,’ she muttered awkwardly. As she moved to sit on the sofa to pour coffee and tea, a beautiful marmalade-coloured cat curled up on the cushion beside her.

‘No cream or sugar for me, thanks,’ Nick dismissed as he eased another cat aside, so that he could drop down into one of the armchairs to study Beth from a distance. ‘And are you? A mother?’ he enquired as she pushed back that silky curtain of auburn hair to look across at him questioningly.

‘I—no.’ She turned away. ‘Ben and I had decided to wait for a while before starting a family, and—No,’ she repeated abruptly as she crossed the room to hand him the cup of coffee.

Nick took the cup. ‘Ben was your husband…?’

‘Yes.’ Her face was slightly pale as she moved to sit back on the sofa, absently stroking the marmalade-coloured cat as it stretched lazily beside her.

‘Just push him away if he’s being a nuisance.’

She looked startled. ‘What…?’

‘The cat,’ Nick replied. ‘Bekka has collected a menagerie of pets in the last ten months. The insane dog is shut in the kitchen.’

Beth shrugged narrow shoulders as she continued to stroke the purring cat. ‘I like animals.’

‘You must have been very young when you married…?’

She frowned as Nick reverted to the previous subject. ‘Twenty-one,’ she acknowledged stiffly.

‘Were you married for long…?’

‘Three years.’

‘When did your husband die?’

‘Two years ago,’ she answered tersely. ‘Look, Mr Steele—’

‘Did you still love him when he died?’

Beth stood up abruptly. ‘What sort of question is that?’

‘A valid one.’ Nick Steele shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘Janet and I were married for seven years—by the end of it we could barely stand the sight of each other!’

‘Oh.’ Beth wasn’t quite sure what to say in response to that remark. ‘Bekka seems to have adjusted well since her mother died…’

‘She has, yes,’ Nick acknowledged indulgently. ‘I, on the other hand, am still floundering around in the dark, trying to be both mother and father to her,’ he acknowledged ruefully.

‘Then maybe you should stop trying…?’

‘Sorry?’ Nick gave a perplexed frown.

‘Maybe I’m interfering, but—’

‘Oh, by all means interfere, Beth,’ Nick invited.

She chewed on her bottom lip with small white teeth as she formulated her reply. ‘You can’t actually be both mother and father to Bekka,’ she finally murmured softly. ‘And I’m not sure you should even try…’ She gave a rueful grimace. ‘At the moment Bekka is still a lovely and adorable little girl, but—’

‘But she may not continue to be so if I don’t stop trying so hard?’ Nick finished.

‘Exactly.’ Beth Morgan looked deeply relieved that he had understood what she was trying to say without her actually having to say it.

And what she had to say did have merit, Nick realised. Bekka was becoming more and more demanding, rather than less so, as the days, weeks, months passed. A fact Nick had noted himself only two days ago, and had attributed to Bekka being more like Janet than he had realised, when his young daughter had slammed out of his car when he’d refused to invite her biology teacher to join them for Christmas Day.

He looked across at Beth Morgan in consideration. ‘That’s a very wise observation for one so young…’

‘Sometimes it’s just easier to see something looking in, rather than being involved in it yourself.’

Nick stood up slowly to cross the room and stand only inches away from Beth, his gaze searching as it rested on the fragile beauty of her face. ‘And you don’t get involved, do you…?’ he said slowly.

‘What…?’ Beth felt completely unnerved by Nick Steele’s close proximity, by the warmth in that pale grey gaze as he looked down at her with such intensity.

That nervousness turned to liquid, burning heat as he slowly raised his hand to move his knuckles in a light caress against the heat of her cheek…

Chapter Five

‘I—WHAT do you think you’re doing?’ Beth had wanted to sound indignant, dismissive. Instead her voice was husky. Breathless.

‘I’m sure you already know the answer to that, Beth,’ Nick murmured throatily, looking down at her as she swallowed hard, her cheek hot against the back of his hand.

She moistened her lips with the pink tip of her tongue. A totally sensuous caress that caught and easily held Nick’s attention. He felt the urge, the need, to run his own tongue across those soft and slightly parted lips before kissing her. He wanted to take her in his arms and mould those slender and delicate curves against him.

Beth couldn’t move, held captive by the sudden darkening of Nick’s gaze as he looked down hungrily at her mouth, unable to do more than groan low in her throat as his arms moved about her to draw her slowly towards him.

God, his body was so warm. Hot. And hard. His chest against her breasts feeling like steel encased in velvet, and his thighs—

Beth raised her panicked gaze to his. ‘I don’t think we should be doing this, Nick…!’

His eyes were dark and smouldering. ‘Why not?’

Because Beth could feel herself reacting, responding to the sheer intimacy of having Nick’s body moulded against hers. Her breasts felt full and heavy, the tips ultra-sensitive, and there was a fluid heat between her thighs, a swelling moistening of those delicate tissues.

She didn’t want to feel this way! Didn’t want to have this response to Nick Steele, a man far beyond her reach in physical experience!

‘We both know how ultimately damaging any relationship between the two of us would be!’ she reminded him.

‘But we already have a relationship, Beth…’

Beth stiffened. ‘What…?’

He gave a slow, seductive smile. ‘You’re Bekka’s teacher, and I’m her father.’

‘Exactly!’ Beth managed to push her hands in between them, against that warm and velvet-hard chest. ‘Let me go, Nick!’ she insisted. ‘You have to let me go now.’ Tears stung her eyes as she looked up at him pleadingly.

Nick’s gaze narrowed as he saw the tears on Beth’s lashes. Those tears were a complete contrast to the way her body had melted against his seconds ago. ‘How long has it been for you, Beth…?’ he probed softly.

She stilled. ‘Has what been for me…?’

‘Hell…!’ Nick gave a groan as the truth of this situation suddenly hit him. ‘There’s been no one for you at all since your husband died, has there…?’

She blinked. ‘In what way?’

In any way!

Anyone looking at Beth Morgan could see that she was beautiful, with a body that was ripe for physical arousal. But those tears balancing so precariously on her lashes also told Nick that there had been no other man in her life—or her bed—since the death of her husband two years ago.

He had been utterly faithful to Janet during the years of their marriage, but since their separation and divorce there had been numerous women to briefly share his bed. Contrary to what he might have thought—hoped—the same obviously wasn’t true of Beth!

He gave a firm shake of his head and dropped his arms back to his sides before he stepped away from her. ‘I can’t be that man for you, Beth,’ he rasped harshly.

‘What man?’ She looked slightly dazed.

‘That man,’ he said again pointedly, his expression grim. ‘The man you will want to fall in love with. That you would want to fall in love with you.’ He should have realised sooner—should have known—

‘I didn’t start any of this—’

‘No, I did,’ Nick accepted. ‘And I have nothing to offer any woman except a casual relationship.’

‘Aren’t you being conceited in thinking I would want any sort of relationship with you?’ Beth glared her indignation at him.

Nick searched her face for several seconds, knowing by the flush in her cheek, the slightly wild glitter in her eyes and the hard swell of her breasts, that no matter how Beth might deny it, wish it wasn’t true, she had been as aroused by their closeness just now as he was.

‘I apologise.’ He nodded abruptly. ‘You’re right—it is time I drove you home now.’

It was a relief, now that Beth no longer had Nick’s body pressed so intimately against her own, to be able to breathe again. To think coherently. To realise how close she had come to having Nick Steele kiss her. To allowing him to do so much more than just kiss her…

What was wrong with her? How could she have allowed herself to respond, to feel desire for Nick, when she already knew exactly how wrong he was for her?

Nick was sophisticated, handsome, rich and powerful, and experienced in ways Beth couldn’t even imagine—in ways she didn’t want to imagine. She certainly didn’t want to be the next in the long line of women in Nick Steele’s life. Or his bed!

Then why did her body still tremble from that near-kiss? Why could she still feel the imprint of his hard body pressing against her own? Why did her breasts still ache for the touch, the caress, that hadn’t happened?

She would be an idiot, a fool, if she allowed herself to see Nick as anything more than a governor of the school she worked at and the parent of one of her young students.

‘Ready?’ he prompted, not waiting for Beth’s reply before striding out into the hallway, already holding the front door open for her to leave by the time Beth joined him there only seconds later.

As anxious to be rid of her now as she was to go, Beth thought.

Not surprisingly, the drive to her home was completed in strained silence. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ Beth murmured quietly, once Nick had parked his car outside her apartment building.

‘Very nicely said,’ Nick drawled, and his hand came out to grasp her arm to stop her from getting out of the car. ‘Can I take it you’ve definitely decided not to come bowling with us tomorrow?’

Beth turned back with a frown, her face appearing very pale in the moonlight. ‘Nor will I be joining you and Bekka for Christmas Day.’

Nick’s eyes glittered in the semi-darkness. ‘Or setting eyes on me ever again if you can help it?’ he guessed easily.

Her mouth firmed. ‘No.’

He gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘Nothing really happened tonight, Beth, so stop beating yourself up.’

She chewed briefly on her bottom lip. ‘I don’t know what you mean…’

‘Liar,’ he replied as he turned fully in his seat to face her. ‘If I had to guess, I would say you’ve only ever had one lover in your life—’

‘That’s none of your—’

‘A man who died two years ago,’ Nick continued. ‘Two years, Beth!’ he repeated incredulously. ‘Isn’t it time—past time—that you moved on?’

Her chin rose defensively. ‘By having an affair with you, I suppose you mean?’

‘I thought we had already agreed that probably isn’t a good idea.’ Nick gave a hard smile. ‘You did nothing wrong this evening, Beth—nothing you have to feel guilty about.’

‘I don’t feel in the least guilty!’ Beth assured him.

‘I would call you a liar again, but twice in one evening may be once too many!’ he said sceptically.

Her cheeks burned. ‘I’m not lying—’

‘Are you saying you didn’t want me earlier…?’

Beth drew herself up stiffly. ‘You think you know everything, don’t you, Nick? Think that every woman you meet has to fall down adoringly at your feet?’ She gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘Well, think again! I didn’t want you earlier, and I don’t want you now, either!’

Nick considered her accusations. ‘One—no, I don’t think I know everything. Two—I would prefer that any woman who did feel the need to fall down in front of me adoringly concentrated her attentions on another part of my anatomy entirely. And three…’ his voice lowered huskily ‘…deny it all you want, Beth, but you did want me.’

Her eyes flashed like twin sapphires. ‘You’re a conceited, arrogant—’

Nick silenced her in the easiest and quickest way possible—by claiming her mouth with his own and so cutting off all further conversation.

She tasted as good, as headily erotic, as Nick had imagined she would, her lips soft and delectable against his as she gave a low groan of capitulation, her lips parting invitingly beneath his.

Beth’s senses were assaulted with sensation. The heat of Nick’s lips as they moved hungrily against hers. The hardness of his chest against her aroused breasts. And the heady pleasure of his hands as they moved restlessly down the length of her spine before he pulled her hard against him in crushing need.

His hair felt dark and silky as her fingers became entangled in its thickness at his nape, and his skin was hot to the touch as his lips continued their heady and hungry assault on hers, his teeth gently biting before the hard thrust of his tongue entered the hot cavern of her mouth.

She did want this man, Beth acknowledged achingly. She wanted Nick with a hot fierceness that totally shocked her. Knew that she had felt this physical awareness of him from the very first moment she had looked up two days ago and seen him through the rain and sleet after she had tumbled into the road in front of his car.

Her throat arched as Nick dragged his mouth from hers to move down the length of her throat and then slowly up again, and Beth quivered with pleasure as she felt the rasp of his tongue against her earlobe.

Nick felt Beth arch against him as his teeth gently bit on that sensitive flesh, feeling the hard-tipped thrust of those soft breasts against his chest, and unable to resist the temptation of moving his hands beneath her sweater.

His mouth captured Beth’s again as her skin burned against the coolness of his hands, her back soft and silky, the skin firm over the curve of her ribcage, the thrust of her breasts bare as he cupped her there, the nipple firm as a berry as he ran the soft pad of his thumb rhythmically across it.

Beth groaned, her fingers tightening in his hair, and Nick felt the trembling of her body as she arched into those caresses in silent pleading.

Nick’s body was one pleasurable ache—a hard, pulsing ache that couldn’t be fully satisfied in the close confines of the front seats of his car.

He wrenched his mouth away from hers. ‘Invite me in, Beth!’

‘What…?’ She moved back slightly to look up at him in a daze.

His eyes glittered down at her in the darkness. ‘Invite me up to your apartment,’ he prompted huskily.

She continued to stare at him wordlessly for several long seconds, the enormity of what he was saying, what he was asking, almost overwhelming her. She knew exactly what would happen if she invited Nick into her apartment. What they both wanted to happen next. Making a complete nonsense of their earlier conversation!

‘I can’t, Nick!’ She wrenched herself out of his arms.

He reached for her. ‘Beth—’

‘I said no!’ Beth fumbled as she opened the passenger door, the instant blast of icy cold wind from outside sobering her, bringing her to her senses as nothing else could have done. She climbed hastily out of the car before turning back to look at him. ‘Please tell Bekka that I’m really sorry I can’t join her for the bowling tomorrow, or her birthday on Christmas Day.’ Beth didn’t wait for Nick to answer before slamming the door closed and turning sharply on her heel to hurry inside her apartment building.

‘Beth?’ came the tersely impatient query down the telephone line as soon as she answered the call.

A terse voice that was all too familiar! ‘Nick—Mr Steele…?’ she corrected firmly even as her fingers tightened about her mobile.

It had been four cold and icy days since the two of them had parted so ignominiously. Four long and lonely days and nights for Beth. Days and nights of self-doubt and self-recrimination for the way she had responded to Nick so completely.

Days and nights when Beth hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him. Of the way he had kissed her. Of the way she had wanted him to go on kissing her—and more!

‘Nick will do,’ he rasped. ‘I’m really sorry to bother you, and I wouldn’t have done so, except—I find myself in something of a dilemma.’

Nick was in a dilemma?

This man had turned Beth’s whole calm and ordered world upside down four days ago when he’d kissed her. Had evoked a heated response in her that still made her tremble just to think about it. Just the sound of his voice over the telephone now was enough to make her hands shake and her heart pound…!

‘What sort of dilemma?’ she asked warily.

Nick stood in his study at home, staring sightlessly out of the window into the back garden. ‘Bekka’s had your cold for the last three days—’

‘I’m really sorry about that, but you were the one who insisted I come out to dinner with the two of you,’ Beth reminded him indignantly.

‘Bekka’s cold isn’t the problem. Well…only indirectly.’ Nick grimaced. ‘My housekeeper was out shopping earlier today and slipped over on the ice. Luckily someone called an ambulance and she was taken to hospital. I received a call from there a few minutes ago. Apparently Mrs Bennett has broken her ankle pretty badly.’

‘Yes…?’

His mouth tightened as he heard the increased wariness in Beth’s tone. Rightly so, probably, after the strained way the two of them had parted on Friday evening.

He should never have kissed her. Certainly never have suggested she invite him up to her apartment when she was obviously so vulnerable, when he knew how dangerous that vulnerability was!

In the same way he knew he shouldn’t have allowed his thoughts to dwell on her so often in the past four days…

His mouth hardened. ‘It seems, because it’s a bad break and Mrs Bennett is in her sixties, that they’ve decided it might be better to keep her in overnight.’

‘Yes…?’

He grimaced his impatience at Beth’s continued guarded response. ‘Obviously I need to go in and see her, but once I had explained about Bekka’s cold the hospital made it obvious they would prefer it if she didn’t take her germs into the ward. Normally I could have asked my parents to come and sit with Bekka while I go to the hospital, but unfortunately they flew to the States a few days ago to spend Christmas with my sister and her family—’

‘Surely there must be someone else you can ask to sit with Bekka?’ There was a slight note of desperation in Beth’s voice now as she realised the reason for Nick’s call. ‘An agency, perhaps?’

‘It’s only a few days before Christmas—not a good time to be hiring a nanny…’ Nick replied.

‘In other words, I’m your very last resort…?’

Nick scowled. ‘If Bekka hadn’t caught your damned cold I could have taken her with me.’

‘You’re being unfair now!’ Beth cut in indignantly. She was sitting down in an armchair by this time—her knees were shaking so badly just from speaking to Nick again that she’d had to sit or risk falling down instead!

‘I apologise if it sounded that way,’ Nick muttered stiffly. ‘It’s just that all Mrs Bennett’s close family live in Scotland, and—Oh, just forget it. I’ll send her things over by taxi and just hope she’ll understand why I couldn’t go in and visit her personally!’

Beth relented slightly. ‘All you want me to do is sit with Bekka for a couple of hours while you go to the hospital…?’

There was a brief, telling silence. ‘What else could I want…?’ Nick finally enquired.

It wasn’t a question of what Nick wanted, it was a question of Beth’s complete inability to resist him…!

Much as Beth hated to admit it, Nick had become a danger to the calm and uneventful life she had been leading since her move to London a year ago. She was very aware that since their first meeting her emotions had been seesawing all over the place. Feverish and out of her control whenever she was in his company. Flat and uninteresting—boring, in fact—when she wasn’t.

So much so that the quiet Christmas Beth had planned for herself now seemed utterly unappealing.

She looked down at the baggy thigh-length blue jumper she was wearing over faded denims and calf-high black boots. Did she have time to put on some make-up and change before she went to Nick’s house—?

No!

If Nick wanted her help that badly, then he could take her as he found her. ‘I’ll get in a taxi now and be there in fifteen minutes,’ she assured him abruptly.

‘Are you sure…?’

No, of course Beth wasn’t sure!

It was completely hazardous to her hard-won peace of mind to be anywhere near the disturbing Nick Steele…

‘As I said, I’ll try and be there in fifteen minutes,’ she said stiffly.

‘I’ll reimburse you for the taxi fare when you get here.’

‘I’m quite capable of paying my own taxi fare, thank you.’

‘You’re doing this as a favour to me—’

‘I’m doing it for Mrs Bennett and Bekka,’ she corrected him firmly.

‘We’ll argue that point later,’ Nick dismissed briskly, before ringing off.

Beth didn’t intend doing anything with him later!

Even if she had been wanting—aching!—to see him again, be with him again, for the past four days…

Chapter Six

‘I REALLY appreciate you doing this for me,’ Nick said as he opened the front door before stepping back to invite Beth inside the house.

‘I’m doing it for Mrs Bennett and Bekka, remember?’ Not quite meeting his gaze, she turned away to slip off her duffle coat before handing it to him, knowing she would be warm enough in the centrally heated house.

She didn’t need to look at Nick to know how devastatingly male he looked in another one of those tailored dark business suits. Or to see the dark sheen of his hair to know that it was silky soft. Or to look into the chiselled perfection of his face to be aware of how her pulse was racing just being near him again…

‘Beth…?’

She stared at the perfectly knotted tie at his throat. ‘Yes?’

Nick didn’t at all like the way Beth was once again avoiding even looking at him. ‘Damn it, despite my telling you not to, you’ve been wallowing in guilt for the past four days!’

Irritation was evident in those dark blue eyes as Beth’s gaze flickered briefly up to his face and then away again. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Nick,’ she snapped scathingly.

Was he? Was Nick mistaken in thinking that he and the kiss the two of them had shared the other evening were the reasons for those dark circles under Beth’s eyes and the paleness of her cheeks?

He frowned darkly. ‘Do you still intend to spend Christmas Day on your own?’

‘I don’t see what that has to do with you…’

Neither did Nick. Except he hated the very idea of Beth—anyone—being alone during the holiday period. But especially Beth…‘What about your parents?’

‘They were killed in the same car crash as Ben,’ she said abruptly.

God…!

Nick had become cynical about love and relationships in general after his marriage to Janet had failed so abysmally. Learning that Janet had cancer, and had been diagnosed as terminal, had at least allowed the two of them time to heal their differences and say goodbye to each other before she died.

Not that Nick believed there had been any rifts between Beth and her husband before he died, or between her and her parents, but sudden death made no allowances for goodbyes, and Christmas was a time that must surely bring that home to her…

He grimaced. ‘We’ll talk again when I get back.’

Beth looked fully into his face for the first time. And then wished she hadn’t as she saw the concern that darkened those grey eyes. Her smile was tight. ‘The subject is at an end as far as I’m concerned.’

‘But—’

‘I thought I had already made it clear that I don’t need or want your charity or your pity!’ Her eyes flashed deeply blue.

His eyes narrowed glacially. ‘Why do you have to be so prickly all the—?’

‘I thought you had to get to the hospital?’ Beth cut in pointedly, her brows raised in challenge.

Nick’s mouth thinned. ‘I do. But—’

‘Will you just go, Nick?’ she said impatiently. ‘The sooner you go then hopefully the sooner you’ll be back. I do have a life of my own, you know,’ she added pointedly. ‘One that doesn’t revolve around Nick Steele’s wants and needs!’

‘And what would you be doing now if you weren’t here?’ he challenged impatiently.

‘None of your business.’

Nick knew she was being deliberately awkward. He simply didn’t have the time right now to argue with her. But when he returned later this evening he intended making sure he found the time…

‘Fine,’ he bit out tersely. ‘Bekka is waiting for you on the sofa in the sitting room, wrapped up warm in front of the fire, with the three cats draped all over her. The dog is in the kitchen, so take care if you have to go in there to get Bekka some more medicine. There are plenty of drinks and food in the fridge—’

‘I believe I’m intelligent enough to work all those things out for myself.’

But not, it seemed, intelligent enough to know when not to prod and poke at a sleeping tiger…!

Nick had found himself thinking of this woman far too much the past four days. Remembering how good Beth had felt when he’d held her in his arms. How responsive her lips had been against his. How aroused he had been by her. How badly he had wanted her!

How badly he still wanted her, Nick acknowledged.

How did this ultra-sensitive and consequently prickly woman still manage to look sexy, with her face bare of make-up, her auburn hair brushed back from her face and secured in a ponytail, and wearing a long and baggy jumper that appeared to be several sizes too big for her?

Nick had absolutely no idea, but somehow Beth Morgan managed to do it!

He nodded abruptly. ‘I should only be a couple of hours.’

‘I’m sure that Bekka and I will manage just fine without you,’ Beth assured him.

Nick’s eyes narrowed in warning. ‘Just carry on the way you’re going, Beth…’

She arched auburn brows. ‘And what?’

His smile was feral. ‘I’ll let you know when I get back.’

She gave him a wry smile. ‘And am I supposed to live in fear until then?’

Nick gave a slow, warning shake of his head. ‘You’re playing with fire, Beth.’

Beth felt a quiver of apprehension run down the length of her spine as she looked up into those narrowed grey eyes. Or could it be expectation…? She was deliberately baiting this man, she knew. Couldn’t seem to help herself. Couldn’t stop herself from forcing a response from him. Any response.

The promise of retribution she could read in those mocking grey eyes warned her that she wasn’t going to like that response if she carried on deliberately baiting him.

Or that she might like it too much…!

She drew in a shaky breath. ‘Just go to the hospital, Nick,’ she advised heavily.

Nick continued to look down at her frowningly for several long seconds before giving an abrupt nod of his head. ‘Plan on having dinner with Bekka and me later.’

She bristled. ‘Isn’t it usual to ask rather than assume?’

He gave a humourless smile. ‘Where you’re concerned? No.’ He gave a shake of his head. ‘On the assumption you’re going to refuse to accept any payment for sitting with Bekka—’

‘You assume correctly!’ she snapped.

Nick nodded. ‘The least I can do is offer you dinner.’

‘Offer, yes. Assume, no. Besides,’ Beth added, ‘you already gave me dinner four nights ago. Unless…’ She looked up at him suspiciously. ‘When you said “plan on” having dinner with you and Bekka were you actually implying that I should cook it first?’

He chuckled throatily. ‘Not much gets past you, does it, Beth?’

‘You do want me to cook dinner!’ she gasped incredulously.

‘You know the old saying—“feed a cold, starve a fever”.’ Nick shrugged. ‘And obviously Mrs Bennett isn’t here to do it. Of course you could just leave Bekka to my less than proficient skills in the kitchen…’

‘You—I—’ Beth’s eyes were now flashing a deep blue in disgust. ‘Just go, Nick,’ she advised again in carefully modulated tones.

‘I’ll be glad to, now I know the problem of dinner is settled,’ he agreed brightly.

‘Nothing is “settled”, Nick,’ she warned him firmly.

‘Sure it is.’ He gave her a triumphant grin before leaving.

Beth stood in the hallway fuming for several long minutes after Nick had gone.

He was the most arrogant, infuriating—

She had told herself all of this before! Several times, in fact. And yet here she was, back at Nick’s house, taking care of Bekka, and with the added expectation on Nick’s part that she would cook dinner for them all this evening…!

‘I see that you’re feeling better, Bekka,’ Nick said thankfully when he returned early that evening and entered the kitchen in search of his young daughter and Beth, and found the two of them in there preparing dinner together, along with the huge cross-breed of a dog that Bekka had adopted six months ago. There was definitely some Irish Wolfhound in there, if Paddy’s colouring and size was anything to go by—or perhaps it was just wolf!

‘Daddy!’ A happily grinning Bekka rushed over to give him a hug. ‘How’s Mrs Bennett?’

‘Well enough to come home tomorrow,’ Nick assured her as he returned the hug, at the same time giving the traitorous Paddy a censorious glare as the mutt completely ignored him to lean slavishly against Beth’s leg, looking up at her adoringly. Nick usually had a fight as to whether or not the dog would even let him into his own house, and in the few short hours he had been gone Beth had managed to tame the beast.

The whole household seemed to be falling under this woman’s spell!

‘Dinner smells good,’ Nick muttered, as Bekka returned to stirring something in a saucepan on top of the cooker.

‘Let’s hope it tastes the same way,’ Beth drawled, telling Nick that she still hadn’t completely forgiven him for emotionally blackmailing her into making dinner—primarily for Bekka’s sake, but for the two of them, too.

In truth, Nick was no longer sure that it was a good idea, either, as he inwardly acknowledged that the highly domestic scene he had walked in on a few minutes ago was a little too cosy for his comfort. Although Beth didn’t look any more relaxed than he did, Nick noted, as she deliberately turned her back on him to carry on peeling the potatoes in the sink.

‘What is it?’ he prompted curiously as he detected the delectable smell of garlic rising from the pan Bekka was stirring so diligently.

‘It’s something called Pork Tumbet.’ Bekka turned to grin at him.

‘It’s just pork chops covered in seasonal vegetables and cooked in a tomato and garlic sauce. Then the whole thing is covered in sliced potatoes and baked in the oven,’ Beth dismissed lightly, still without turning.

‘Sounds good. It smells good, too,’ Nick murmured appreciatively.

As expected, Beth had spent an enjoyable couple of hours keeping Bekka entertained. The two of them had played draughts and then a few easy card games, and she and the three cats and Paddy the dog had become firm friends. But for all of that time Beth had been aware that Nick would be returning home soon. And not quite sure how she should behave towards him when he did.

It was the thought of having to sit down and eat dinner with Nick that was making Beth feel so nervous. Of course once she had put the food into the oven there was absolutely no reason why she actually had to stay and eat it with them.

That was obviously her way out of this; she would finish preparing the tumbet and put it in the oven, advise Nick on how long to leave it there, and then she would organise another taxi to take her home.

Beth turned, with the intention of telling Nick exactly that, only to draw sharply back against the kitchen unit as she realised just how close he was to her.

So close Beth could smell the elusively expensive aftershave he favoured.

So close she could see the darker ring of grey that encircled the iris of his eyes as she looked up at him.

So close that, once she had quickly glanced away and down from that compelling gaze, she could see the pulse throbbing in his throat.

Could feel her own pulse beating to that same erratic rhythm…

Chapter Seven

BETH forced a calmly relaxed expression on her face as she looked up at Nick. ‘I’m going to arrange for a taxi to come and take me home in fifteen minutes.’

‘Why?’ Nick frowned his displeasure.

‘I—because there aren’t any buses from this area to my apartment,’ she stated lightly.

‘Take it from me, Beks, it’s a bad sign when the chef won’t stay long enough to eat her own food,’ Nick told his daughter teasingly.

‘Not at all,’ Beth answered. ‘But, as I told you earlier, I do have a life of my own.’

Nick remembered everything this particular woman had ever said to him. And he was also becoming aware of the subtlety of all her moods—and her driving need at this particular moment was obviously to get as far away from him as possible…

He turned to his daughter. ‘Beks, could you just go and check that I turned off the headlights on my car before I came in?’

‘As long as you keep stirring the sauce while I’m gone,’ his daughter warned sternly.

‘I’ll do my best,’ Nick replied, his narrowed gaze returning to Beth’s slightly flushed face once Bekka had gone out into the hallway. ‘Okay, so what did I do now?’ he asked wearily, once the two of them were alone.

‘What makes you think you’ve done anything?’

‘Possibly the fact that, even though you’ve cooked the dinner, you refuse to stay and share it with us?’

‘Is it really necessary for me to eat it as well as cook it?’

Nick shrugged. ‘It seems a pity for you to have to prepare something for yourself when you get home.’

She shrugged slender shoulders beneath that overlarge sweater. ‘The tumbet won’t be ready for another hour or so.’

‘And is spending another hour or so in my company such a problem?’ he probed huskily.

‘Of course not,’ she said sharply. ‘I just—I thought you promised Bekka that you would keep stirring the sauce?’ she reminded with a frown.

‘To hell with the sauce!’ A nerve pulsed in Nick’s tightly clenched jaw.

‘The tumbet will be ruined if the sauce burns,’ Beth pointed out ruefully.

‘To hell with the tumbet too!’ Nick took the saucepan off the hob before taking a deliberate step closer to Beth, so that he now towered over her much slighter form. ‘Tell me the real reason you’re refusing to stay and have dinner with Bekka and me,’ he demanded.

Beth feigned an uninterest she didn’t feel as she gave another dismissive shrug. Feigned, because she was too aware of Nick, of his close proximity, to feel in the least uninterested!

‘You’re very pale, Beth. I think you need to eat…’

‘What I need is to be allowed to leave here so that I can get on with my own life!’ Beth knew by the way Nick’s eyes narrowed on her speculatively that she had spoken more forcefully than she had intended. Than was prudent with a man as perceptive as Nick Steele.

But she couldn’t be here with this man and his young daughter. Found this whole domesticated scenario too disturbing. Almost as disturbing as she found Nick himself…!

Beth pushed away from the kitchen unit to move abruptly away from him. Away from the sensual spell his proximity was once again weaving about her already heightened senses…

‘It will take me another twenty minutes or so to get the tumbet in the oven, and then I’m going home,’ she told him abruptly, before turning away with the intention of removing the roasted vegetables from the oven.

‘Beth, what the—’

‘Take your hand off me!’ she gasped as he grasped her arm.

Nick looked down searchingly into that pale and delicately lovely face; Beth’s eyes were huge and haunted, her cheeks paler than ever, her lips trembling slightly, her chin raised in the constant challenge this woman seemed to feel she had to show to the world. To him in particular…?

He gave a shake of his head. ‘I want you to stay and have dinner with us, Beth.’

‘Unfortunately those wants conflict with my own.’ She held his gaze as she firmly, determinedly, moved out of his grasp.

Nick let her go, not wanting to bruise a single inch of that delicately pale skin. ‘What do you want, Beth?’

She drew in a ragged breath. ‘I want you to leave me alone, Nick. For you not to call me again. To stop involving me in your own and Bekka’s lives.’

‘Isn’t that going to be a little hard to do when you’re one of Bekka’s teachers…?’

‘I meant your personal lives,’ Beth insisted.

‘And by personal lives, you mean…?’

‘I mean insisting I go out to dinner with the two of you,’ she said impatiently. ‘Inviting me to go bowling. To spend Christmas Day with the two of you here—’ She broke off as her voice broke emotionally. ‘To looking after Bekka. To cooking dinner for the two of you…’

‘Beth—’

‘Please don’t touch me, Nick!’ She backed away from him, her cheeks chalky-white now. ‘I—it was hard for me when Ben and my parents—when they all died. But somehow, little by little, I survived. I survived, Nick!’ she repeated shakily.

‘I can see that,’ Nick murmured distractedly, and he thrust his hands into his trouser pockets—before he gave in to the impulse he had to take this woman in his arms and attempt to make all the pain she had suffered go away!

Beth was so young, so delicate, too damned fragile to have suffered and survived the things she had been through—the death of her parents and her husband.

‘I intend continuing to survive,’ she added firmly.

‘By keeping yourself emotionally apart?’ Nick guessed.

Tears glistened on her lashes as she nodded. ‘And we both know how to do that, don’t we?’

Nick had meant to pierce that prickly exterior Beth presented to the world. To have her talk to him, tell him things about herself, anything about herself, as long as she let him in.

And by doing so he had hurt her. Had brought all that pain and suffering back into stark relief.

‘Your car lights are off, Daddy,’ Bekka announced happily as she came back into the kitchen. ‘And there are some carol singers at the door,’ she added excitedly as she slipped her hand into his. ‘Can we go and listen to them and then give them some money?’

Nick dragged his gaze away from Beth to smile down at his daughter. ‘Sure we can.’ He gave her hand a squeeze before glancing across the kitchen. ‘Coming, Beth?’

‘I—no,’ Beth refused. ‘I’m just going to finish up here and then call a taxi, but the two of you go ahead,’ she urged lightly.

He frowned darkly. ‘We haven’t finished talking, Beth.’

‘I think we’ve said all that needs to be said, don’t you?’ she dismissed.

Nick continued to look at her broodingly for several long seconds before he felt Bekka’s renewed tugging on his hand and allowed his daughter to pull him out into the hallway.

Beth sat down on one of the kitchen chairs as soon as she had finished talking to the taxi company and put the tumbet in the oven, very aware of her need to get away from here. Away from the cloyingly domestic atmosphere of just being here with Bekka and Nick. And the maelstrom of emotions that created inside her.

She had loved Ben so much—been devastated when he died. Her only way of coping with his loss, and that of her parents, had been to remove herself from the place where she had spent so many happy years with all of them. To move to London, a place where she could be assured of anonymity. A place where she could live quietly and privately, separate and apart from all emotional involvement.

Being here like this with Nick and Bekka had given Beth a painful glimpse of a life that she had long ago decided could no longer ever be hers. A full and happy life. A life that included a husband and children of her own.

After Ben had died Beth had told herself that if she never loved again, never had any of those things, then she could never be hurt again, either. Would never again have to go through the pain of losing someone she loved.

She realised now how foolish she had been to believe herself capable of shutting out all emotion. How stupid, how utterly, utterly stupid that belief had been, when just being here again with Nick and Bekka told her it was already too late—that without meaning to she had already allowed herself to care again. Not just for Bekka, but for Nick too.

To more than care for him…?

Beth shied away from admitting even to herself to feeling any more than attracted to him. If she didn’t acknowledge it, then perhaps it would just go away!

Just as Beth intended getting away from here, the moment her taxi arrived!

‘I told the taxi driver to wait outside.’

She spun round guiltily to face Nick, his eyes hooded as he stood in the kitchen doorway looking across at her. ‘Where’s Bekka?’ she prompted brightly.

‘Still listening to the carol singers.’

Beth nodded abruptly as she gave Paddy an absentminded pat on the head before picking up her handbag. ‘I’ll say goodbye to her on my way out.’

Nick frowned as he remained unmoving in the doorway. ‘We haven’t finished our conversation yet, Beth.’

She swallowed hard. ‘There’s nothing else to say.’

Nick crossed the room to stand in front of her. ‘Damn it, Beth, talk to me!’

‘My taxi is waiting—’

‘I instructed the driver to wait until you’re ready to leave,’ Nick told her.

Beth gave a pained frown. ‘I’ve done what you asked me to do and taken care of Bekka while you went to the hospital. I’ve even cooked dinner for both of you. I think the least you can do for me is to let me leave without fuss.’

His mouth firmed. ‘Run away, you mean?’

Beth gasped as the barb struck home. ‘That was uncalled-for, Nick!’

Yes, it had been, he acknowledged self-disgustedly. Uncalled-for and unnecessarily cruel. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Beth, I just—I want to help you,’ he encouraged gruffly as he reached out and grasped both her hands in his.

She drew in a ragged breath. ‘You can’t help me, Nick. No one can. Now, would you please just let me leave?’ she pleaded emotionally.

Nick could see that she was going to cry. He had managed to make Beth cry when all he’d wanted was to—

What? What did he want from her?

More to the point, what did he possibly have to give a woman like Beth? A woman who had been so hurt by life, by the loss of the husband and parents that she’d loved, that she had decided never to allow emotion into her life again.

As cynical as Nick’s own feelings were towards love, he knew he was the last person—the very last person—to give anyone advice on the subject!

Even so, it was hard to stand back and watch Beth as she left. To know that he had helped cause those unshed tears that glistened on her long dark lashes as she walked away from him…

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