by Kate Hardy
It bothered him how much he wanted to find out.
And now the weather had given him the perfect chance to do just that. It might not have been a plan in the way Luce had accused him, but it certainly was an opportunity to take advantage of.
One night in a secluded cottage was even more perfect than one night in a luxury hotel. As long as it was just one night and the snow didn’t strand them there any longer. Two nights in a row and women started to get ideas, Ben had found. Which was why he’d committed to his one-night rule.
And Luce was up to something; that much was clear. Given another glass of wine, he was pretty sure he could figure out what, and how it might affect his seduction plans.
The barmaid handed over their drinks and Ben took them with a wide, friendly smile before heading back to Luce. He had hopes for what was going on here, and if he was right the evening could be set for a much better ending than he’d dared to assume the night before.
‘So, what are you fancying?’ Ben put the drinks down on the table and tried not to smirk when Luce looked up, eyes wide and face flustered.
‘Um...’ Her gaze flicked back down to the menu. ‘The sticky toffee pudding?’
‘Good choice.’ Dropping into his chair, Ben reached his arms out across the back and felt his muscles stretch. ‘Tracy says she’ll be over to take our order in a moment.’
‘Great.’ Placing the menu back on the table, Luce folded her hands over it.
Ben braced himself for whatever line of questioning was coming next.
‘So, what do you do when you’re not working?’
To his horror, Ben actually had to think about an answer. When had he become so obsessed with work? That was Seb and Dad. Not him.
‘Oh, you know. The usual. Fine dining. Trips abroad.’ That sounded obnoxious. She already thought he was obnoxious. He really shouldn’t make it any worse. ‘I have a château in France—well, my grandmother did. She left it to me. I’m renovating it.’ Or he should be. He would be. As soon as he found the time.
Luce raised her eyebrows and Ben cast his gaze over to the bar to see where the hell Tracy the barmaid had got to.
‘You’re interested in property development? First the cottage, now the château?’
‘Yes,’ Ben lied. It had nothing to do with making money. He’d done up the cottage so he had somewhere to escape to. And he wanted to do the château because...well, he couldn’t just leave it there to crumble, now, could he?
‘So what’s next?’ Luce asked, then glanced up and said, ‘Oh, the sticky toffee pudding for me, please.’
It took Ben a moment to catch up, to realise that Tracy was standing patiently behind him with her notebook. ‘Same for me, please.’ He gave her a smile and watched her walk back to the bar. Maybe Luce would get cross enough at him paying attention to another woman that she’d stop asking questions he didn’t want to answer.
No such luck.
‘So?’ she repeated. ‘What comes after the château?’
‘No idea,’ Ben said with a shrug. ‘You know me—I’m a take-one-day-at-a-time kind of guy.’
Except he wasn’t any more. Not really. He couldn’t be—not when Seb was relying on him so much these days. He knew exactly what would be next. More visits to more hotels. More reports on what was working and what wasn’t. Long, long meetings with Seb and his team about where the company was going. More spot inspections on longstanding members of the Hampton & Sons chain. More firing old managers and putting in their own people. More budget meetings where the accountants told them they should get the hotels to improve drastically without giving them any money to do it.
Business was business, after all.
‘Still?’ Luce asked. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. People don’t really change at heart, do they?’
Ben looked at her, sipping her wine across the table, her gaze too knowing, and for once he wanted to tell someone the truth. That sometimes he was sick of all the rules he’d set for himself. That sometimes he did want to stop. To stay in one place for a while.
Downing the rest of his pint, he said, ‘I need another drink,’ and headed to the bar before the urge became too strong.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BEN RETURNED WITH another pint for himself and another glass of wine for Luce. She hadn’t drunk more than half of the glass she already had, but she accepted it gracefully anyway. She had a feeling that he wasn’t so much trying to get her drunk to take advantage of her, more to distract her.
Clearly he’d never experienced the Myles curiosity in full flow before.
‘So, you left university, joined the family business, and you’re still there?’ She tipped her head sideways to look at him. ‘So either you really have changed a little bit, or there’s something about your job you truly love. Because the Ben Hampton I knew couldn’t stick at anything for more than six months.’ Which had, incidentally, been the exact length of his relationship with Mandy before the kiss in the library. Not that she’d counted.
Ben’s hand was already on his pint. ‘It’s a job. It pays me very, very well and I don’t have to sit in an office all day.’
Now, that sounded like the Ben she’d known. But it still felt wrong, somehow. And Luce had drunk enough wine to tell him so. ‘That doesn’t sound like it makes you happy.’
‘Are jobs supposed to make you happy?’ Ben asked, eyebrow raised.
‘Mine does,’ Luce said, in an immediate unconsidered response.
‘Really?’
‘Of course.’ At least as long as she didn’t think too much about the particulars. A lecturing position at the university and the opportunity to do her own research into areas of history that fascinated her. That was all she’d ever wanted.
It was just that day-to-day, dealing with the academic system, the obscure rules and regulations of academia, funding, and other colleagues...well, it could be a little...frustrating.
‘So, which part do you love the most?’ Ben asked. ‘Attending dull lectures your colleagues can’t be bothered to go to? Grading unoriginal essays? Applying for funding all the time just to actually do your job?’
Which was just a bit too close to her own thoughts for Luce’s comfort. ‘I’m not saying there aren’t downsides, or days that aren’t particularly joyous. But at the heart of it I love discovering the past. I love finding out about the lives of women long dead and how they influenced the world around them. That’s what matters to me.’
Ben’s gaze was curious now. How had this got turned around? Wasn’t she supposed to be questioning him?
‘In that case,’ he asked, ‘why aren’t you spending all your time on your book? Looking at a linked lecture tour or even a TV programme? Why are you wasting time writing reports for your lazy colleague?’
‘This is just how it works,’ Luce said, reaching for her glass as an excuse not to look at him. ‘It can’t be all fun, all the time. There has to be responsibility, too.’
‘And that’s why I’m still working for the family business,’ Ben said. ‘Told you I could be responsible sometimes. Ah, look—pudding.’
Tracy put their bowls on the table with a curious glance between them. How many women had he brought here? Luce wondered. Was she the latest in a long line? Did she not fit the usual stereotype? Was that why everyone kept looking at her tonight?
She couldn’t think about that now. What did it matter, anyway? Tomorrow she’d be back in Cardiff. She’d probably never think of Ben Hampton again.
Liar.
‘Okay, then,’ she said, reaching for her spoon. ‘What would you be doing if you weren’t working for the illustrious Hampton & Sons?’
Ben’s spoon paused halfway to his mouth. ‘Honestly? I have no idea.’ He looked as if the concept had never even occurred to him. As if he’d never thought about what
he’d actually like to do. He’d just fallen into his job and kept going.
Which was so entirely out of keeping with what Luce had thought she knew about his character that she forgot about pudding entirely.
‘Well, what do you love doing?’ she asked. ‘Renovating properties?’
‘I suppose.’ He put his spoon back in his bowl and looked at her. ‘Look, you seem to have the wrong impression here. I am very good at my job, and it serves the purpose I want it to serve—namely paying me more than enough to enjoy my life. Doing my job well keeps my brother and the investors happy. And I get to live my life my way. I never wanted my job to be my life, so this arrangement suits me pretty much perfectly.’
Explanation over, he dug back into his sticky toffee pudding and ignored Luce completely.
Which was fine by her. No need for him to see the utter confusion she was sure was painted across her face.
She just couldn’t get a handle on this man. Every time she thought she understood something—that he’d changed, that he hadn’t—he pulled the rug out again. Just when she was sure that he was a man stuck in a job he hated, searching for something to fulfil him, he turned round and told her that was the last thing he wanted.
She just didn’t understand.
‘You’re looking baffled,’ Ben said.
Luce glanced up to see him smiling in amusement. ‘Just...trying to understand.’
His mouth took a sympathetic downturn, but his eyes were still laughing. ‘I know. It’s always hard for over-achievers to understand that work isn’t everything.’
‘That’s not... There are plenty of things in my life besides work.’
‘Oh, of course. Like running around after your family and friends, making their lives run smoothly.’
‘Aren’t you doing the same for your brother?’
Ben shook his head. ‘Not at all. My job is my job, and I am compensated very handsomely for it, thank you.’
‘There isn’t a price you can put on love.’
‘No,’ Ben said, his voice suddenly, shockingly hard. ‘There isn’t. But what you do for them? That isn’t love. That’s pandering.’
Luce’s emotions swung back again. No, he hadn’t changed. Not at all. He still thought that he and his thoughts, his wants, his opinions, were the only things in the world that mattered. Couldn’t begin to imagine that he might be wrong. That it might be different for other people.
‘No—listen to me.’
Ben reached out and grabbed her hand with his own as he spoke, and Luce looked up into unexpectedly serious eyes.
‘What do you want more than anything in the world?’
His skin against hers. His attention firmly placed on her. Those were the only reasons she felt a jolt of lust through her body at his question. The only reason her mind answered, You.
Luce pulled her hand away. Note to self: I do not want to sleep with this man. It would be disastrous.
‘I want my family to be happy. Settled.’ Because, she admitted, to herself if not out loud, if they were—if they didn’t need her so damn much—maybe she could go out and find what made her happy.
‘Because that would set you free?’ Ben said.
Luce’s gaze shot to his in surprise.
‘Because if they were happy you wouldn’t have to worry about them. But, Luce, they’re never going to be happy and settled without you as long as you’re still there bailing them out at every turn. You’ll give and give until there’s nothing of you left. And then you’ll crack. My mother—’ He stopped, looked away. ‘I’ve seen it before. You can’t give up your own life for your family.’
Luce swallowed. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘I think I do.’ The words were bitter.
But he didn’t. And Luce couldn’t tell him. How could she explain a grandfather who’d worked hard all his life for the little he had to a man who’d been born with everything? How could she explain the importance of doing the best job she could, giving it everything she had so she could be proud of herself at the end of the day? His job meant nothing to Ben, was just a means to an end. It was all about the money. So how could she explain the passion she felt when she uncovered a hidden bit of women’s history? When she brought untold stories to light?
‘You don’t. My grandfather’s last words to me... He made me promise to take care of my family. I’m the only one, you see. My mother’s a wonderful woman, but she’s lost in her own world most of the time. And my brother and sister inherited that. They don’t see the real world. None of them do. That’s why they need me.’
‘They’re not your responsibility.’
Ben’s voice was gentle, but the words still stung.
‘And maybe it’s time for a change. For them to learn to look after themselves.’
Luce shook her head. ‘I told you. They are what they are. They’re not going to change now.’
‘Not if you don’t give them the chance.’
That wasn’t fair. ‘People don’t change. Not really.’
‘Not even you?’ Ben asked, eyebrow raised.
Luce laughed. ‘Especially not me. I’m exactly the same Lucinda Myles you remember from university, right?’
Ben’s gaze trailed slowly across her face, down her body, and Luce felt her blood warm.
‘Not exactly the same.’
‘That’s not the point. My family are my responsibility, whatever you think.’ Because they were all she had, too. And wasn’t that a sad thing, at twenty-eight, to have nothing else but a family that needed you? Luce drained the last of her wine. ‘I think it’s time to go home,’ she said, and Ben nodded.
They were halfway to the cottage before she realised she’d called it ‘home’ again.
* * *
They walked back to the cottage in silence. The snow had stopped, at last, but the paths were still slippery underfoot. The air stung Ben’s lungs as they climbed the path, making it too painful to talk even if he’d had any idea of what to say.
Why was she so entrenched in solving things for her family? Because she’d promised her grandfather? That didn’t seem enough. There had to be something else, but he was damned if he could figure out what. When would she learn? You couldn’t fix everything for anyone. So you did what you could and you moved on. You couldn’t let other people pull you down.
Had she been like this at university? He couldn’t remember. She must have gone home a lot, though, since he and Mandy had often taken advantage of the flat being empty at weekends. A sliver of self-loathing jarred into him. Of course that was what he remembered. Why hadn’t he paid more attention to Luce then?
Or perhaps the better question was, why was he paying so much attention to her now?
Finally they reached the cottage and Ben dug in his pockets for the keys. Luce waited silently at his side for the door to open. Inside, the under-floor heating was doing its job admirably, which was just as well as the fire had all but burnt out. They both stripped off their outer layers, and Ben took the coats and hung them by the back door. When he turned round Luce still stood where he’d left her, looking at him, her eyes huge and sad.
‘Do you really believe that your family aren’t your responsibility?’
She looked distraught at the idea that anyone could believe such a thing. She should have spent some time with my old man.
He wanted to say the right thing. Words that would make her smile again, as she had over dinner. But he wasn’t going to lie to her.
‘I think that your family need to learn to manage without you for a while. You can’t mortgage your own life, your own happiness, for theirs.’
Luce just shook her head. ‘We really haven’t changed at all, have we?’
Despite her assertions that people didn’t change, she sounded so forl
orn at the idea that Ben moved closer, his body determined to comfort her even if his mind knew it was a bad idea. His hands settled at her waist as she spoke again.
‘We’re exactly the same people we were at university.’
‘No.’ Even to his own ears his voice sounded harsh. ‘We’re not.’
Luce looked up at him. She was so close that he could see the uncertainty in her eyes.
‘Aren’t we? I may not wear jeans and baggy jumpers every day, but I’d still rather be working than in the pub. Tonight notwithstanding,’ she added, a small smile on her lips.
‘You came to the pub, though. That’s new.’
‘Maybe. And what about you? Back then...’
‘I spent every night in the pub and didn’t care about work,’ Ben finished for her. ‘I promise you that tonight is not representative of my adult life.’
‘Back then,’ Luce repeated, ‘you cared about yourself first. Your own happiness was most important, and you didn’t want the responsibility of anyone else’s on your shoulders.’
A memory struck him—something long forgotten and hidden. A book-lined room and a dark-haired girl in the moonlight, a plain dress draped over her body, fear and confusion in her eyes as he moved closer. Had that really been him? No wonder Mandy had ditched him. He hadn’t cared about Luce’s happiness then, had he? Or the responsibility he had to his girlfriend. Hell. Did Luce remember? She must. That was why she’d asked. No wonder she needed to know if he’d changed.
‘I care enough about you to try and help you finish your book. Reclaim your life.’ He was grasping at straws, he knew. Trying to find something to show her he had changed.
Luce tipped her head to the side. ‘Do you? Or are you just trying to get me into bed?’
‘I can’t do both?’ Ben joked, but Luce’s face was serious. He sighed. ‘Trust me, I wouldn’t do all of this just for sex.’ He pulled away, but her hand brushed his arm, a silent request to stay close, and despite the desperate urge to leave this conversation behind and retreat to his room with a bottle of whisky, Ben found he couldn’t move.
