He nodded curtly, as if he already regretted the impulse. ‘I’m sure dinner should be ready by now.’ He strode out of the room to find out why it obviously wasn’t.
‘That must be a first,’ Christi murmured a little dazedly.
Dizzy frowned at her, her thoughts miles away from the coldness of this room—well, at least two miles away! ‘What must?’ she prompted with slight impatience.
‘Didn’t you notice?’ Christi mused. ‘He actually seemed—self-conscious, not at all like his usual arrogant self.’
Arrogant? The professor? She didn’t believe it! ‘I think you’ve just got used to a lack of parental influence, love,’ she teased. ‘Besides the fact that your uncle obviously disapproves of me—as you’ve meant him to do—he’s been perfectly polite.’
‘I’ve got used to a lack of parental influence?’ Christi returned indignantly. ‘What about you and your—’
‘Let’s leave my parents out of this, shall we?’ cut in Dizzy warningly.
‘Sorry.’ Her friend looked shame-faced. ‘I think you’re right, the strain of all this is getting to me. But, you know,’ she frowned, ‘it gave me a whole new perspective of my uncle when he asked you to call him Zach,’ she admitted ruefully.
Dizzy gave her an indulgent smile. ‘What did you expect me to call him, “Uncle Zach”?’
Christi smiled, shaking her head. ‘I’ve just never thought of him as just Zach before,’ she shrugged.
‘Hm,’ she conceded wryly. ‘But he must obviously be your father’s younger brother?’
Christi nodded. ‘By ten years. I know he looks—and acts—years older, but he’s only thirty-five,’ she grimaced.
Maybe as Professor Bennett he did look older than that, but as her ‘Greek god’ he looked much younger! And as time was passing Dizzy was having more and more difficulty separating the two.
‘—would have that effect on you,’ Christi was saying sadly.
‘Sorry?’ she prompted, sure from Christi’s expression that she had missed something important.
Christi gave her a reproving look for her lack of attention. ‘I said, I suppose a love affair that ended unhappily would have that effect on you,’ she repeated patiently. ‘Although it happened so long ago, I’m sure he has to be over it by now,’ she frowned.
‘It?’ Dizzy asked with casual uninterest.
‘My uncle’s fiancée died—oh, almost eleven years ago now,’ her friend explained thoughtfully. ‘It was such a shame, she was so nice. I remember she used to make clothes for my favourite doll of the time,’ she murmured fondly.
‘Mercenary little baggage, aren’t you?’ Dizzy teased drily, all the time her thoughts on Zachariah Bennett’s tragic loss. Eleven years ago, and from what Christi had said there hadn’t been another serious relationship since; he must have loved his fiancée very much. It just confirmed her belief that loving people hurt too much, took too much, while seeming to give nothing back.
‘I didn’t mean she was nice because of that,’ Christi retorted indignantly, relaxing with a rueful smile as she saw Dizzy’s teasing expression. ‘I only used the example of the doll’s clothes to show you how nice she was, how she even had time for the objectionable brat I was at the time… Some people might say I haven’t changed all that much,’ she added ruefully, as Dizzy looked even more amused.
‘Really?’ Dizzy returned innocently.
Christi grinned. ‘I can’t imagine how you’ve been able to stand me the last twelve years!’
‘It hasn’t been easy.’ She gave a heavily affected sigh.
‘But you’ve muddled through,’ Christi derided.
‘Someone had to take pity on you and be your friend.’ Dizzy sounded as if she had the weight of responsibility on her shoulders.
Christi grimaced at her sacrificial expression. ‘There hasn’t been a day gone by during those years when I haven’t been grateful that you were the one to do that,’ she told her seriously. ‘Sometimes I don’t know what I would have done without you.’
Dizzy squeezed her shoulder, knowing the death of Christi’s parents three years ago had been a terrible shock to her, that without the support and love of her friends at that time Christi might have broken down completely. Christi had gone to stay with her uncle for a few weeks after the accident, but the real shock hadn’t seemed to set in until she had been back in London for several weeks. And then it had been up to her friends to rally round, Dizzy most of all, to make sure that she didn’t fall apart. If anything, the tragedy had brought the two girls even closer together, Dizzy having looked up to Christi’s parents more than she did her own.
‘It was mutual,’ Dizzy said huskily, thinking of all the times Christi had helped her when she had been upset or alone. ‘Although,’ she added briskly, ‘I think you might have made some effort to warn me about the Shermans your uncle seems so proud of.’ She looked reproving.
Christi blushed, grimacing. ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t notice them,’ she said apologetically.
Dizzy gave her a chiding look. ‘Not notice that monstrosity?’ She nodded at the huge painting of Knollsley Hall across the room.
‘It’s awful, isn’t it?’ Christi winced. ‘He has several others, too,’ she admitted reluctantly.
‘So he told me,’ she acknowledged drily. ‘Although I doubt any of them could be as ghastly as that one!’
‘Well, actually…’
‘Dinner is finally ready.’ An impatient Zachariah Bennett returned to the lounge, effectively cutting off what Christi had been about to say. ‘It appears there was some sort of panic in the kitchen,’ he apologised abruptly.
‘Anything serious?’ Christi prompted concernedly.
‘Fredericks assures me everything is under control now,’ her uncle dismissed.
Obviously he was a man who didn’t like his routine upset, and that included any delay in the serving of meals, Dizzy thought with some amusement, as they went through to the dining-room for their meal.
Everything new she learnt about this man made him all the more endearing to her. And it wasn’t an emotion she particularly welcomed.
Possibly, at the moment, she should be more concerned with Christi’s unfinished comment of, ‘Well, actually…’ concerning the Sherman paintings…
CHAPTER FOUR
‘WHAT on earth are you doing?’
Dizzy froze, wincing as she slowly withdrew from within the huge larder she had been searching through so avidly seconds earlier.
She ran her hands nervously down her thighs as she reluctantly turned to face Zachariah Bennett. Talk about being caught in the act! Here she was, raiding the larder, and she had been caught at it by none other than her host.
The first thing she noticed, as she looked across the brightly lit kitchen at him, was that he bought his pyjamas from the same chain-store she did, for their blue and white striped pyjamas were matching pairs!
She laughed, she just couldn’t help it. ‘Snap!’ she managed to murmur before laughing again.
Zach wore a blue woollen robe over his pyjamas, neatly tied at his waist, although the rest of his appearance wasn’t quite as neat: his hair falling across his forehead in soft curls, his glasses missing altogether. Obviously he had left his bedroom in rather a hurry.
Probably hoping to catch a burglar, Dizzy acknowledged ruefully, sobering as she realised he didn’t look too pleased about having had his sleep interrupted.
‘I was—er—I fancied a midnight snack.’ She lamely explained her presence in the kitchen.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘It’s one-thirty in the morning,’ he said drily.
Without his glasses, the full impact of those honey-coloured eyes was inescapable; Dizzy was completely lost in their depths at first glance.
‘Dizzy?’ He frowned at her lack of response to his comment.
She blinked, momentarily breaking the spell. ‘I—I fancied a one-thirty-in-the-morning snack,’ she said, giving a rueful shrug.
; ‘Didn’t you have enough to eat at dinner time?’ He arched blond brows.
‘Oh, yes,’ she nodded. ‘I just—I always get hungry this time of night,’ she grimaced.
‘I see,’ he sighed, relaxing slightly. ‘Well, what were you looking for? Perhaps I could help you,’ he offered, in the way of a man who just wanted to get this over with so that he could go back to bed.
It wasn’t very complimentary to her, Dizzy acknowledged ruefully. OK, so the striped pyjamas weren’t the sexiest nightwear in the world, but they were all she was wearing; there should have at least been a spark of sexual awareness in those golden eyes. Instead, Zach was looking at her much the same as the teachers had at boarding-school when they caught the boarders having a tuck-party in their dormitory after lights-out!
‘Pilchards,’ she sighed, for the first time wishing to see those instant thoughts of bed that came into a man’s eyes when they looked at her—and not with sleep in mind, either! She had been plagued by her ‘bedroom’ body all her adult life, and now, when she somehow wanted Zach to notice her, he couldn’t see past the schoolgirl acquaintance of his niece!
His eyes widened. ‘I beg your pardon?’
She smiled at his complete lack of comprehension. ‘It’s a fish,’ she provided lightly. ‘Belonging to the herring family. A bit like a large sardine,’ she added as he still looked unimpressed. ‘They come in tins, in either tomato sauce or oil,’ she explained further.
He still didn’t look impressed. ‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded frantically.
Zach crossed his arms across his chest. ‘And you expected to find some of them in my larder?’ he prompted patiently.
‘I—well—I thought everyone had pilchards in their kitchen store-cupboard,’ she said lamely, guessing by his deadpan expression that the fish had never had a place in his store-cupboard! ‘Maybe some sardines, then,’ she suggested hopefully.
She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, or if she really did see a glimmer of amusement in the golden depths. And then it had disappeared completely, his expression even more fierce than before.
‘You aren’t pregnant, are you?’ came the instant explanation for that fierceness.
Much as she loved Henry, and hated to see that soulful expression in his big brown eyes, she wished now that she had never let the little devil go to sleep on the bottom of her bed!
‘No,’ she answered irritably. ‘I just happen to like pilchards.’
‘Well, you won’t find any in here,’ Zach bit out. ‘Why don’t you try the fridge? There might be a drumstick or two in there.’
‘Anything else but pilchards keeps me awake if I eat it this time of night.’ She shook her head.
He looked as if just the thought of eating the revolting-sounding fish might keep him awake for the rest of the night! ‘I’m afraid I can’t help you.’ He stepped pointedly away from the doorway.
Dizzy hung back, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to sleep just yet. When she had finally managed to speak to Christi on her own she had been most disturbed by what her friend had to tell her. After reading for three hours—they had all gone to bed at ten-thirty—having finished the Claudia Laurence book she had been enjoying so much, she still hadn’t felt tired enough to fall asleep as she usually did after a long read. Sitting down with a tin of pilchards and a mug of hot milk usually worked if all else failed.
‘Could I—is it all right if I have some hot milk instead?’ She looked at Zach hopefully.
‘Of course,’ he agreed with barely concealed impatience. ‘Would you like me to get it for you?’
‘No, I—sorry.’ She gave an awkward grimace as an involuntary shiver racked her body. ‘The kitchen seems to have cooled down since dinner was cooked in here.’ She hastily set about pouring the milk into a saucepan to put on to heat.
‘Here.’
She turned abruptly as she felt the warmth of the woollen garment about her shoulders, blinking dark lashes over wide green eyes as she realised that the suddenness of her movement had put her and Zach into a closeness that meant their pyjama-clad bodies were only inches apart.
Zach looked taken aback by the sudden tension of the situation, and stared down at her intently, neither of them seeming capable of movement.
Dizzy had never felt so aware of a man. The V of his pyjama jacket revealed the start of the golden hair she knew covered the whole of his chest, and lower. That chest moved up and down rapidly, and she knew in that moment that he was just as aware of her as she was him, that the fusty, dusty façade of Professor Bennett had a wide crack in it.
Quite what would have happened next Dizzy didn’t like to guess, although she hoped, for the sake of her peace of mind, that they would have moved apart as they were doing now, she to snatch the saucepan of milk from the top of the cooker as it began to boil over, Zach to stand across the room from her.
Her hand shook slightly as she poured the hot milk into a mug, the robe about her shoulders slipping to the floor as she reached out to put water in the used saucepan. She tensed as she heard the pad of Zach’s slipper-clad feet on the tiled floor; still facing the sink, she felt his presence behind her.
‘Turn around,’ he instructed gruffly.
She drew in a ragged breath as she reluctantly did as he asked, finding him standing in front of her, holding out the robe for her to put her arms into.
‘You need it more than I do,’ he prompted as she hesitated. ‘There isn’t too much of you to keep you warm,’ he added derisively, as she slipped her arms into the too-big robe.
Obviously he considered her nomadic life-style didn’t provide enough food for her to get fat. He probably thought she had been raiding his larder for the same reason! After an evening of feeling as if he must consider her a charity case, she wasn’t in the mood for further reminding of the role she was supposed to be playing!
‘I’m not small all over,’ she pointed out with deliberate provocation.
Zach faltered only slightly in the act of turning up the too-long sleeves, looking up into her face reprovingly, although Dizzy noticed his gaze didn’t return immediately to the sleeve he was working on after leaving her face, but lingered on the suddenly uneven rise and fall of her breasts.
‘There.’ He stepped back with some relief once he had completed the task. ‘You look like a child trying to appear older by dressing up in an adult’s clothes,’ he murmured, this time the amusement in his eyes completely obvious.
Her eyes flashed at the condescension of unmistakable maturity. ‘Does anything you’ve heard about me lead you to believe I’m still a child, in any way?’ she challenged.
He stiffened, his expression suddenly harsh.
‘Oh, look, I’m sorry.’ Dizzy gave a weary sigh. ‘It’s been a long day, and I’m feeling a little disgruntled because I can’t seem to get to sleep.’
‘Possibly it’s the unusual occurrence of sleeping alone that’s causing the disturbance,’ he told her frostily.
If he didn’t so obviously mean every word he was saying, it might have been funny: she was the original virgin, hadn’t even been kissed properly in her twenty-one years. Although she had a feeling she might have come close to it a few minutes ago!
It was because she knew how close she had come to being bent to the will of another person that her reply was made so caustically. ‘You’re probably right,’ she snapped. ‘Perhaps you would like to offer to rectify that?’ Her chin rose challengingly.
His mouth twisted. ‘I don’t believe so, thank you,’ he said with obvious distaste.
‘Why not?’ she taunted. ‘Aren’t I good enough for you?’
‘I’m sure you’re very good,’ he drawled contemptuously. ‘Fortunately,’ he stressed the word, ‘I’m not attracted to over-experienced children! Your milk is cooling,’ he added coldly. ‘I’m sure I can leave you alone to enjoy it.’
‘Aren’t you frightened I might steal the family silver, a painting or two, and just sneak off into the
night?’ she mocked hardly.
He drew in an angry breath. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’ she derided.
He shrugged. ‘The silver—what there is of it—is locked away, and the paintings are all wired to an alarm.’
Dizzy’s mouth twisted. ‘I might have known it wasn’t a question of trusting me!’
Zach gave a weary sigh. ‘How long have you had that chip on your shoulder?’
‘I think I was probably born with it,’ she said ruefully, knowing that she did have a defensive shield that usually kept the world out. Except that this man had been able to get under her guard. One moment she didn’t mind that he had, even welcomed it, and the next moment she wanted her shield back in place again. She wasn’t used to these feelings of insecurity, not any more.
He shook his head. ‘I’m sure there’s a wealth of conversation to be made from that comment, unfortunately it’s too late—or early, depending on your point of view,’ he said drily, ‘to go into right now. Don’t forget to turn the lights off before you go back to bed,’ he advised briskly.
‘Your robe.’ Dizzy stopped him at the door.
‘You can return it tomorrow,’ he dismissed abruptly. ‘Maybe you would also like to go into town and get in a store of—pilchards—’ he named the fish as if he even found saying them difficult! ‘—as you seem to be addicted to them,’ he added derisively.
She looked at him with innocently wide eyes. ‘What will I do for money?’
He sighed, as if he had half been expecting that question. ‘I have an account at one of the stores in town. Just tell them it’s for the Castle Haven, and it will be OK.’
‘You’re so kind,’ she mocked softly.
‘As I told you earlier today,’ he rasped coldly. ‘It can sometimes be kinder to be cruel.’
Dizzy sat down shakily once he had abruptly left the room, knowing that this round had definitely gone to Zach. She had allowed temper and resentment to overrule good sense, her defences going into overdrive as she realised how close she had come to allowing an emotion other than friendship into her life. But at least she had managed to so disgust Zach that the closeness wasn’t likely to happen again.
One Chance at Love Page 5