‘I’m taking Charlie her drink,’ she announced, turning her back firmly on him and this disturbingly intimate conversation.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘AND then Mum kissed him. They thought I was asleep…’

‘Charlie!’

‘Oh, hiya, Mum. I let Nigel in. You didn’t hear the doorbell. I expect you and Ben were—’

‘That’s enough, Charlie; go to your room!’ Rachel said quietly. The tone in her mother’s voice made the animated expression fade from her daughter’s face.

‘But…’

‘Now!’

The expression of hurt incomprehension on Nigel’s face was making her feel like a bitch—which, looked at from his perspective, she was! He looked like a man whose belief in Santa Claus had been dashed.

She couldn’t really lay the blame at Charlie’s door, even though she was under no illusions that there had been anything artless about those confidences. She ought to have confessed her true feelings or lack of them sooner. With the ruthlessness of the very young Charlie had seized on the opportunity to get rid of someone she disliked irrespective of the hurt she might be inflicting.

‘Do you want me to stay?’

Rachel raised her eyes to Benedict who had entered the room in her wake. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said quietly. That would be rubbing salt in the wound.

‘My God!’ Nigel got to his feet, an expression of incredulity contorting his regular features. ‘He’s the thug with the attitude…the barrister you’re working for.’ His gaze slid from Benedict’s impassive features to Rachel’s face, which was coloured by a guilty flush. ‘Black leather and role-playing…I didn’t know sick games like that turned you on, Rachel.’

The contempt in his voice made her feel grubby and if possible even guiltier. ‘It was just a coincidence, Nigel.’

His scornful laugh rang out. ‘Please; I may not be one of life’s intellectual giants, but give me some credit. I don’t believe in coincidences.’

What could she say? Neither had she a few days before. Rachel clasped her hands in distress. She hadn’t wanted it to end like this. Why, oh, why had she let things drag on? Why, oh, why had she kissed Ben? A thousand ‘whys’ rushed through her mind.

‘I don’t suppose you didn’t want to rush things with him.’ He looked at her with fastidious distaste as he caricatured her tone.

‘Ben and I—we’re not… I mean, we haven’t…’ She looked to the tall, silent figure at her side for inspiration.

‘Yet. We haven’t yet, sweetheart,’ Benedict said, clarifying the point helpfully.

‘Thank you!’ she snapped from between clenched teeth. He was probably enjoying this.

‘I’m just glad I found out now, before it was too late, what sort of woman you actually are. I was prepared to make allowances for youthful indiscretion.’

Rachel stiffened at this patronising allusion to her daughter. Benedict’s arm moved lightly around her waist and she was grateful for the contact. His splayed fingertips moved over the bony prominence of her hip. The slow, sensuous, soothing movement took the edge off her anxiety. It did a lot of other things too, which, given the circumstances, said a lot about her susceptibility to this man.

‘If I’d known your tastes ran to perversions…’

Nigel’s thin lips curled as he openly sneered at her and Rachel’s temper flared. Guilt would only compel her to accept so much. Perversions indeed!

‘I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, Nigel, but that’s just plain ridiculous and you know it! I can’t marry you, Nigel. I should have told you.’

‘Do you think I’d want you?’ He gaped at her as if she were mad. ‘I’m just glad now that we’ve never slept together…’

That was just in case Ben had missed the previous hints, she decided, repressing a groan.

‘You and me both,’ Benedict murmured softly in her ear. He tucked a strand of soft brown hair behind her ear and sent a jolt of neat, toe-curling electricity all the way to her feet.

Nigel’s eyes were riveted jealously on the apparently intimate gesture. ‘I thought you were something special,’ he spat. ‘I put you on a pedestal. I can see now that Jenny was right about you.’

‘Jenny?’

‘She’s Ted Wilson’s cousin. She was very sympathetic on Tuesday.’

‘The Tuesday you had a cold.’

‘If you must know I felt we needed some time apart for…’

‘You to sulk?’ she suggested. ‘And regale the dinner party with my shortcomings?’




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