the doorbell. I expect you and Ben wereââ
âThatâs enough, Charlie; go to your room!â Rachel said quietly. The tone in her motherâs voice made the animated expression fade from her daughterâs face.
âButâ¦â
âNow!â
The expression of hurt incomprehension on Nigelâs face was making her feel like a bitchâwhich, looked at from his perspective, she was! He looked like a man whose belief in Santa Claus had been dashed.
She couldnât really lay the blame at Charlieâs door, even though she was under no illusions that there had been anything artless about those confidences. She ought to have confessed her true feelings or lack of them sooner. With the ruthlessness of the very young Charlie had seized on the opportunity to get rid of someone she disliked irrespective of the hurt she might be inflicting.
âDo you want me to stay?â
Rachel raised her eyes to Benedict who had entered the room in her wake. âI donât think so,â she said quietly. That would be rubbing salt in the wound.
âMy God!â Nigel got to his feet, an expression of incredulity contorting his regular features. âHeâs the thug with the attitudeâ¦the barrister youâre working for.â His gaze slid from Benedictâs impassive features to Rachelâs face, whichwas coloured by a guilty flush. âBlack leather and role-playingâ¦I didnât know sick games like that turned you on, Rachel.â
The contempt in his voice made her feel grubby and if possible even guiltier. âIt was just a coincidence, Nigel.â
His scornful laugh rang out. âPlease; I may not be one of lifeâs intellectual giants, but give me some credit. I donât believe in coincidences.â
What could she say? Neither had she a few days before. Rachel clasped her hands in distress. She hadnât wanted it to end like this. Why, oh, why had she let things drag on? Why, oh, why had she kissed Ben? A thousand âwhysâ rushed through her mind.
âI donât suppose you didnât want to rush things with him.â He looked at her with fastidious distaste as he caricatured her tone.
âBen and Iâweâre not⦠I mean, we havenâtâ¦â She looked to the tall, silent figure at her side for inspiration.
âYet. We havenât yet , sweetheart,â Benedict said, clarifying the point helpfully.
âThank you!â she snapped from between clenched teeth. He was probably enjoying this.
âIâm just glad I found out now, before it was too late, what sort of woman you actually are. I was prepared to make allowances for youthful indiscretion.â
Rachel stiffened at this patronising allusion to her daughter. Benedictâs arm moved lightly around her waist and she was grateful for the contact. His splayed fingertips moved over the bony prominence of her hip. The slow, sensuous, soothing movement took the edge off her anxiety. It did a lot of other things too, which, given the circumstances, said a lot about her susceptibility to this man.
âIf Iâd known your tastes ran to perversionsâ¦â
Nigelâs thin lips curled as he openly sneered at her andRachelâs temper flared. Guilt would only compel her to accept so much. Perversions indeed!
âIâm sorry if Iâve hurt you, Nigel, but thatâs just plain ridiculous and you know it! I canât marry you, Nigel. I should have told you.â
âDo you think Iâd want you ?â He gaped at her as if she were mad. âIâm just glad now that weâve never slept togetherâ¦â
That was just in case Ben had missed the previous hints, she decided, repressing a groan.
âYou and me both,â Benedict murmured softly in her ear. He tucked a strand of soft brown hair behind her ear and sent a jolt of neat, toe-curling electricity all the way to her feet.
Nigelâs eyes were