One Chance At Love. Carole Mortimer

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      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 СКАЧАТЬ