Even so, it was unfortunate that Nik’s former inability to grant her much of his personal time should have reminded Betsy of her years in foster care, when she had never been anyone’s priority and her needs had been more often a second thought rather than a first. Nik had left her isolated at Lavender Hall, much as she had been isolated in a series of foster homes without close connections to the other inhabitants or loving carers. In those days, she had wondered if she was inherently unlovable.
They walked into a cool white hall, decorated with lush plants, to be greeted by a pleasant middle-aged housekeeper called Stephania. At the foot of the winding elegant staircase, Nik bent and lifted Betsy into his arms, ignoring her protests.
‘No stairs for you,’ he pronounced drily. ‘If a dizzy spell hit you at the wrong moment you could have a nasty accident.’
‘You always think in worst-case scenarios,’ Betsy censured, amazed by the level of his pessimism while looking up at him to marvel at the length and lushness of his eyelashes, amused that she had to wear falsies to get even a hint of such luxuriance. It was wasted on him too, she thought abstractedly, for he was the least vain man she knew.
‘No, I’m taking sensible precautions for your benefit,’ Nik countered, reaching the wide decorative landing without an iota of breathlessness. But then in the wake of the doctor’s comments, Betsy didn’t think that carrying her could offer a well-built male much of a challenge.
The bedroom was a huge, dreamy space furnished with pale oak furniture, natural stone walls and draperies fluttering lightly at the open windows. Nik rested her down on a wide, sumptuously dressed bed.
Betsy rested her head approvingly back on a crisp white linen pillow. ‘This place reminds me of a five-star boutique hotel.’
Nik slipped off her shoes and a knock sounded on the door to herald the entrance of a maid with a tray. Betsy sat up against the banked pillows while Nik collected the tray. He handed her a fork and sat down on the side of the bed. ‘Eat before you sleep,’ he urged.
It was a chicken casserole and very good but his reference to sleep had roused her interest. ‘I was just wondering,’ Betsy began abruptly, putting curiosity ahead of tact when it came to what had once been a touchy subject. ‘Do you still suffer from the nightmares you used to get?’
Before her very eyes, Nik stiffened defensively, his bright eyes immediately veiling. ‘No. It seems that was just a phase. I was working too hard last year, not allowing myself enough downtime to chill,’ he parried with resolute cool.
‘You never would tell me what the nightmares were about,’ Betsy could not resist reminding him.
Nik shrugged a broad shoulder with careful unconcern. ‘Telling you about them would have given them undue importance and lodged them in my mind even deeper,’ he proffered in explanation. ‘I have always preferred not to dwell on negative events.’
He had removed his jacket and tie. Lean muscles flexed beneath his silk shirt as he reached for the tray when she finished eating and set it aside. He closed his hand over hers. ‘Now, you go to sleep.’
While she studied him with wondering blue eyes, his thumb caressed the soft inner skin of her wrist in a soothing motion and he lifted her hand, spread her fingers and pressed a kiss to her palm.
Her heart thumped in the smouldering silence, gooseflesh erupting on her exposed skin, tiny hairs rising at the nape of her neck while low in her pelvis she felt the sweet, all-pervasive tug of the hunger that only he could stir. Her breath shortened in her throat as she stared back at him. It was no use, his gut-wrenching sensuality plundered her defences like an invading army. That fast she wanted his mouth, wanted his hands on her body...and a great deal more. Colour blooming in her cheeks, she felt her nipples strain and push against the bodice of her dress while her thighs pressed together to ease the ache he had induced at the heart of her.