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OK, OK, don't labour the point. 'I've enough for two if you'd like to stay,' she said shortly, her tone less than enthu¬siastic—to put it mildly.
Travis didn't appear to notice. 'Really? Great, I'd love to. If you're sure.' Black eyebrows quirked as he smiled.
Wretched man. Beth ignored the effect the devastating smile had on her insides, saying, 'It's a big cramped inside and there's no dining table, I'm afraid. You'll have to manage with a tray on your lap.' There was the little breakfast bar and that was where she usually ate, seated on one of the two stools the cottage boasted, but the tininess of the space would mean she'd be shoulder to shoulder with Travis and that was out of the question. She wouldn't be able to eat a thing.
'A tray is no problem,' he said easily.
A tray might not be, he most certainly was. As Travis went to stand up, Beth said hastily, 'No, you sit where you are and I'll call you when it's ready. The cottage is so tiny...' She took his glass. 'I'll bring you out another glass of wine.'
'Thanks.' He slanted a look at her under half closed lids, his voice still suspiciously acquiescent when he said, 'Sure I can't help? I feel guilty landing on you like this.'
You've done quite enough already. 'No, it's fine. I won't be a minute.' She smiled briskly and marched away.
Once inside the cottage, Beth stared down at Harvey who had followed her in. How on earth had she come to find herself in this position? One moment it had been just her and Harvey sitting in peaceful tranquillity and enjoying the summer evening. The next... She poured Travis another glass of wine and took it out to him before he took it into his head to ignore what she had said and follow her inside.
He was sitting with his legs outstretched and his eyes shut, his face lifted to the dying sunlight. He looked big and hard and as sexy as hell, and as she stared at him something like a bolt of electricity shot down to her toes, making them curl. She had to swallow twice before she could mutter, 'Here's your wine,' and she made very sure their hands didn't touch as she passed him the glass.
After scuttling back into the cottage, Beth stood for a moment at the kitchen sink with one hand pressed against her galloping heart. This was stupid. She had to get a grip. She shut her eyes tight and then opened them again, gazing blankly across the room.
After a moment or two she forced herself to start setting two trays with cutlery and napkins, annoyed to see her hands were trembling slightly. She breathed in and out deeply a few times, her mind racing. OK, so she was sexually attracted to Travis—she admitted it. She sighed with relief. She had been trying to fight the reality for the last three weeks and it wasn't the way to handle this. She had to be honest with herself.
She lifted the steaming casserole out of the oven and on to the small steel shelf at the side of the hob.
She was a grown woman of thirty years of age, she told herself. Not a simpering schoolgirl in the midst of a first crush. Sexual attraction was the same the world over and it didn't mean a thing if you brought your will to bear. Mind over matter, simple. She was not about to get involved in a casual relationship with any man—Prince Charming himself could walk in here and she wouldn't be tempted.
She had believed in Keith, utterly and totally, and if she could get it so monumentally wrong once there was no guarantee she couldn't do so again. And she wasn't prepared to take such a risk. That left the sensible option. If she didn't let herself become vulnerable then she couldn't be hurt. And the way not to be vulnerable was not to get close to a man.
She reached for the dish of thinly sliced layered potatoes on the second shelf of the oven and they sizzled at her, the butter and seasoning she'd sprinkled over them pleasantly aromatic. For once everything looked delicious.
She had several friends who could handle one-night stands and relationships with no strings attached perfectly well, but she knew she wasn't made that way. She'd had lots of other boyfriends, one or two quite serious, before Keith, but she had never fully committed in a physical sense because that certain undefinable something had been missing. Keith was the first man she had been to bed with and it looked as if he might be the last. She grimaced and began ladling the casserole on to the oven-warmed plates, swiftly followed by the golden-brown potatoes. But better that than being taken for a mug again.
'I must be able to do something?'
As the deep rich voice from the doorway startled her, Beth almost dropped the dish of potatoes. Nerving herself, she glanced at Travis. It was the best bit of acting she had done for some time when she shrugged nonchalantly, her voice airy as she said, 'No, it's all under control. Go and sit down and I'll bring the trays through in a moment or two.'
