‘Really? You don’t look it.’ Time might blur the edges of her beauty in the distant future, but with a bone structure like that the ageing process would be graceful.
The dark, direct stare was deeply disturbing. ‘Am I supposed to be flattered?’ she asked sharply to hide the fact that this unkempt man was making her feel flustered and more self-conscious than she could recall feeling in years!
‘I can do better than that…’
‘I’m sure you can.’
‘But I wouldn’t presume.’
Her brows drew together in a straight line as she looked at him. ‘I find that difficult to believe.’ He had the look of a man who’d do a lot of presuming.
‘Has he ever been married?’
‘As a matter of fact, no. And he’s not gay!’
‘I’m sure you did the right thing asking.’
‘I didn’t ask! Nigel is a cautious man, and he’s seen lots of his friends’ marriages break up.’ She didn’t add that Nigel had always seemed more appalled by the financial havoc this wrought when he’d mentioned the marital failures of his peers. ‘There’s nothing wrong with caution.’ She winced at the defensive note in her voice. There wasn’t a single reason why she needed to justify herself to this man.
‘Not a thing. Not unless it makes you deaf to gut instinct.’
‘Nigel isn’t too big on gut instinct,’ she said drily. She bit her lip, immediately feeling disloyal for voicing this opinion.
‘And you?’
‘Pardon?’ The icy note in her voice didn’t alert him to the fact that he was being unacceptably personal. Wasn’t that just typical? Just when you needed them, the tried and tested remedies let you down…
‘I suppose there are times when a lady like you just can’t afford to listen to her gut instincts,’ he reflected slowly. She searched his face suspiciously; she was certain, despite the gravity of his expression, she was being mocked. ‘I mean, you couldn’t just date any guy who wandered in off the street.’ This time there was no mistaking his reference. ‘Do you have a list? Suitable professions, salary, that sort of thing?’
‘If you want to say I’m a snob…’
‘I’m not really sure what you are,’ he confessed. ‘I’m feeling my way.’
‘I don’t want to be felt!’
‘That explains Nigel’s frustrated expression.’
‘If you’ve finished eating…?’ she said pointedly. She could see from his expression she was wasting her breath. Her haughtiness was passing right over his dark head.
‘Has it always been just the two of you?’
‘Are you always this curious about strangers?’
‘Charlie made me feel like one of the family.’ The flash of laughter in his eyes was reflected by the lopsided smile that tugged at one corner of his mouth. He didn’t let her into the private joke.
‘Really?’ Her arched eyebrows shot up. ‘That’s not something she makes a habit of.’
‘It’s like that sometimes, don’t you find? You meet someone and it feels as if you’ve known them for ever. You just click.’
His voice had a tactile quality when he lowered it to that soft, intimate level; it was almost as if he’d touched her—stroked her. She pushed aside this disturbing notion briskly, because the idea of being touched by this man was extremely disturbing!
‘I try not to make snap decisions.’ Panic was developing into an uncomfortable constriction in her throat. ‘I’m sure you do a lot more…clicking than me,’ she said tartly.
It occurred to her belatedly that it might be a mistake to swap sexual innuendo with someone she wanted to keep at a safe distance. She didn’t want to give the wrong impression.
A laugh was wrenched from his throat. ‘That sounded a lot like a snap judgement to me.’
‘I didn’t mean…’ she began, horrified. She stopped; that was exactly what she’d meant. He had the look of a man who put his charismatic personality to good use with the opposite sex. A sensible woman naturally distrusted a man with such raw, in-your-face sexuality.
‘Many a sexual athlete lurks behind horn-rimmed specs and a geeky exterior,’ he warned, amusement in his face. ‘So is it my social standing or physical appearance which places me in the no-go zone?’
He’d dropped the veiled pretence that this conversation was impersonal. Usually someone who welcomed straight speaking, she felt light-headed with an adrenalin rush that made her want to lock herself safely behind a closed door.
‘I don’t enjoy this sort of conversation.’
‘No, I don’t recall having a conversation precisely like this one before.’
‘Mum, I’m ready.’
Rachel turned, an expression of false vivacity on her face. For once Charlie’s timing was immaculate.
‘Right,’ she said briskly. Love swelled in her chest as she looked at the small figure. How could you feel cross with a child who looked at you with eyes like Charlie’s? she wondered. Especially when those eyes were underlined by dark rings of exhaustion. ‘You’d better say thank you to Mr…’
‘Steve will do just fine.’ A man called Steve wasn’t born with a silver spoon firmly pushed down his throat…a man named Steve didn’t choke on family obligations. He held out his hand and the sleeve of his jacket fell back to reveal the face of his Rolex. Casually he shook his cuff down. A pair of bright blue eyes followed his action.
‘Thank you…Steve?’ Small, delicate fingers were laid in his own; the guileless glance was knowing and slightly smug.
‘I’ll just see Charlie to bed for the second time tonight.’
Benedict watched them go, his expression thoughtful. Charlie didn’t miss much at all, he mused.
Rachel had half expected her guest would be difficult to get rid of. She’d been rehearsing tactful ways to make him leave in her head. She felt vaguely deflated, and relieved of course—yes, she was relieved—to find him standing in the sitting room obviously waiting to go when she re-emerged from Charlie’s bedroom.
‘Thanks for the sandwich.’
‘You didn’t tell me where you found Charlie or how…’ He hadn’t actually told her much at all. She’d done all the revealing.
‘You could say she found me,’ he said. The statement made him grin for some reason.
‘I’ll never forget what you did.’
‘But you’ll forget me?’
She decided to ignore this challenge. Kissing him would be open to misinterpretation so she clasped one of his hands firmly between both of hers.
‘I can’t tell you how relieved I was to hear that doorbell. I’ve no doubt you think I’m the world’s worst mother.’ He was looking at her hands with a peculiar expression so self-consciously she let his hand go.
‘For about two seconds, but first impressions can be misleading.’
She misunderstood the significance of his words. ‘I expect you get a lot of that. I mean looking the way you do…’ She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. When you’ve dug a hole, Rachel, stop before it’s too deep to climb out of, she told herself. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the way you look.’ She couldn’t resist trying to repair the damage.
‘And there’s nothing wrong with the way you look, no matter what the boyfriend