Dizzy looked down guiltily to the foot of the bed, where the Yorkshire terrier was curled up, asleep, on the quilt. ‘He gets lonely in the kitchen at night,’ she defended. ‘And he has such soulful brown eyes that I don’t have the heart to say no to him.’
‘A pair of soulful brown eyes and loneliness are not reasons to take him into bed with you! He—Oh, damn, I think I heard someone coming.’ Christi lapsed back into that desperate whispering. ‘I’ll see you later, OK?’ she urged frantically, sounding more and more like a hounded animal.
The impression didn’t in the least endear the idea of going up to the Lake District to Dizzy, to show herself off as some lost cause just so that Zachariah Bennett could say to Christi, ‘Thank God you didn’t turn out like her, here’s your money and welcome to it’!
If it really were going to be as easy as that…
* * *
Dizzy had heard much about the beauty of the Lake District, and as her travels usually took her out of the country, rather than around it, this was the first time she had ever seen this lovely part of England.
But nothing she had heard about the Lake District had prepared her for the scenery before her now. No one had told her she could expect to see naked men, one naked man in particular, as he cavorted about in one of the smaller lakes!
As Christi had said, the man in the flat next door to hers had been only too happy to pet-sit Gladys, Josephine and Henry, and so the only hitch there could have been to her setting off for Castle Haven had neatly been removed.
In the clear light of day—after several more hours’ sleep—Dizzy was less sure than ever that Christi’s plan was a good one. It might work if Zachariah Bennett—the old curmudgeon!—could be made to believe she and Christi were just acquaintances, but the two of them had been friends since their first term together at boarding-school over twelve years ago. The familiarity of a friendship like that might be a little difficult to disguise. A telephone call to Christi to tell her just that had elicited the information that her friend had gone out for the morning with her uncle, and so, not knowing what else to do, Dizzy had set out for the castle. They would just have to hope for the best when she got there.
It had been a pleasant trip up on the train. She might be a free spirit, she thought, but she wasn’t stupid—it was no longer safe to hitch-hike, if it ever had been! Enquiries at the station, when she got off the train, had told her that the castle was about eight miles away and, after the long train journey, stretching her legs for a few miles sounded like a good idea.
The first six miles of her walk had been really enjoyable—the view of this lake was even more so!
She sat on top of one of the hills that surrounded the lake on all sides, unashamedly watching the sleek-bodied man as he cavorted about in the water like a dolphin. Even water-slicked, his hair was discernible as dark blond, with blond highlights that any woman would envy, but which were obviously perfectly natural on this man. From the deep tan of his body, he swam naked like this often. Old Zachariah Bennett would probably have a seizure if he could see the guest, who was going to soon turn up unexpectedly on his doorstep, watching the antics of this naked man. And enjoying it, too!
He really was a very handsome specimen, she thought admiringly as he stepped out of the water to dry off in the sun. He was tall and lithe, and from the look of him he either cut down trees or built roads for a living, for his muscles had been rippling powerfully. Or else he was just a secret weight-lifter. Whatever he was, a fusty scholar like Zachariah Bennett would probably recoil in horror at such virility: the man’s shoulders wide and strong, golden hair glinting on his bronzed chest, his stomach taut and flat, and his hips and thighs… Apollo himself couldn’t have looked better!
Dizzy reluctantly drew herself away from the beauty of the scene as the man stretched out in the sun to dry some more. No doubt he wouldn’t mind at all that she had been admiring him—he wouldn’t have been swimming in a lake where anyone could come along and see him if he did—but she really did have to be getting along to the castle now. It was a pity to spoil the moment, but time was quickly passing, and Christi’s thoughts were probably on the unmarked grave again by now!
But she didn’t forget the man as she walked the last two miles, whistling happily to herself, the day suddenly seeming full of new possibilities. Maybe the man was a local, maybe Christi would know who he was … But, of course, her friend had said she hadn’t met anyone else in the area. What a shame; it might have been interesting meeting the Greek god. It might have helped her irresponsible image along a little more, too, if she could have brought the local womaniser back to the castle to meet the professor.
Not that her image needed any help, she acknowledged ruefully as she glanced down at herself. Her denims were old and patched at the knees, the material faded in the usual places, her T-shirt just as old, but out of shape after numerous washes. She put a self-conscious hand up to the blonde bubbly curls that had escaped the long plait down her spine and that had helped give her her name, framing her small, heart-shaped face that was dominated by green, catlike eyes. Small, just over five feet, with breasts that were slightly too large for her body, and her fly-away blonde hair, she was the perfect ‘dizzy blonde’ image. No doubt she would be Zachariah Bennett’s most unusual house—castle—guest, to date!
Castle Haven proved to be exactly what Christi had claimed it was, a huge turreted castle that seemed totally out of place among the placid lakes and tree-covered hills and mountains that surrounded it on all sides.
Unlike Christi, however, Dizzy found the castle fascinating, and longed to know its history. But she supposed that would never do, not when she was supposed to be showing Zachariah Bennett just how wayward and uncaring the youth of today could be, and, in the process, what a shining example of responsibility his niece was. It would never do to let old Zach know she was probably as interested in history as he was!
The castle was a fitting home for him, as a historian of some repute—Dizzy knew him mainly from his books—and as she drew nearer Dizzy could see that on the outside, at least, it had been maintained in beautiful condition. Writing history books must pay very well! she thought.
The butler who opened the door several minutes after she had pulled the bell—hoping it was ringing somewhere in the depths of the castle—looked as if he might have been here doing this very same thing since the castle had originally been built! Snowy-haired, with an aloofness that was felt rather than physically visible in his thin body and blandly expressionless face, his disapproval of the ‘person’ standing at the huge heavy oak door he had swung open was a tangible thing. Maybe he was old Zachariah himself; probably what he earned as a historian didn’t run to a butler as well as a castle!
‘Hi!’ She gave him her brightest smile, easing her backpack on to one shoulder. ‘My name’s Dizzy James, and I—’
‘The castle is not open to the public, Miss James,’ he informed her frostily.
She had been going to say ‘I’m a friend of Christi’s’, but his condescending attitude brought out the devil in her. ‘What a pity,’ she drawled. ‘I’m sure you would get thousands of people wanting to tramp all over the place if you decided to change your mind.’ She looked up at him innocently as he stiffened in shock at the suggestion.
His raised eyebrows and pursed lips showed his distaste. ‘Let me give you directions back to the main road,’ he said coldly. ‘You go back the way you just came, and then—’
‘Oh, but I don’t want to go back to the main road!’ She smiled at him, her eyes gleaming like a cat’s.
‘This is private property, Miss James, and—’
‘But I’m here to see Christi Bennett,’ she informed him happily.
‘Miss Christi?’ This time his guard was completely down, due to severe shock and horrified disbelief that ‘Miss Christi’ could even know such a person!
Obviously, he was the family butler, after all, and as she had only come here to shock Zachariah Bennett,
not upset the whole household, she gave the man in front of her her most engaging smile. It had been known to melt frostier hearts than his, although not always, and never when she really willed it to. This time she was partially successful, although only grudgingly, as the butler slowly opened the door for her to come inside.
He nodded to her to wait where she stood, just inside the huge reception area. ‘I’ll go and tell Miss Christi that you’re here—’
‘That won’t be necessary, Fredericks.’ Christi came bounding down the wide stairway like a whirlwind, her face flushed with excitement—the first she had known for some time, by the look of the shadows beneath her usually sparkling blue eyes. ‘Dizzy!’ she greeted thankfully, clasping her hands in hers before hugging her tightly.
She allowed Christi the indulgence for several seconds, realising her friend was under severe strain. But all the time she was aware of Fredericks as he watched them with distant curiosity, and so she finally whispered to Christi, ‘Acquaintances, remember?’
Christi stiffened at the reminder, her arms falling back to her sides as she stepped back reluctantly, forcing indifference into her expression. ‘That will be all, thank you, Fredericks,’ she said, turning to the butler. ‘Dizzy, how nice to see you again!’ Her words were the insincerely polite ones of a host having an unwanted guest foisted upon them, although her eyes were dancing with mischief as she looked at Dizzy.
Easily one of the most beautiful women Dizzy had ever seen, with glorious ebony hair and huge blue eyes, and a model-girl figure, Christi wasn’t in the least conceited about her looks, but felt them merely to be her stock-in-trade for the career she had chosen for herself. She had even been warned that being too beautiful could hinder her career, rather than help it, if she was serious about becoming an actress of any repute.
The two women stood grinning at each other once they were alone in the high-ceilinged entrance hall, their breathing echoing hollowly against the grey stone.
‘I thought you weren’t coming.’ Christi finally sighed her relief that she had been proved wrong.
Dizzy’s smile widened. ‘I needed a little time to wake up,’ she teased, reminding her friend of the earliness of her call. ‘Besides, how could I let down the person who probably stopped me being put in jail—at least overnight?’ she mocked, thinking of her friend’s efforts of bribery and corruption.
Christi looked embarrassed. ‘I only—’
‘What’s going on here?’
Dizzy didn’t need the confirmation of her friend’s suddenly guiltily apprehensive expression to guess that the man who had silently entered the hall through another door was fusty, dusty Zachariah Bennett. He spoke quietly, but nevertheless with a complete assurance that he was entitled to the explanation he demanded. If he had come in on the conversation soon enough to overhear her reference to almost being put in jail, then that wasn’t so surprising!
‘Uncle Zach.’ Christi quickly regained control, crossing to the man as he stood slightly in the shadows beneath the stairway, the door he had used just behind him, probably belonging to the kitchen or cellar, Dizzy thought. ‘I asked you if an old school acquaintance of mine could come to stay,’ Christi reminded lightly.
Dizzy turned to look at her; she had told her uncle of her visit? What had happened to the ‘old acquaintance’ who had just happened to be ‘drifting’ through, had ‘heard Christi was in the area and decided to pay her a call’?
Christi had changed the story without warning her! But she wasn’t able to dwell on that, as Zachariah Bennett at last stepped out of the shadows.
Baggy, and definitely untailored corduroys, a cream shirt that looked more than a little creased beneath the too-large tweed jacket, were exactly the sort of attire she had expected the bookishly austere Professor Zachariah Bennett to wear. But, as her wincing gaze rose, and she saw the gold-streaked blond hair, she knew that the ill-fitting clothing covered the magnificent body of the Greek god she had watched as he had swum naked not half an hour ago!
CHAPTER TWO
COULD this man have a twin brother, a man who looked exactly as he did, but who was the type to go skinny-dipping? That could be the only possible explanation for Zachariah Bennett having the same curiously light brown hair beneath gold that her Greek god had possessed. But Christi had told her numerous times that her uncle Zachariah was her only living relative, so that couldn’t be the answer to the similarity. And Dizzy refused to believe there was another man in the area with the same beautiful-coloured hair. Which only left the one possibility she had started with: Zachariah Bennett was her naked Greek god.
Who would have believed that such a magnificent body lay beneath those hopelessly shapeless clothes? Obviously not Christi, or she wouldn’t have called her uncle ‘fusty and dusty’. Or maybe she would. Somehow, Christi had given her the impression that her uncle was an elderly man, but the mid-thirties this man must be wasn’t that, either. At least, it didn’t seem so to Dizzy. Maybe, to Christi, he just seemed old because he was her uncle. Whatever the reason, Dizzy knew that no man with a body like this one had, powerfully muscled and so blatantly male, could ever be fusty or dusty!
To give Christi her due, she had never seen him like that, and the rest of his appearance—his clothed appearance, that was—didn’t hint at anything other than the impression of a professor of history. Oh, his face was handsome enough, even if it was set in austere lines right now, his jaw square and determined, with a barest hint of a cleft in the chin, his mouth a tautly drawn line, although his lips looked as if they might be sensual if he ever relaxed them enough to let them be—and Dizzy knew from her view of him earlier that he could be very relaxed when he chose to be!
Black-rimmed glasses covered his eyes, but, even so, she could see they were a beautiful light brown, looking like golden warm honey. The lovely sun-streaked hair, that had been drying in attractive curls on his forehead earlier, was now brushed severely to the side and back. He only needed a pipe to complete the picture of the professor of history that he was!
Even as the amused thought crossed her mind, she saw that his right hand was patting absently at the bulging pocket of his tweed jacket, lean fingers pulling out a well-used pipe that he clasped between strong white teeth as he began a vague hunt for his matches.
The only thing wrong with the image was that Dizzy couldn’t get the memory of the naked Greek god out of her mind!
Try as she might—and she had to admit she wasn’t trying too hard—she couldn’t forget the absolute vision of him as he stood in the sunlight, letting the warmth of the day dry him off after his swim. If she looked closely at him now she could even see a couple of damp tendrils of hair behind his ears, where the sun hadn’t touched him. And she knew she would never be able to feel in awe of him the way Christi obviously was; she could feel aware of him, yes, but never in awe of him!
But right now she had to try and fill in the gaps to Christi’s new story about her visit. Obviously she was no longer ‘drifting through’, but what was she doing here? Nothing to recommend her, if what Christi was saying was to be believed!
‘Poor dear,’ she was telling her uncle. ‘When Dizzy told me she had nowhere else to go…’ She shook her head sadly.
Dizzy winced at the obvious implication; surely Christi was laying it on a bit thick, even if it was to show ‘Uncle Zach’ how kind and responsible she was!
She felt Zachariah Bennett’s disapproving gaze on her, inwardly cringing at the role she was having to play in the name of friendship. In any other circumstances, she would have enjoyed meeting this man, would have been full of questions. Playing what was now turning out to be little better than a parasite didn’t sit well with her.
She gave Zachariah Bennett a bright, meaningless smile, not able to meet his penetrating gaze, which was probably convincing him she was shiftless, too! ‘Christi can be so kind,’ she said non-committally, still floundering in the dark a little.
Eyes, that should have been as warm to look at as
the honey they resembled, frosted over as Zachariah Bennett’s gaze raked over her with disgust. ‘Kindness is not always the wisest thing,’ he bit out coldly. ‘In fact, in some circumstances, it is better to be cruel.’
‘Oh no, Uncle Zach,’ Christi protested with wide-eyed innocence. ‘I told you, I couldn’t bear to think of Dizzy having to—well, perhaps sleep on a park bench somewhere.’ She sounded distraught at the idea.
As well she might do! What amazed Dizzy was that the possibility had even been mentioned between Christi and her uncle. She had been doing Christi the favour by pet-sitting her flat in the first place; there were plenty of other places she could have been. She had thought then that she was helping out a friend, but from the contemptuous look on the professor’s face he believed every sad word of woe which Christi was feeding him!
‘I’m sure I would have been able to find—somewhere else to go, if you hadn’t been able to take me in,’ she grated, giving Christi a warning look. Her friend was going a little too far, she felt!
‘I’m sure you would,’ Zachariah Bennett acknowledged distantly. ‘But my niece considers she should help out an old school acquaintance when she can.’
Christi was visibly preening at the praise, and Dizzy just wanted to shake her. Not only was she a drifter and a wastrel, she was supposed to be a parasite, too!
As soon as she got Christi on her own she was going to tell her exactly what she thought of this new plan of hers. She might have ‘cultivated’ her life-style, but she had never taken advantage of anyone’s kindness. And she had to admit she didn’t like Zachariah Bennett thinking that she had; even the dark-rimmed glasses didn’t hide the contempt for her in his eyes. Usually she didn’t give a damn what people thought of her, or the way she lived, but with this man she did. And she wasn’t about to analyse that too deeply.
One Chance at Love Page 2