Baby Wishes and Bachelor Kisses

by Valerie Parv

  He set a brisk pace back to the car where Bethany was glad to collapse into the front seat and catch her breath while Nicholas secured Maree in her safety seat in the back. The country air had also taken a toll on the baby, who was sound asleep again.

  As Nicholas had promised, Trentham was only a short drive away, and they were soon driving down High Street with its collection of quaint buildings shaded by wooden verandahs, cafés and stores offering country-style foodstuffs and a variety of handicrafts and original textile products by local artists.

  “No wonder Kylie’s grandmother opened her shop here,” Bethany observed as they passed a center offering cast-iron lacework and ornaments from the Victorian era. Another turnoff brought them to a store whose hand-painted sign identified it as Small Pleasures.

  “It’s so tiny,” Bethany exclaimed, admiring the store, which could be no more than a dozen feet wide with two windows, like eyes, crammed with miniature merchandise.

  “Probably why she chose the name,” Nicholas agreed. “You go inside. I’ll stay here with Maree. She’s sleeping so soundly it’s a shame to wake her up.”

  “Don’t you want to meet Kathryn Ross?”

  “We’ve met at local social activities. She’ll understand that teeny tiny merchandise is not really my thing.”

  Did it have something to do with his aversion to the Frakes Baby House? she couldn’t help wondering. “I’ll try not to take too long,” she promised.

  He slid back in the driver’s seat and tilted his Akubra hat over his eyes. “Take as long as you like. Maree and I will be fine.”

  All the same she felt a twinge of unease as she walked into the little shop. A bell tinkled to announce her arrival, and a woman emerged from the back, wiping her hands on a checkered apron as she came. Her smile broadened when she caught sight of her customer. “Don’t tell me, you’re Bethany Dale who’s working for Nicholas Frakes.”

  “Yes, but how did you—”

  “My Kylie gave me a pretty accurate description of you, including how lovely you are,” Mrs. Ross explained. “But even if she hadn’t I’d have recognized you from the picture in your journal.”

  It was only a postage-stamp-sized likeness, but Bethany felt flattered by Mrs. Ross’s comments and Kylie’s favorable report. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve wanted to do an article on your work since I first heard about it from other collectors.”

  Mrs. Ross nodded, looking pleased. “I got a lot of orders for my dollhouse accessories after those advertisements you ran, so an article would give my business a big boost.”

  “Then I’ll set it up while I’m here,” Bethany promised.

  Mrs. Ross frowned. “You aren’t planning to stay at Yarrawong?”

  Bethany shook her head. “I’m only caring for Maree until Nicholas finds someone permanent.”

  “What a shame. From what my Kylie said I thought you and Nicholas...well, you know.”

  Bethany felt the heat travel from her neck into her face. Gossip usually spread like wildfire in the country, but she had never dreamed people were already pairing her off with Nicholas. “It isn’t like that at all,” she said firmly. “I need the job to help me keep the journal afloat and Nicholas offered me the work so—here I am.” The explanation sounded forced even to her own ears, but it was the truth, whether other people chose to believe it or not. That it might not be the whole explanation, Bethany didn’t care to consider.

  Mrs. Ross nodded. “If you say so, dear. But Nicholas is a fine man and you could do a lot worse. If my granddaughter wasn’t engaged...”

  No doubt half the parents and grandparents in the Central Highlands had entertained the same thought. Why hadn’t Nicholas dated any of the local girls, Bethany wondered briefly, then dismissed the thought. Until a few months ago he had lived in Melbourne, and his love life had been occupied with the lovely Lana Sinden. Since returning to Yarrawong he’d had his hands full with his work and looking after Maree. But he wouldn’t allow himself to be lonely for long, and when he did decide to get back into circulation, Bethany had a feeling every single woman in the district would be beating a path to his door.

  She banished the thought by prowling around the tiny shop and inspecting the hundreds of miniatures on display, eventually selecting several pieces for her own dollhouse at home. She was particularly taken with Mrs. Ross’s handmade rugs, quilts and curtain sets which were finer than anything she’d seen at collectors’ fairs.

  “You must come to my workroom out the back and see the photos my customers have sent me,” the elderly woman urged.

  Bethany glanced through the front window to where Nicholas waited in the car. He was still slumped in the front seat with his hat over his eyes. Surely he wouldn’t mind her taking another few minutes? “I’d love to,” she agreed.

  The workroom was even smaller and more crowded than the shop, but she waved away Mrs. Ross’s apology for the chaos. “It’s worth a little clutter to produce the miniature marvels you do,” she said. “It’s hard to believe you make everything yourself in this tiny workshop.”

  “Every one,” Mrs. Ross confirmed proudly. “Ever since Mr. Ross passed away I’ve devoted every waking hour to my little world. It’s worth it when I get letters from all over Australia and photos like these, showing where my work ends up.”

  She gestured toward a wall of photographs of every kind of dollhouse imaginable, some with the owners posed proudly in front, others open to display the contents. Suddenly she put a finger to her mouth. “I have some photos here you should find particularly interesting.” She delved beneath layers of photos to produce three of patently older vintage, faded and curling at the corners. “Here, what do you think of these?”

  Bethany studied the photos. They showed a dollhouse from the last century, complete with intricately detailed period furniture. “It’s magnificent,” she agreed.

  Mrs. Ross swelled with pride, making Bethany think the heirloom must belong to her family, until she said, “It’s the Frakes Baby House which used to be in Nicholas’s family. I saw it when I was a child, but we moved away and I haven’t heard anything of it for years. Maybe you can get Nicholas to tell you more about it.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Although after what happened, I can understand him being sensitive about it.”

  She folded her arms and leaned closer as if eager to share the details with Bethany. Fighting her rising curiosity, Bethany shook her head. “If he wants me to know, I’m sure he’ll tell me in his own time.”

  Mrs. Ross looked unperturbed. “Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t, dear. It wasn’t exactly a happy time for young Nicholas. He...”

  At the sound of a cough, she broke off. Nicholas himself was framed in the doorway of the workroom. He was carrying Maree, and he looked as angry as Bethany had ever seen him.

  Mrs. Ross didn’t seem to notice. “Nicholas, how nice. We were just talking about you.”

  It was the second time he had interrupted Bethany apparently discussing him behind his back, and his furious expression said he was unlikely to believe that Bethany was innocent of starting it on both occasions. “Mrs. Ross has some wonderful old photos of the Frakes Baby House,” Bethany said brightly, attempting to salvage the situation.

  “You can have them if you like, since the house belonged to your family,” Mrs. Ross offered, holding out the yellowing photographs.

  Hefting Maree into one arm, he took the photos as if they could bite. “Maybe Bethany would like them since the house is of such consuming interest to her,” he said coldly.

  She wanted to beg him not to talk about her in such a disparaging tone. She hadn’t sought the photos nor encouraged Mrs. Ross to gossip. But the damage was done. He was clearly furious that the subject had arisen at all. “We’d better go, Maree will be hungry again soon,” she told the other woman.

  Oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around her, Mrs: Ross beamed at the baby. “Of course. Poor little mite. It’s just as well she has you, Nicholas, or she
’d be all alone in the world.”

  “That’s one thing she will never be,” he said in such a savage undertone that Bethany regarded him in astonishment. Other than bringing up the touchy subject of the Frakes Baby House, what on earth had Mrs. Ross said to provoke such a reaction?

  “Thank you for showing me around. I’ll call you to arrange an interview about your work,” she emphasized in case Nicholas thought she intended to press Mrs. Ross for more details about his family. It was becoming obvious that there was a scandal attached to the Frakes Baby House but the only person she wanted to hear it from was Nicholas himself, and after today he was more likely to send her packing back to Melbourne than to share his family secrets with her.

  He maintained an icy silence as he settled Maree in her car seat but when he slid behind the wheel he turned to Bethany, his expression thunderous. “You won’t be happy until you know the whole sordid story, will you?”

  This was too much. “Nicholas, whatever you think, I didn’t ask Mrs. Ross about the Frakes house. It was her idea to show me the photos, so you have no cause to be angry with me.”

  He slammed his palms against the steering wheel. “I noticed you didn’t exactly discourage her from discussing it.”

  “Discussing what? She hinted at some scandal attached to the house but that’s all.”

  He swung sideways to face her, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Then allow me to enlighten you. I have no time for the Frakes Baby House, as you call it, because it all but destroyed my family.”

  Chapter Five

  Bethany laced her fingers tightly together. “Please don’t do this, Nicholas.”

  “Don’t do what? Give you what you came for? My only question is, what will you do once you’ve got it?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He strained the words through his teeth. “Once I give you the story you came for, will you stay or will you up and leave?”

  Not long ago the answer would have been obvious. She had come to Yarrawong to find the long-lost Frakes Baby House. Now she was on the brink of succeeding, she wasn’t sure what she wanted any more. The story was important to her, crucial as a means of getting out of debt and saving her journal. But she knew it wasn’t why she wanted to stay.

  “I agreed to take care of Maree until you find someone permanent and I will, story or no story,” she said quietly, knowing it was far from being the whole truth. Nicholas himself was the reason she couldn’t imagine walking away. She had never met such a complex man—one moment playfully relaxed, the next as darkly fascinating and fearsome as a moonless landscape. The thought of exploring that unknown territory both excited and scared her but she was afraid it was already too late to go back. In allowing Nicholas to kiss her once she had already taken the first steps.

  Another thought came to her, and tension knifed through her as she added, “If you still want me here, that is.”

  “Bethany.” The word was so low and harsh it was barely recognizable as her own name. He steered the car off the road into the shadow of a pine forest, snapped off the engine and his seat belt before unfastening her seat belt in a swift series of movements.

  His actions were so decisive that she had no time to think before he reached for her. Fueled by his anger, his touch was more demanding than gentle, yet she was unable to stop her heartbeat becoming a frantic flutter as soon as he gathered her roughly into his arms.

  The warmth flooding her limbs owed nothing to the heat of the day and everything to how much she welcomed the feel of his arms around her. It also explained the whirlpool of confusing sensations eddying through her as he kissed her. A moment ago he had been furious with her and she had been afraid that his anger spelled the end of any chance to experience his touch again. Now his lips moved against hers with a fierceness that ignited her blood like a fever.

  She didn’t want to think about anything except how good it felt to be kissed by him, but her mind insisted on replaying his angry declaration about the baby house destroying his family.

  Another unwelcome thought took hold in her mind. The first time Nicholas had kissed her they’d been discussing the house, too. A fearful pressure gripped her heart, demanding her attention. If this was his way of distracting her, it was more effective than it had any right to be. It also meant the embrace was a fraud.

  As if he sensed her withdrawal he released her slowly. When he returned to his own side of the car she was aware of an internal emptiness that hadn’t been there before he kissed her, as if she had given up something precious. She knew her face was pale as she followed him with her eyes, the last flutters of her accelerated heartbeat lending her voice a faint tremor. “Nicholas, why did you do that?”

  He looked away to the shifting shadows of the surrounding bush. “Have you seen your reflection in a mirror lately?”

  She refused to let the implied compliment sidetrack her. “I mean kiss me when we were arguing about the dollhouse?”

  His pewter gaze flamed as he swung around to glare at her. “It wasn’t to change the subject under discussion, if that’s what you’re saying, although as distractions go it was pretty effective.”

  Perhaps he’d done it without conscious intention. “This is the second time it’s happened,” she pointed out uneasily.

  “Is it? Maybe it’s because a heated discussion with you gets my blood racing, and I lose just enough control to do something I won’t let myself do when I’m thinking more clearly.”

  The thought that she affected him to such an extent made her head spin for a moment, and she reached out for something to steady herself. The nearest support happened to be Nicholas’s arm. As soon as her fingers closed on his firm, warm flesh and she felt the fine hairs on his forearm teasing her palm, she knew exactly what he meant about losing control.

  He felt it, too, she noticed as his breathing became faster and shallower, mimicking hers. He turned his arm so her hand slid into his and their fingers interwove. “Would it help if I kissed you without getting mad at you first?”

  She dragged in a deep breath but still felt oxygen deprived. “It might not work. Perhaps we’re the kind of people who need to have a fight before they can...”

  “Make love?” he supplied when her voice trailed away.

  She almost choked. “I was going to say ‘be honest with each other.’”

  He gave a lazy grin, his fingers threading in and out of hers in a dance that sent shafts of delicious sensation spearing to the center of her being. “I like my answer better.”

  A muffled protest came from the back seat, followed by quiet whimpering. Nicholas gave a sigh. “Either way, we aren’t going to find out right now. It sounds as if the baby’s awake.”

  Not only awake but hungry and fractious, Bethany found when she got out to investigate. Kylie had supplied enough flasks of baby food to satisfy Maree’s immediate needs, but she insisted on feeding herself so it was a slow, messy process. In a curious way Bethany welcomed the distraction. It gave her the time she needed to collect her scattered wits and get her runaway emotions under control.

  Whatever Nicholas said, his actions spoke differently. He had kissed her twice, and on both occasions he was furious with her for raising the subject of the baby house. She didn’t really believe they were the type of people who needed to be angry in order to be passionate. At least she wasn’t. Again she lacked basic information to draw such conclusions about his character. But instinct and the experience of seeing him interact with the baby told Bethany he was more civilized than that. She was willing to bet he wouldn’t be a shrinking violet in bed, but he didn’t strike her as a caveman, either.

  She was glad to be occupied with cleaning and changing the baby so Nicholas couldn’t see her expression, which felt as if it was beet red. Even if he was a caveman it was no business of hers. Two kisses under adverse conditions hardly made her an expert on his romantic tendencies, and he had shown no signs of wanting any more from her. She was letting her fantasies run away with her agai
n. Around Nicholas it was becoming a bad habit.

  She was glad of the drive back to Yarrawong, which gave her chance to reestablish some kind of emotional control, at least outwardly. Inside was another matter.

  “Where are we going?” she asked when Nicholas directed her toward the building that housed his office. Waiting to greet them at the front door, Kylie had gladly taken charge of Maree, and the two of them had already gone inside. When Bethany started to follow, Nicholas had steered her toward the outbuilding.

  “I’m about to give you what you wanted,” he said tautly.

  “You’re going to show me the baby house now?”

  “Will I have any peace until I do?”

  Despair washed over her. “We’ve been over this. It isn’t my fault that Mrs. Ross brought the subject up and frankly, I don’t care if I never see the house if it’s such a source of pain to you.” She would find some other way to solve her problem.

  His startled look raked her features. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Nicholas.”

  His pace slowed. “You won’t. My reaction today tells me it’s time I dragged this thing into the light, so you could be doing me a favor.”

  He didn’t sound as if it was a favor, but he was determined to see it through. Trying to change his mind once it was made up was as futile as trying to hold back the waters of the Coliban River by main force. With a sigh she quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides.

  When she first arrived he had told her he had converted an old coach house into his office. It was a two-story building with a hayloft above it, a short distance away from the main house. Outwardly it looked every bit of its hundred and thirty years, with a heavy oak door that creaked when Nicholas opened it. But first he had to disable a modern alarm system, reminding her of the classified nature of his work.