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‘Are you awake?’ Luce asked, her voice fuzzy with sleep.
‘Yeah,’ he murmured, and she turned over in his arms to face him.
‘Has it stopped snowing?’
She was blinking up at him, her hair falling into her eyes, her face pink and sleepy, and Ben thought she looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her.
‘Don’t know.’
Wriggling out of his embrace, she wrapped the extra blanket from the bottom of the bed around her and padded to the window, ducking under the curtain to look out.
Then she swore. Ben didn’t think he’d ever heard her do that before. He hadn’t even been sure she knew such words.
Flinging the curtains open, she turned to him with an accusing glare. ‘Look at it! It’s piled up halfway to the window! We’re never going to get back to Cardiff in this!’
Shuffling into a seated position, lounging against the headboard, Ben shrugged. ‘So we spend another day here. Is that so bad?’
‘Yes!’ Luce ran a hand through her tangled hair and almost lost her grip on the blanket. ‘It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, Ben. I have to get home. Never mind the book. I’ve got to get things ready for my family. I haven’t even thought about dinner for tomorrow.’ She yanked the blanket up again, covering all but a hint of her cleavage. ‘This is all your fault.’
‘I thought we’d established that I can’t control the weather?’ Ben said mildly.
‘Maybe not. But you said it wouldn’t snow again until last night. And you didn’t tell me it would be heavy enough to drift!’
Ben winced. That much was, in fact, true. He’d known how bad the snow would be and still brought her back here, instead of taking her home. ‘I gave you a choice: the cottage or Cardiff. You chose here.’
‘Because I didn’t have all the information! You trapped me here.’
She looked so anguished Ben almost felt sorry for her. Except that she was trying to blame him for her decisions and accusing him of imaginary plots. Again. As if he hadn’t done all he could to help her for the last three days. As if what they’d shared was nothing more than an attempt to get her into bed. Well, if that was what she thought—fine. Let her believe him to be exactly the sort of man she’d always thought. She’d never believe he’d changed, anyway. So why should he change? What had he been thinking to believe for even a moment that this could be more than a one-night stand? They were as different now as they’d ever been.
‘Trapped you here?’ Ben raised his eyebrows in deliberate disbelief. ‘Why would I do that? You know my one-night rule. Trust me—I’m as ready to get back to civilisation as you are.’
He wished he could take back the words the moment he’d spoken them. Not least because he knew he’d put an end to any chance of spending another day—and night—in bed with Luce. But mostly because of the way her face froze, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, fingers wrapped in the blanket as she held it tight to her chest.
The moment lasted too long—a cold chill between them as the silence of the snow pressed in. Then Luce broke. She took a step back, towards the door, and shook her head just a little. ‘Of course. If we’re stuck here I need to work. Tell me when it clears enough for us to leave.’
She didn’t even slam the door behind her. Instead she closed it carefully, letting the latch click quietly into place. And Ben fell back down onto the bed and wished he’d never heard of Cilgerran Castle.
* * *
Luce fumbled her way into her clothes with chilly fingers, trying to convince herself that it was only the cold making her shake. But the anger still bubbling up in her chest told her different.
She was furious. With Ben, naturally, for being exactly what she’d always known he was. And she was even more angry with herself.
Dropping to sit on the bed as she yanked on thick socks over her woolly tights, Luce tried to calm down. She’d never get any work done like this.
How could she have been so stupid? She knew beyond a doubt exactly what sort of a man Ben was. Hell, he’d told her himself! His ridiculous one-night rule was a prime example. As if only spending one night together could make falling in love less likely.
Not that she was in love with Ben Hampton. Not even she was that idiotic.
She’d brought this on herself. Take responsibility. Take control. Well, she’d take the responsibility, anyway. Control seemed to be entirely out of her hands.
This was her punishment for taking what she wanted for a change—for forgetting about her obligations, about her family. Would the snow clear for them to get through? The thought of spending another night in the cottage, even in her own room, made her shiver. And what if she didn’t make it home for Christmas Eve and Tom’s dinner? Or, worse, Christmas Day itself?
