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 too-handsome 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-to-day basis. She had been an only child from a close-knit 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.
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