mist that pressed like a wet grey blanket against the glass, Joel began to unpack the carrier. There was a jar of instant coffee, a plastic carton of milk, a tub of sunflower spread, an unopened pack of cheese and a small sliced loaf.
‘Hardly a feast,’ he commented, ‘but quite adequate, so long as you like cheese and coffee and you don’t take sugar.’
‘I do, and I don’t,’ she answered.
He gave her a lazy smile that made her heart quicken and, taking off his short car-coat, tossed it over a chair. ‘In that case we don’t have a problem.’
As soon as the kettle started to sing, he made the coffee and handed her one of the steaming mugs.
Sipping it gratefully, she watched while, with cool efficiency, he made a plate of sandwiches and, carrying that and two smaller plates over to the hearth, put them on a low table.
The heat of the coffee banishing the last lingering inner coldness, she said, ‘I don’t think I need this any longer,’ and, rising to her feet, made to take off her coat.
He helped her off with it, then, pulling up a chair, joined her in front of what was now a blazing fire and, offering the plate of sandwiches, urged, ‘Do make a start.’
‘I’m not very hungry.’
When he continued to hold the plate, though she felt too pleasantly agitated to eat, she took a sandwich just to show willing.
‘That’s better.’ He smiled at her.
His teeth gleamed white and even and his smile held such charm that her heart began to beat faster.
Despite the emotional upheaval, after the first few bites her usual healthy appetite kicked in and she found herself enjoying the simple fare. Or, rather, enjoying the fact that she was sitting in front of a blazing fire sharing a plate of sandwiches with the man who had lived in her heart and mind and dreams for so long.
It was almost too wonderful to be true, and she felt like pinching herself to make sure that the whole thing wasn’t just another dream.
CHAPTER TWO
‘MORE?’ Joel queried when the plate was empty.
Replete, Bethany shook her head with a little sigh of contentment.
Noting the sigh, he raised a well-marked brow and teased, ‘That bad, huh?’
‘As a matter of fact I’ve thoroughly enjoyed them,’ she said, made breathless by his teasing smile.
‘I thought at first that you might be too concerned to eat.’
‘Concerned?’
‘About spending the night with a total stranger.’
He wasn’t a total stranger. She had known him for six years. But she could hardly tell him that. He would think she was mad.
Aware of his eyes on her, she said jerkily, ‘I’m not at all concerned.’
‘You seem a little…shall we say…flustered?’
Not knowing quite what to say to that, she remained silent until he queried, ‘So what brings you to these parts?’
‘I’m here on business.’
The mention of business broke through the spell his presence wove, reminding her that she ought to let Tony know she couldn’t get back.
Reaching for her bag, she took out her mobile.
Joel gave her an enquiring look.
‘I must just call the Dundale Inn and let Tony know I can’t get back tonight.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll be wasting your time,’ Joel told her. ‘You won’t get a signal here.’
‘Oh…’ As she glanced around, wondering if there was a phone she could borrow, he added lightly, ‘And knowing we’re marooned together with just one bed, might give him a sleepless night.’
‘He wouldn’t be worried.’ But, remembering his attempts at seduction, she found her colour rising. The intimacy that ‘marooned together with just one bed’ implied, and thinking a strange man might succeed where he’d failed would make him furious.
Watching her companion note that blush, she added hastily, ‘Tony’s my boss.’
‘I see,’ Joel said in a way that showed he didn’t see at all.
‘I—I mean he’s not my boyfriend.’
‘Well, either way, if he has any sense he won’t be expecting you back on a night like this.’
He was no doubt right, Bethany thought, and abandoning any idea of phoning, dropped the mobile back into her bag.
Stretching long legs towards the fire, Joel asked idly, ‘What kind of business are you in?’
‘Antiques,’ she answered quietly, still a little overawed by his presence.
‘Your own business?’
She shook her head and her hair, listened in the candlelight. ‘No. Tony, my boss, owns Feldon Antiques.’
‘Of course,’ Joel murmured.
‘But I am picking up small, affordable pieces that Feldon Antiques wouldn’t touch, with a view to one day starting my own business.’
‘You’re the buyer?’
She hesitated. Respecting her judgement and knowledge of antiques, a year before his death James had made her the firm’s buyer, trusting her to buy at a keen but fair price.
Since Tony had taken over, however, though he relied on her to seek out and identify the rarer items they dealt in—items they sold on to collectors worldwide—he hadn’t allowed her to put a price on them.
But she was still the official buyer, she reminded herself, and answered firmly, ‘Yes.’
‘Does the job involve much travelling?’
‘An occasional visit to Europe or the States.’
He raised an eyebrow and questioned, ‘So what do you think of The Big Apple?’
‘I think New York’s wonderful. I remember first falling in love with it when as a young girl I saw Breakfast at Tiffany’s.’ Bethany smiled at the memory.
He grinned. ‘And I remember falling in love with Audrey Hepburn.’
For a little while they discussed their favourite old films, then he harked back to query, ‘Presumably with your job you put in long hours?’
‘Yes, but then I get time off in lieu. This week I’ll be in the shop on Wednesday, then I’ve got until Monday off.’
‘What
