Harlequin Romance September 2013 Bundle: Bound by a BabyIn the Line of DutyPatchwork Family in the OutbackStranded with the Tycoon

by Kate Hardy

  ‘I have to know. Do you really not remember your twenty-first? Are you sure you’re not trying to make up for that night?’

  Ben shook his head automatically. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he should.

  ‘Or finish what you started?’

  ‘I didn’t even remember until just now. I...I knew I hadn’t been kind to you back then. Maybe that was why I took you to dinner last night. Gave you somewhere to stay. This is something entirely different.’

  Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she stepped forward, closer than before, so close that he could feel her breath through the cotton of his shirt. She looked up, her eyes bright, and Ben felt his breath catch in his chest.

  ‘Then the only thing I can think is that you wanted me here so you could hear me beg you to seduce me.’

  God, yes. Heat flooded through his body at her words, fierce and unchecked. Her lashes fluttered shut over her eyes and Ben knew this was his chance. This was the closest she’d let herself get to asking for what she wanted. This was the moment he should sweep her up in his arms and off to bed, like Owain kidnapping Nest.

  And he couldn’t.

  He couldn’t be what she remembered—alcohol on his breath as he pushed a kiss on her, whether she wanted it or not. He was a different man now, and she needed to know that. People really did change.

  Stepping back caused him physical pain. His muscles were aching to stay with her, to pull her against his chest and hold her close.

  ‘Not like this,’ he said, his voice hoarse.

  And then he walked away.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LUCE WOKE UP on Wednesday morning determined not to spend one more sleepless night on Ben Hampton.

  She was through. From nights spent waiting for him and Mandy to kick everyone else out of the flat and go to bed at university, to the long, long night after she ran away from him in the hotel library, to that night in Chester, to last night, spent wondering and wondering. It was enough.

  It didn’t matter if he’d changed his mind about seducing her. In fact it was a good thing that he hadn’t. Because the very last thing Luce needed at the moment was someone else needing her to take care of their lives. She had a book to write, after all, and Ben Hampton’s life was a mess—even if he was too busy trying to fix hers to notice it.

  Actually, she told herself, staring up at the uneven ceiling of the cottage, it was probably all for the best. She’d made a decision eight years ago not to get involved with this man. A decision she’d renewed and confirmed in Chester, and again yesterday when he brought her to the cottage. She might have nearly broken that resolution because of too much wine and conversation, or because of a brief, misguided hope that people really could change, but that wasn’t enough. She should thank Ben, really, for not taking advantage of her vulnerable position and letting her stick to her beliefs.

  Not that she was going to, of course.

  Shifting under the sheet, Luce turned over with a sigh. The problem was that she wanted him. She might not be the most obviously sexual person in the world—but she was an academic, not a nun. Although they might as well be the same thing at the moment. Too much time working, researching, writing, lecturing... It didn’t leave a lot of time for romance. Or even just a fun encounter with a gorgeous guy.

  But Luce wasn’t supposed to want that, was she? It wasn’t the way she was made. Wasn’t in her history. No, she was supposed to study, to learn, to improve herself. Sex didn’t improve anything in her admittedly limited experience. Hell, even Nest, in her restricted, disapproving time, had managed to have more sex with considerably more guys than Luce had.

  Her head flopped back against the pillow and she finally admitted the truth to herself. She’d wanted Ben Hampton last night. And, more than that, she’d wanted him to make the first move—to take her—so that she could rationalise away her desire this morning. She’d wanted to be able to say it was a weak moment, that it was the wine and the romantic snowbound cottage. She’d wanted to be able to move on and forget it without admitting that sex with him was something she really wanted.

  Craved. Needed.

  Well, she was just going to have to get used to going without. Because there was no way she could ask him for it now. Humiliation really wasn’t her colour, and she wouldn’t risk him turning her down again.

  Damn it.

  With a deep breath, Luce sat up. ‘Time to move on,’ she said softly.

  Her room—the spare room—had a desk, a king-sized bed and an en suite bathroom. If you had to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, Luce figured this was the sort of place you wanted to be stuck. It wasn’t a particularly feminine room, but then, Luce wouldn’t have expected it to be. Ben had decorated it, after all. The huge bed was draped in a wine-red quilt, soft and cosy, with cushions and pillows piled up at the head. Beside the bed stood a chenille-covered armchair, perfect for curling up with a book. And under the window was the desk—sturdy, probably antique, and exactly what she needed. Slipping out of bed, Luce ran a hand across its scarred wooden surface and for the first time could imagine herself finishing her book. Telling Nest’s story to the world, finally, the way she wanted it to be known.

  Might as well make the best of a bad situation. She was stuck there at least until Ben woke up. She’d retrieved her laptop from the car before their trip to the pub, so she could at least get some work done.

  Luce listened for movement outside her door and, hearing nothing, risked slipping out long enough to make a pot of tea and some toast and sneak it back into her room. Then, wrapped up in her pyjamas, socks and an old jumper she’d found in one of the drawers, she settled down at her desk.

  Ben Hampton didn’t matter any more. All that did matter was telling Nest’s story the right way.

  * * *

  There was no sign of Luce when Ben emerged from his room the next morning. Which was probably for the best. His surge of nobility, admittedly spurred on by a determination to prove that he had changed in the last eight years, might not have lasted in the face of Luce in pyjamas. Or a nightdress. Or maybe nothing at all...

  After a night of contemplating the possibilities, and imagining what might have happened if he’d just kissed her properly and carried her off to bed, those images were firmly burned onto his brain. God only knew what it was going to take to get them out again. And knowing she was just metres away, probably still in bed, really wasn’t helping.

  Ben eyed the closed bedroom door, grabbed his keys and headed out. Fresh air and distance was what he needed. And he could check out the state of the roads while he was at it.

  Ben took the drive into the village slowly. The snow showed no sign of melting, but the roads were clearer than he’d expected—obviously some of the local farm vehicles had already been out. Ben parked up outside the Eight Bells and decided he deserved a warming cup of something, and maybe some of Tracy’s homemade cake, before he hit the village store for supplies and a weather forecast.

  Johnny, the landlord, raised his eyebrows from behind the pumps at the sight of him. ‘Didn’t expect to see you out of bed so early.’

  ‘It’s gone ten,’ Ben pointed out, leaning against the bar.

  ‘Exactly.’ Johnny reached behind him to flick the coffee machine on. ‘Tracy said it looked like you and your new friend were planning to hit the sheets for the rest of the week when you left here last night.’

  ‘Well, Tracy was wrong,’ Ben said, trying not to think about how close to right she might have been. ‘Besides, Luce is an old friend—not a new one. We were at university together.’ No need to get into the details.

  ‘Hmm.’ The corners of Johnny’s mouth dipped down for a moment, as if to say, Okay, then. If you say so, as he handed over a cup of coffee.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Just... You do realise she’s the first person�
��male or female—you’ve ever brought to my pub?’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Is she the first person you’ve taken up to your cottage at all?’

  An uncomfortable feeling crept up Ben’s back. ‘Yeah. We were driving to Cardiff when the snow got heavy, so we stopped off here.’

  ‘That explains it, then, I guess. We just figured she must be someone important.’ He didn’t sound pleased at the explanation. ‘So. Old friend?’

  ‘Yeah, you know. Nice to catch up and stuff.’ Ben picked up his coffee, and motioned to one of the tables by the window. ‘Anyway, I’d better drink up and get back to her. Lousy host, really.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Johnny said.

  But the frown line between his eyebrows told Ben he was still a little disappointed by the set-up.

  Why? he wondered as he made his way over to the table. Was it so inconceivable that he’d bring a friend to visit? Just because he hadn’t done it in the last few years? Why hadn’t he, actually? He supposed it hadn’t occurred to him. The women he spent time with all preferred a night at one of the hotels, the swankier the better, and since Hampton & Sons didn’t have anything under five stars except their newest acquisitions—in this case, the Royal Court, which had a measly four—it was easier just to check into the nearest one. And if he was meeting friends it was the local pub or the curry house. No need for them to trek all the way to the middle of nowhere in Wales. Besides, the cottage was his place. It was where he went when he needed to escape from the real world. There’d never been much point in bringing the real world with him.

  Luce wasn’t the real world. This brief sojourn in the snow had nothing to do with reality. Once he’d taken her back to Cardiff the brief time bubble would be over and he’d forget all about her for another eight years, while he got on with his life and she refused to. Easy.

  His phone rang as soon as he sat down. ‘Hampton.’

  ‘Other Hampton.’

  Seb’s dry voice sounded out of place as Ben sat staring across at the Welsh mountains. Seb was urban and urbane. He was the city, and the company, and the polished wood of his office.

  He’d definitely never invited Seb up to the cottage. Maybe he should.

  ‘What can I do for you today, oh, fearless leader?’

  ‘Stop calling me that, for a start.’

  On the other end of the line Ben heard his brother shuffling papers before he continued.

  ‘I just got through reading your report from Chester.’

  ‘And?’

  A pause. Never good.

  Then Seb said, ‘When are you back in London?’

  ‘Tomorrow night was the plan. Might make it Friday—snow dependent.’

  ‘Can you stop by and see me on Friday? I know it’s Christmas Eve, and you’re supposed to be off the rest of the week...’

  ‘I can,’ Ben said. ‘But if there’s a problem with my report I’d rather you just tell me now.’

  Another pause.

  ‘It’s not a problem, exactly.’

  Seb didn’t sound annoyed, or let down, which Ben was pretty sure their father would have done. That was something.

  ‘Just an idea I want to talk through with you.’

  Now, that was new. For the last six months Seb had been making the decisions and Ben had been making them happen. That was how they operated, and it worked well. But if Seb was willing to let him in, loosen his grip on the reins... Maybe he won’t turn into Dad after all.

  ‘Okay. So, how’s London coping without me?’

  ‘Never mind London,’ Seb said. ‘Tell me about this brunette from Chester. Did you actually take her to your cottage? The forbidden inner sanctum?’

  It felt wrong to hear Luce described that way, and Ben regretted ever mentioning her to Seb. He clamped down on the surge of anger filling his chest, reminding himself that Seb was only talking about her the way Ben himself had, last time they’d spoken.

  ‘It’s not... She’s an old friend,’ Ben said, repeating the line he’d used with Johnny and wondering why it felt like such a lie. Because they’d never really been friends, he supposed. ‘I was driving her back to Cardiff and we detoured to the cottage because of the snow.’

  ‘Wow. You did actually take her to your fabled cottage? I was kidding about that part. She must be pretty important.’

  ‘More that I didn’t want to die in a snowy crash,’ Ben assured him. ‘Her train was cancelled, I was headed this way anyway, so I drove her. That’s all.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  Ben didn’t think Seb needed to sound quite so disbelieving. ‘Yeah, well, I should get back to my host duties,’ he said, draining his coffee. ‘I’ll see you on Friday.’

  It didn’t matter what Seb thought about Luce, he reminded himself as he stood and put on his coat. Because after today she’d be out of his life again.

  Which was a good thing. Right?

  Except if he wasn’t going to see her again... The thought of not having her, just once, burned at his heart. He needed to touch her, to feel her—hell, even just to hold her. The memory of her swaying into his arms the night before wasn’t fading. How could he not experience more than that?

  But after turning her down the night before...? Ben wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t going to ask again. He’d head back to the cottage, they’d pack up the car and drive to Cardiff, and that would be it. He’d blown the only chance he’d get with Luce Myles.

  But as he left the Eight Bells a leaflet in the rack for tourists caught his eye, and Ben realised that maybe there was one more thing he could give Luce before they parted ways. Something for her to remember these strange, snowy few days by.

  Pocketing the leaflet, he headed over to the village shop, his mood suddenly a whole lot lighter.

  * * *

  It hadn’t been Luce’s most productive morning ever.

  She’d started well—up with the lark and at the desk with her computer cursor blinking at her. Outside, the snow looked as if it might be starting to clear, which gave her hope that they might make it to Cardiff today. She’d heard the front door slam after she’d been working a couple of hours, and reasoned that Ben had probably gone to check on the conditions. She’d have to wait until he got back to face him. Heat had flooded to her cheeks at the very thought. Really no hurry on that one. Then they’d be on their way and it would all be over. She’d be home again.

  In the meantime, the book wouldn’t write itself.

  The first couple of pages of the section dealing with Nest’s life at Cilgerran Castle, before her abduction, had come in an inspired burst, leaving her feeling buoyant and excited. And then...nothing.

  After another half an hour of staring at the screen and adjusting punctuation, Luce had given up and indulged in a long soak in the bath instead. Hot water and bubbles were almost guaranteed to help inspiration strike, surely?

  Except when she settled back down at the desk, fully dressed in a long knitted skirt and wine-red sweater, she still had nothing.

  ‘Going well?’

  Luce spun round to see Ben leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest and his eyebrow raised. He betrayed no sign of his rejection the night before—which was a small point in his favour, Luce supposed.

  ‘I think I’m getting some really useful stuff,’ she lied, and hoped he hadn’t heard the bath water draining out.

  Ben held up a bakery bag. ‘Well, brunch will help. I brought ham and cheese croissants.’

  Luce’s stomach rumbled at the very mention.

  As they sat down together at the small kitchen table Luce asked, ‘What are the roads like? Can we make Cardiff today?’

  Ben nodded, already chewing. ‘More snow due tonight, but we should be able to beat it.’

  She should be relieved. Thrilled that she was
heading home. So what was with the strange, sad part of her that was already missing the cottage before they’d even left?

  And not just the cottage. The company.

  Luce stared down at her plate. Definitely time to go.

  ‘I should go and get packed up, then,’ she said, even though the only things she’d really unpacked were her laptop and notes.

  ‘Actually...’

  Ben paused and she looked up at him. Was he going to ask her to stay? No. That was ridiculous.

  ‘There’s somewhere I’d like to take you. Before you go. It’s not exactly on our way, but I think it’ll be worth it.’

  Luce frowned. ‘How out of our way? Where is it?’

  ‘It’s a surprise.’ Ben’s smile was slow and teasing. ‘But I promise you you’ll like it.’

  The problem with that, Luce reflected, was that what she liked and wanted wasn’t always good for her. But if this was her last ever day with Ben, how could she turn down the chance to spend a few more hours with him?

  ‘Finish your croissant first,’ he said, and she obeyed.

  Twenty minutes later they were all packed up. Pulling on her thick coat and boots, Luce followed Ben out to the car, her eyes drawn to the way his upper body filled out his coat. He really had grown into his size over the last eight years. How was she supposed to forget how good it had felt to be held against that chest the night before when he was just there, looking gorgeous?

  Of course after today he wouldn’t be.

  Sighing, she got into the car, fastening her seatbelt without looking at him again. Instead, she looked back at the cottage as they drove away, and wondered if there was any chance she’d ever see it again.

  ‘You okay?’ Ben asked as they reached the main road out of the village.

  ‘Fine.’ She flashed him a quick smile, then glanced away. So much pretty countryside to look at, all white and sparkling. Why should she look at him anyway? ‘Are you really not going to tell me where we’re going?’

  ‘I told you. It’s a surprise.’

  Luce didn’t know the area well enough to be able to guess where they were headed, and by the time they hit the bigger roads she was too absorbed in her own thoughts and the snow-capped hills and frosted trees around her to pay attention to road signs. What would this countryside have looked like in Nest’s time? Would she have ridden through these hills? How had it felt when she’d had to leave this landscape behind and move to England?