One Chance At Love

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 (#ud06fda3a-5727-54de-beab-27143ff19384)

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.

‘And as, for the moment, this is my niece’s home,’ he continued, ‘may I also extend an invitation for you to stay with us,’ he added grudgingly. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, Christi, Miss—–’

‘James,’ she supplied, realising, as he hesitated, that Christi hadn’t told him everything about her. Her expression was bland as she sensed her friend’s sharp gaze upon her. ‘Dizzy James,’ she enlarged.

‘Miss James,’ he nodded dismissively, puffing distractedly on the pipe, now that he had finally managed to get it lit. ‘I’ll leave you two to get re-acquainted, while I go and change.’ He nodded, as if satisfied with his decision.

‘Uncle Zach has been out bird-watching,’ Christi explained indulgently.

Something suddenly seemed to be stuck in Dizzy’s throat. She coughed chokingly, tears streamed down her cheeks, for the air couldn’t reach her lungs. Bird-watching? Any birds that had been in Zachariah Bennett’s vicinity half an hour ago had been watching him, curious of the unusual antics of the human in their midst!

‘It’s all right. I’m all right,’ she gasped when she could finally find the strength to speak, firmly discouraging Christi from administering any more of the hearty slaps to the back she had been giving her since she first began to choke. ‘Really, Christi, I’m fine.’ She held up her hands defensively as her friend still looked undecided about administering one more slap for luck.

‘The mention of ornithology seemed to have a strange effect on you?’ Zachariah Bennett raised dark blond brows questioningly, once Dizzy was calm.

She kept her expression deliberately bland as she looked up at him. ‘Not at all, Professor Bennett. In fact, the reason I was slightly later in arriving than I had said I would be was because I became interested in watching a bird myself.’ A golden eagle, she decided.

The honey-brown gaze sharpened. ‘Really?’ he prompted harshly.

Still he didn’t invite her to use the familiarity of his first name but, as he now seemed to think she had only said she had been bird-watching as a means of insinuating herself into his good graces, perhaps that was understandable! The sooner she and Christi had a private word the better.

‘Oh yes,’ she nodded. ‘Christi will tell you, I’m very much into bird-watching.’

Christi gave her a glaring look. ‘I really don’t know your likes and dislikes that well, Dizzy,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘It must be—how many years, since we last met?’

Dizzy gave her friend a reproachful frown. For all his absently distracted ways, she knew the professor to be a very intelligent man, and she and Christi were going to need to be very much on their guard to keep up the pretence Christi was getting them into more and more by the minute.

‘I really can’t remember,’ she muttered warningly. ‘But I’m sure it can’t be that long ago.’

Christi gave an affected laugh. ‘Dizzy seems to have moved around so much since we left school that she’s forgotten time altogether,’ she confided lightly to her uncle. ‘Come on, Dizzy.’ Her smile lacked warmth as she turned to her, her expression purposeful. ‘I’ll show you up to the room you’re to use during your stay.’

Her friend’s grip on her arm was only just short of vicelike, and Dizzy winced slightly, while trying to give the professor a reassuring smile. ‘I do appreciate your kind invitation.’

He gave her a look which clearly indicated that if it had been left to him she would have been looking for the park bench, nodding curtly before moving agilely up the wide stone stairway.

Dizzy instantly turned to Christi as she pulled her towards the stairs. ‘What do you—–’

‘Ssh,’ her friend warned, looking frantically about them to see if they could be overheard. ‘We can talk when we get to your room,’ she muttered.

‘But—–’

‘Dizzy, I am not in the mood to be argued with!’ Her voice rose shrilly.

She did sound more than a little strained—and she was probably going to be even more so once Dizzy told her she didn’t think this plan of hers could possibly work.

If only she could have spoken to Christi when she’d called earlier, or at least before she’d had to meet the uncle! The way things stood at the moment, she had no choice but to continue with the plan Christi had started before she’d arrived. Unfortunately, it was a plan she felt was doomed to failure, although Christi didn’t agree with her.

They had strolled up the stairway together, Dizzy having assured Fredericks, when he quietly appeared back in the entrance hall, that she could manage her own shoulder-bag and backpack. She smiled, as if she hadn’t seen his scandalised look that that was all of her luggage.

Christi gave her a running commentary as they went. ‘Only the east wing has been renovated for habitation so far,’ she pointed out, then explained why the rest of the castle was closed off to them. ‘Uncle Zach has the work done as he gets the money. He must get paid very well to have the work done at all,’ she added in a whispered aside. ‘But what he’s had done so far is lovely,’ she continued in her normal voice.

For her uncle’s benefit, Dizzy acknowledged wryly. There wasn’t an angle possible that Christi wasn’t playing, and it was all so unnecessary, when just being herself would probably have made the best impression.

The renovation that had so far been done to the castle was very impressive, and looked very much as it must have when it was first built in the fifteenth century. Dizzy realised it also had some of the discomfort that must have gone with it at that time, as she gave an involuntary shiver from the cold. Obviously Zachariah Bennett had gone for complete authenticity, omitting the central heating that might have made the castle more appealing. She could only hope that authenticity hadn’t gone as far as the plumbing; carrying buckets of water up the stairs for her bath didn’t exactly appeal to her!

‘I’ve given you the bedroom next to mine.’ Christi threw open the heavy oak door.