‘Let’s get out of here.’ Obviously impatient to be gone, Jarrett glanced over at Charlie, who was still throwing the ball for an excitable Dylan to fetch.
Sophia touched his sleeve to get his attention. ‘If someone’s running me down I’m quite capable of standing up for myself, you know. You don’t need to act as my protector.’
‘No one’s running you down. People are just curious about you, and I don’t want you to feel inhibited by what you imagine they think of you.’ Shaking his head, he hunted her with his azure gaze so that there was nowhere for her to hide. ‘I’ve sensed since we met that something bad happened before you came here … something you want to escape from. You told me that you’re a widow but that you aren’t sorry about the fact. I’m not asking you to reveal the details about what happened right now, but all I’ll say is that if you’ve been hurt by someone I don’t intend for you to be hurt again by people’s narrow-minded suspicions.’
‘I see.’
Whilst she’d already told him that she didn’t need him to act as her protector, Sophia couldn’t deny the wave of warmth that his compassionate defence stirred inside her. It was an exhilarating feeling, and she wondered what she had done to deserve it. Having dealt with her problems single-handedly for so long, it was irresistibly comforting to have someone exhibit compassion towards her.
Just when Jarrett seemed about to make another plea for them to leave, she lifted a slender brow, smiled, and asked lightly, ‘Does our little trip to the seaside include food? It’s just that you’re dragging us away from that incredible-looking feast up there on the patio and I’m feeling rather hungry.’
‘I’ll treat you both to a five course meal at a swanky restaurant, if that’s any inducement?’
‘You don’t need to go that far. Charlie and I are extremely partial to a bit of fish and chips at the seaside.’
With a cheeky grin that squeezed Jarrett’s heart, Sophia swept past him to inform her son about the sudden change of plans.
Not only had Sophia collected her camera by the time Jarrett had followed her and Charlie home in his Range Rover, but she’d also picked up her son’s swim-trunks, towel, and a bucket and spade.
When they got to the beach she made a foray into the frigid sea in her rolled-up jeans and shirt—with a shrieking Charlie splashing about beside her—whilst Jarrett stood barefoot in the sand calmly watching them, declaring that they must be mad to even think of immersing themselves in such freezing cold water. Though she didn’t turn round to check, Sophia sensed his eyes on her as though they were twin suns burning into her skin. Just the thought of him observing her was enough to make her temperature rise, despite the cold of the sea.
To distract herself from the realisation, she dipped her hands into the water, spun round and aimed what she’d collected at Jarrett. The water hit him straight in the face.
‘I can’t believe you just did that.’ He rubbed at his dripping eyelids and scowled.
Laughing out loud at his shocked expression, Sophia couldn’t prepare herself for his reaction. Never mind that he was going to get soaked, Jarrett raced up beside her, grabbed her by the waist and lifted her high into his arms.
Charlie could scarcely contain his delight. ‘What are you going to do with my mummy, Mr Jarrett?’ he squealed.
‘All’s fair in love and war, Charlie.’ Directing the comment at Sophia, Jarrett gave her an unashamedly roguish grin.
Her heart thumped in alarm when she realised that he was probably going to dump her fully clothed into the sea, so she fastened her arms round his neck and made her expression as fierce as she was able. ‘Don’t you dare! If you do I’ll take you with me, I swear!’
‘That’s a puny threat. I’m twice your size. You’re hardly strong enough to take me down with you.’
‘Try me!’ Sophia warned.
But as her furious gaze locked with his the volatile tenor of the situation changed completely to something far more exciting and disturbing to her peace of mind. His nearness, along with the sexily musky aroma of his cologne, made her feel dangerously weak. Not just weak but aroused … Straight away she saw by Jarrett’s darkened pupils that she was having the same effect on him.
‘Maybe I’ll save the dunking for another day,’ he commented huskily, then abruptly returned her to her feet and the freezing water that lapped the shore.
Murmuring, ‘In your dreams …’ to hide her embarrassment, Sophia directed her full attention back to her son. ‘Come on, Charlie, let’s run towards the waves and run back again before they reach us!’
By the time she and Charlie ran back onto the shore, a few minutes later, Jarrett was waiting with the generous sized bathtowel she’d brought from home. Catching her eye, he smiled as if to reassure her he held no grudges about her splashing him with ice-cold seawater. Then he unhesitatingly wrapped the towel around Charlie, as if genuinely concerned that he get warm and dry again as quickly as possible.
Sophia was certain that anyone observing them would assume that he was the boy’s father. Their colouring—apart from the eyes, of course—was practically identical. The notion gave her the strangest most unsettling pang. Jarrett was bigger, leaner and more muscular in build than her husband Tom had been … taller too. It wasn’t likely that Charlie would reach a similar height. Yet he would undoubtedly be handsome when he was grown.
Ruffling her son’s damp corkscrew curls, Jarrett stood aside so that Sophia could finish off the drying and help him get dressed. With his T-shirt and shorts on again, Charlie was eager to collect some seashells, so he skipped a little bit further on down the beach with his red bucket and spade, his mother’s clear instruction to not wander out of her sight ringing in his ears. Deliberately avoiding glancing directly at Jarrett, because his commanding masculine presence was making her feel painfully self-conscious, she lifted her long, drenched plaits off the back of her neck, arranged the towel round her shoulders and stooped to pick up the straw bag with the spare set of clothing that she’d left lying on the sand next to her sandals. Her jeans and shirt were plastered icily to her skin where Charlie had splashed her.
‘I’m going over by those rocks to change,’ she told Jarrett, finally meeting his arresting cobalt gaze. ‘Would you keep an eye on Charlie for me?’
‘No problem. I’ll go and join him to help collect seashells.’
Even though they’d spent a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon together on the beach, and at the small seaside restaurant where they’d had fish and chips, Jarrett honestly hadn’t expected Sophia to invite him in when they reached High Ridge. But fate was on his side. Charlie had fallen asleep in his car seat.
Sophia got out of the car, peered in at him, then glanced round at Jarrett with an almost apologetic shrug. ‘Would you mind carrying him into the house for me? I’ll grab our things and open the door.’
On entering the hallway, he saw the ceiling with its old-fashioned cornices was far loftier than he’d anticipated, but the overall impression Jarrett got was that the place was as dark and dingy as Miss Havisham’s decaying manor in Great Expectations. The remaining evening light that did manage to stream in through the front door’s decorated windowpanes was nowhere near illuminating enough to make the place remotely welcoming. Underfoot was an equally dingy, well-trodden maroon carpet that in his view ought to be replaced, or at least given a professional clean.
As he followed Sophia into the house, carefully transporting her still-sleeping little boy in his arms, he couldn’t help reflecting that he’d love to help restore the place to