firmly.
‘By keeping yourself emotionally apart?’ Nick guessed.
Tears glistened on her lashes as she nodded. ‘And we both know how to do that, don’t we?’
Nick had meant to pierce that prickly exterior Beth presented to the world. To have her talk to him, tell him things about herself, anything about herself, as long as she let him in.
And by doing so he had hurt her. Had brought all that pain and suffering back into stark relief.
‘Your car lights are off, Daddy,’ Bekka announced happily as she came back into the kitchen. ‘And there are some carol singers at the door,’ she added excitedly as she slipped her hand into his. ‘Can we go and listen to them and then give them some money?’
Nick dragged his gaze away from Beth to smile down at his daughter. ‘Sure we can.’ He gave her hand a squeeze before glancing across the kitchen. ‘Coming, Beth?’
‘I—no,’ Beth refused. ‘I’m just going to finish up here and then call a taxi, but the two of you go ahead,’ she urged lightly.
He frowned darkly. ‘We haven’t finished talking, Beth.’
‘I think we’ve said all that needs to be said, don’t you?’ she dismissed.
Nick continued to look at her broodingly for several long seconds before he felt Bekka’s renewed tugging on his hand and allowed his daughter to pull him out into the hallway.
Beth sat down on one of the kitchen chairs as soon as she had finished talking to the taxi company and put the tumbet in the oven, very aware of her need to get away from here. Away from the cloyingly domestic atmosphere of just being here with Bekka and Nick. And the maelstrom of emotions that created inside her.
She had loved Ben so much—been devastated when he died. Her only way of coping with his loss, and that of her parents, had been to remove herself from the place where she had spent so many happy years with all of them. To move to London, a place where she could be assured of anonymity. A place where she could live quietly and privately, separate and apart from all emotional involvement.
Being here like this with Nick and Bekka had given Beth a painful glimpse of a life that she had long ago decided could no longer ever be hers. A full and happy life. A life that included a husband and children of her own.
After Ben had died Beth had told herself that if she never loved again, never had any of those things, then she could never be hurt again, either. Would never again have to go through the pain of losing someone she loved.
She realised now how foolish she had been to believe herself capable of shutting out all emotion. How stupid, how utterly, utterly stupid that belief had been, when just being here again with Nick and Bekka told her it was already too late—that without meaning to she had already allowed herself to care again. Not just for Bekka, but for Nick too.
To more than care for him…?
Beth shied away from admitting even to herself to feeling any more than attracted to him. If she didn’t acknowledge it, then perhaps it would just go away!
Just as Beth intended getting away from here, the moment her taxi arrived!
‘I told the taxi driver to wait outside.’
She spun round guiltily to face Nick, his eyes hooded as he stood in the kitchen doorway looking across at her. ‘Where’s Bekka?’ she prompted brightly.
‘Still listening to the carol singers.’
Beth nodded abruptly as she gave Paddy an absentminded pat on the head before picking up her handbag. ‘I’ll say goodbye to her on my way out.’
Nick frowned as he remained unmoving in the doorway. ‘We haven’t finished our conversation yet, Beth.’
She swallowed hard. ‘There’s nothing else to say.’
Nick crossed the room to stand in front of her. ‘Damn it, Beth, talk to me!’
‘My taxi is waiting—’
‘I instructed the driver to wait until you’re ready to leave,’ Nick told her.
Beth gave a pained frown. ‘I’ve done what you asked me to do and taken care of Bekka while you went to the hospital. I’ve even cooked dinner for both of you. I think the least you can do for me is to let me leave without fuss.’
His mouth firmed. ‘Run away, you mean?’
Beth gasped as the barb struck home. ‘That was uncalled-for, Nick!’
Yes, it had been, he acknowledged self-disgustedly. Uncalled-for and unnecessarily cruel. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Beth, I just—I want to help you,’ he encouraged gruffly as he reached out and grasped both her hands in his.
She drew in a ragged breath. ‘You can’t help me, Nick. No one can. Now, would you please just let me leave?’ she pleaded emotionally.
Nick could see that she was going to cry. He had managed to make Beth cry when all he’d wanted was to—
What? What did he want from her?
More to the point, what did he possibly have to give a woman like Beth? A woman who had been so hurt by life, by the loss of the husband and parents that she’d loved, that she had decided never to allow emotion into her life again.
As cynical as Nick’s own feelings were towards love, he knew he was the last person—the very last person—to give anyone advice on the subject!
Even so, it was hard to stand back and watch Beth as she left. To know that he had helped cause those unshed tears that glistened on her long dark lashes as she walked away from him…
Chapter Eight
‘NICK…?’ Beth felt the colour drain from her face as she answered the ringing of the doorbell to her apartment the following afternoon and found him standing outside in the hallway. ‘What have you done with Bekka?’ she asked as she realised Nick was alone.
‘Bekka is at home with Mrs Bennett,’ Nick supplied evenly, his grey gaze guarded.
‘She’s better?’
He nodded. ‘And wondering what all the fuss was about.’
‘That’s good.’ Beth nodded, trying not to notice how attractive Nick looked in a black cashmere sweater and black denims, his hair brushed back from the rugged handsomeness of his face. ‘What can I do for you?’ she queried brightly.
‘Inviting me in would be a good place to start…’
Beth gave a pained wince. She’d had plenty of time since yesterday evening to realise how completely she had let herself down during her last conversation with Nick. How much of herself, her vulnerability, she had revealed to him.
She gave a self-conscious grimace. ‘I was feeling a little—emotional yesterday evening. Christmas is always a difficult time of year, isn’t it?’ She attempted a laugh that
