‘Bekka assured me that you don’t have anywhere else to go on Christmas Day, but maybe she was wrong…?’
Beth bristled. ‘My plans for Christmas are none of your concern, Mr Steele.’
‘Look, Mrs Morgan, I have several meetings I have to get through this morning so that I can be free to attend the Nativity Play later today. Why don’t you come out with Bekka and me for a meal afterwards and we can—?’
‘No, Mr Steele,’ Beth cut in firmly.
‘Why not?’
‘Again, it would be…inappropriate.’
‘I’ll let you pay the bill if you think that would make it more appropriate,’ he came back mockingly. ‘Or maybe you imagine that this invitation to dinner is just a preliminary to my trying to get you into bed…?’
‘Really, Mr Steele!’ Beth gasped.
‘Don’t tell me that I’ve actually succeeded in rendering you speechless!’ he taunted.
‘You’re being utterly ridiculous—’
‘No more so than the reasons you’ve given for refusing my invitation to join Bekka and me on Christmas Day,’ he retorted.
Perfectly legitimate reasons as far as Beth was concerned. Besides, she didn’t want to spend Christmas Day with Nick Steele—
She didn’t want to spend Christmas Day with Nick Steele…? Not Bekka, but specifically Nick Steele?
He unnerved her, Beth realised. All that forceful energy and sexual magnetism disturbed her in ways she couldn’t explain. In ways she didn’t want to explain!
She straightened impatiently. ‘I’m not some sort of charity case, Mr Steele—’
‘My invitation has nothing to do with charity. In fact, you would be doing me a favour if you agreed to come,’ he continued heavily. ‘This will be our first Christmas since Bekka’s mother died of cancer, and—’ Nick broke off with a self-disgusted grimace; he was starting to sound as wheedling as Bekka now!
Damn it, he hadn’t even wanted Bekka’s biology teacher to spend Christmas Day with the two of them. He’d been protesting against that happening for days now.
When he had believed he was having a complete stranger foisted on him…
When he had thought Mrs Morgan was an elderly and possibly bewhiskered widow.
Instead she was a young woman in her twenties. A young and beautiful woman in her twenties.
A very prickly young and beautiful woman in her twenties…!
‘And…?’ Beth prompted as Nick’s continued silence began to stretch awkwardly between them.
‘And having a third person around may just make it less of an ordeal for both of us,’ he finished.
Beth moistened dry lips. ‘I hadn’t realised your wife had died so recently.’
‘Ten months ago. And Janet and I had been divorced for over two years before she died,’ Nick Steele explained stiffly.
It didn’t sound as if it had been an amicable divorce, Beth recognised ruefully. Even so, it would still have been a shock to Nick, as well as to his young daughter, when Janet Steele died.
Was Beth allowing the sudden and painful death of Ben and her own parents to emotionally draw her in…?
If she was, then it wasn’t on Nick Steele’s behalf but Bekka’s, Beth told herself firmly. The arrogantly forceful Nick Steele was a man who gave every indication of being well able to take care of himself. And his emotions. If he had any…
She was being unfair now, Beth recognised irritably. Allowing her own prejudice towards the man to colour her opinions; Nick obviously loved his young daughter very much if he was willing to put up with having a stranger in his home on Christmas Day in an effort to make it as pleasant as possible for Bekka.
Beth had preferred it when she had just been able to think of Nick Steele as being impossibly arrogant!
‘I suppose I could go out for a meal with the two of you this evening—’
‘That’s settled, then.’ Nick cut briskly across her tentative acceptance. ‘I have a meeting to go to now, so we’ll sort out the details later this afternoon,’ he dismissed, before ringing off abruptly.
Leaving Beth feeling slightly dazed as she stood alone in the corridor, staring down at her mobile as if it were all the inanimate object’s fault that she now found herself in this uncomfortable position!
‘I have to stay here and make sure none of the girls forgets anything, and then help tidy away before I’ll be able to join you and Bekka,’ Beth told Nick after he had sought her out backstage once the school Nativity Play had ended.
Her shoulder-length hair, now it was dry, was a deep rich auburn, Nick noted admiringly. A deep rich auburn that was a perfect foil for her pale complexion and those blue eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes.
Eyes that somehow managed to avoid looking directly at Nick as he leant casually back against the wall, well out of the way of the crowd of excited and chattering girls as they came out of the dressing room before hurrying off in search of their parents.
No doubt about it. Tiny and slender, in a fitted pale blue sweater that outlined small firm breasts and a flat abdomen, and tailored black trousers that did the same for the rounded curve of her bottom and slender legs, Bethan Morgan was a delicately lovely young woman.
She certainly bore little resemblance today to that bedraggled waif and stray that Nick had met two days ago!
‘Mr Steele…?’
Nick’s gaze narrowed to icy indifference as he realised he had been staring at her for too long. ‘As we’re going to be spending the evening together I think it might be better if you called me Nick.’
Beth continued to keep her gaze on the level of Nick’s perfectly knotted tie, totally flustered by his presence backstage. And totally aware, after her first brief glance at him, of how elegantly attractive he looked in a dark business suit and pale blue silk shirt that emphasised the width of his shoulders and chest, and tapered waist and long muscled legs.
‘Bethan…?’ The amusement could be heard in Nick Steele’s voice.
Beth flicked an irritated glance up at that toohandsome face. And instantly wished she hadn’t as she found her attention captured by amused grey eyes set in a hard and yet sensually magnetic face. A face guaranteed to set a woman’s pulse racing.
Including her own?
Unfortunately, yes!
Strangely—because this man was the complete opposite of the blond-haired, blue-eyed and totally uncomplicated Ben…
Or the young man she’d had a noncommittal dinner with a couple of months ago—her first date since Ben had died.
During that first year after Ben and her parents had been killed Beth had been too numbed by their loss to do any more than simply function on a day-today basis. She had been an only child from a closeknit family. And she had loved Ben all of her life. He had been her best friend as well as her husband.
But once Beth had got over the shock, accepted that her parents and Ben were really gone, she’d had to get out of the place she’d grown up in and where she and Ben had made their own home after their wedding.
London—its sheer size, and the amount of people who lived here—had been hard for Beth to cope with at first. But slowly she had been drawn into the pace of life here, making several friends amongst the other teaching staff, and occasionally joining them on visits to the cinema or out for a meal. A couple of