Presents, Passion and Proposals: The Billionaire's Christmas Gift / One Christmas Night in Venice / Snowbound with the Millionaire

Nick shrugged. ‘It seems a pity for you to have to prepare something for yourself when you get home.’

She shrugged slender shoulders beneath that overlarge sweater. ‘The tumbet won’t be ready for another hour or so.’

‘And is spending another hour or so in my company such a problem?’ he probed huskily.

‘Of course not,’ she said sharply. ‘I just—I thought you promised Bekka that you would keep stirring the sauce?’ she reminded with a frown.

‘To hell with the sauce!’ A nerve pulsed in Nick’s tightly clenched jaw.

‘The tumbet will be ruined if the sauce burns,’ Beth pointed out ruefully.

‘To hell with the tumbet too!’ Nick took the saucepan off the hob before taking a deliberate step closer to Beth, so that he now towered over her much slighter form. ‘Tell me the real reason you’re refusing to stay and have dinner with Bekka and me,’ he demanded.

Beth feigned an uninterest she didn’t feel as she gave another dismissive shrug. Feigned, because she was too aware of Nick, of his close proximity, to feel in the least uninterested!

‘You’re very pale, Beth. I think you need to eat…’

‘What I need is to be allowed to leave here so that I can get on with my own life!’ Beth knew by the way Nick’s eyes narrowed on her speculatively that she had spoken more forcefully than she had intended. Than was prudent with a man as perceptive as Nick Steele.

But she couldn’t be here with this man and his young daughter. Found this whole domesticated scenario too disturbing. Almost as disturbing as she found Nick himself…!

Beth pushed away from the kitchen unit to move abruptly away from him. Away from the sensual spell his proximity was once again weaving about her already heightened senses…

‘It will take me another twenty minutes or so to get the tumbet in the oven, and then I’m going home,’ she told him abruptly, before turning away with the intention of removing the roasted vegetables from the oven.

‘Beth, what the—’

‘Take your hand off me!’ she gasped as he grasped her arm.

Nick looked down searchingly into that pale and delicately lovely face; Beth’s eyes were huge and haunted, her cheeks paler than ever, her lips trembling slightly, her chin raised in the constant challenge this woman seemed to feel she had to show to the world. To him in particular…?

He gave a shake of his head. ‘I want you to stay and have dinner with us, Beth.’

‘Unfortunately those wants conflict with my own.’ She held his gaze as she firmly, determinedly, moved out of his grasp.

Nick let her go, not wanting to bruise a single inch of that delicately pale skin. ‘What do you want, Beth?’

She drew in a ragged breath. ‘I want you to leave me alone, Nick. For you not to call me again. To stop involving me in your own and Bekka’s lives.’

‘Isn’t that going to be a little hard to do when you’re one of Bekka’s teachers…?’

‘I meant your personal lives,’ Beth insisted.

‘And by personal lives, you mean…?’

‘I mean insisting I go out to dinner with the two of you,’ she said impatiently. ‘Inviting me to go bowling. To spend Christmas Day with the two of you here—’ She broke off as her voice broke emotionally. ‘To looking after Bekka. To cooking dinner for the two of you…’

‘Beth—’

‘Please don’t touch me, Nick!’ She backed away from him, her cheeks chalky-white now. ‘I—it was hard for me when Ben and my parents—when they all died. But somehow, little by little, I survived. I survived, Nick!’ she repeated shakily.

‘I can see that,’ Nick murmured distractedly, and he thrust his hands into his trouser pockets—before he gave in to the impulse he had to take this woman in his arms and attempt to make all the pain she had suffered go away!

Beth was so young, so delicate, too damned fragile to have suffered and survived the things she had been through—the death of her parents and her husband.

‘I intend continuing to survive,’ she added 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.’