Presents, Passion and Proposals: The Billionaire's Christmas Gift / One Christmas Night in Venice / Snowbound with the Millionaire. Jane Porter
sure that Bekka and I will manage just fine without you,’ Beth assured him.
Nick’s eyes narrowed in warning. ‘Just carry on the way you’re going, Beth…’
She arched auburn brows. ‘And what?’
His smile was feral. ‘I’ll let you know when I get back.’
She gave him a wry smile. ‘And am I supposed to live in fear until then?’
Nick gave a slow, warning shake of his head. ‘You’re playing with fire, Beth.’
Beth felt a quiver of apprehension run down the length of her spine as she looked up into those narrowed grey eyes. Or could it be expectation…? She was deliberately baiting this man, she knew. Couldn’t seem to help herself. Couldn’t stop herself from forcing a response from him. Any response.
The promise of retribution she could read in those mocking grey eyes warned her that she wasn’t going to like that response if she carried on deliberately baiting him.
Or that she might like it too much…!
She drew in a shaky breath. ‘Just go to the hospital, Nick,’ she advised heavily.
Nick continued to look down at her frowningly for several long seconds before giving an abrupt nod of his head. ‘Plan on having dinner with Bekka and me later.’
She bristled. ‘Isn’t it usual to ask rather than assume?’
He gave a humourless smile. ‘Where you’re concerned? No.’ He gave a shake of his head. ‘On the assumption you’re going to refuse to accept any payment for sitting with Bekka—’
‘You assume correctly!’ she snapped.
Nick nodded. ‘The least I can do is offer you dinner.’
‘Offer, yes. Assume, no. Besides,’ Beth added, ‘you already gave me dinner four nights ago. Unless…’ She looked up at him suspiciously. ‘When you said “plan on” having dinner with you and Bekka were you actually implying that I should cook it first?’
He chuckled throatily. ‘Not much gets past you, does it, Beth?’
‘You do want me to cook dinner!’ she gasped incredulously.
‘You know the old saying—“feed a cold, starve a fever”.’ Nick shrugged. ‘And obviously Mrs Bennett isn’t here to do it. Of course you could just leave Bekka to my less than proficient skills in the kitchen…’
‘You—I—’ Beth’s eyes were now flashing a deep blue in disgust. ‘Just go, Nick,’ she advised again in carefully modulated tones.
‘I’ll be glad to, now I know the problem of dinner is settled,’ he agreed brightly.
‘Nothing is “settled”, Nick,’ she warned him firmly.
‘Sure it is.’ He gave her a triumphant grin before leaving.
Beth stood in the hallway fuming for several long minutes after Nick had gone.
He was the most arrogant, infuriating—
She had told herself all of this before! Several times, in fact. And yet here she was, back at Nick’s house, taking care of Bekka, and with the added expectation on Nick’s part that she would cook dinner for them all this evening…!
‘I see that you’re feeling better, Bekka,’ Nick said thankfully when he returned early that evening and entered the kitchen in search of his young daughter and Beth, and found the two of them in there preparing dinner together, along with the huge cross-breed of a dog that Bekka had adopted six months ago. There was definitely some Irish Wolfhound in there, if Paddy’s colouring and size was anything to go by—or perhaps it was just wolf!
‘Daddy!’ A happily grinning Bekka rushed over to give him a hug. ‘How’s Mrs Bennett?’
‘Well enough to come home tomorrow,’ Nick assured her as he returned the hug, at the same time giving the traitorous Paddy a censorious glare as the mutt completely ignored him to lean slavishly against Beth’s leg, looking up at her adoringly. Nick usually had a fight as to whether or not the dog would even let him into his own house, and in the few short hours he had been gone Beth had managed to tame the beast.
The whole household seemed to be falling under this woman’s spell!
‘Dinner smells good,’ Nick muttered, as Bekka returned to stirring something in a saucepan on top of the cooker.
‘Let’s hope it tastes the same way,’ Beth drawled, telling Nick that she still hadn’t completely forgiven him for emotionally blackmailing her into making dinner—primarily for Bekka’s sake, but for the two of them, too.
In truth, Nick was no longer sure that it was a good idea, either, as he inwardly acknowledged that the highly domestic scene he had walked in on a few minutes ago was a little too cosy for his comfort. Although Beth didn’t look any more relaxed than he did, Nick noted, as she deliberately turned her back on him to carry on peeling the potatoes in the sink.
‘What is it?’ he prompted curiously as he detected the delectable smell of garlic rising from the pan Bekka was stirring so diligently.
‘It’s something called Pork Tumbet.’ Bekka turned to grin at him.
‘It’s just pork chops covered in seasonal vegetables and cooked in a tomato and garlic sauce. Then the whole thing is covered in sliced potatoes and baked in the oven,’ Beth dismissed lightly, still without turning.
‘Sounds good. It smells good, too,’ Nick murmured appreciatively.
As expected, Beth had spent an enjoyable couple of hours keeping Bekka entertained. The two of them had played draughts and then a few easy card games, and she and the three cats and Paddy the dog had become firm friends. But for all of that time Beth had been aware that Nick would be returning home soon. And not quite sure how she should behave towards him when he did.
It was the thought of having to sit down and eat dinner with Nick that was making Beth feel so nervous. Of course once she had put the food into the oven there was absolutely no reason why she actually had to stay and eat it with them.
That was obviously her way out of this; she would finish preparing the tumbet and put it in the oven, advise Nick on how long to leave it there, and then she would organise another taxi to take her home.
Beth turned, with the intention of telling Nick exactly that, only to draw sharply back against the kitchen unit as she realised just how close he was to her.
So close Beth could smell the elusively expensive aftershave he favoured.
So close she could see the darker ring of grey that encircled the iris of his eyes as she looked up at him.
So close that, once she had quickly glanced away and down from that compelling gaze, she could see the pulse throbbing in his throat.
Could feel her own pulse beating to that same erratic rhythm…
Chapter Seven
BETH forced a calmly relaxed expression on her face as she looked up at Nick. ‘I’m going to arrange for a taxi to come and take me home in fifteen minutes.’
‘Why?’ Nick frowned his displeasure.
‘I—because there aren’t any buses from this area to my apartment,’ she stated lightly.
‘Take it from me, Beks, it’s a bad sign when the chef won’t stay long enough to eat her own food,’ Nick told his daughter teasingly.
‘Not at all,’ Beth answered. ‘But, as I told you earlier, I do have a life of my own.’
Nick remembered everything this particular woman had ever said to him. And he was also becoming aware of the subtlety of all her moods—and her driving need at this particular moment was