Ice In His Veins. Carole Mortimer
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halted the car outside her parents’ house. ‘Can I come in for coffee?’
Eden got out on to the sidewalk. ‘You don’t normally need to be asked.’
‘Great,’ he smiled, locking the car.
Eden moved about the kitchen preparing their coffee, the staff having finished for the day. Her mother and Drew weren’t back yet, so she and Tim had the house to themselves. Tim came into the kitchen just as she was placing the pot of coffee on the tray.
‘What are you smiling at?’ she frowned her puzzlement as he stood watching her with a silly grin on his face.
He leant back against the refrigerator, his arms folded across his chest. ‘I love to see women working in the kitchen.’
‘Chauvinist!’ She carried the tray into the lounge, sitting down to pour their coffee.
‘Not at all.’ Tim accepted a cup of the steaming liquid. ‘I’ve never seen my mother or Claire in a kitchen. I find it very comforting.’
Eden sat back, tucking her legs up beneath her. ‘I don’t suppose your mother or sister have ever found it necessary to go into the kitchen, you have more servants than family in your house.’ Despite her family not being exactly in the poverty bracket themselves, Eden had been a little overwhelmed by the unpretentious show of wealth in Tim’s parents’ home.
Mrs Channing had welcomed her with all the gracious politeness that had been bred into her, but Eden had still felt out of her depth among such opulence. The Channing house was set among the rolling acres that made up their estate. Eden had felt her first sense of apprehension as Tim drove the car down the long driveway, the security of getting into the ranch-style house quite frightening.
Tim’s mother had fitted into the luxury of her background perfectly, coming as she did from an old Southern family. The silk dress was tailored to her slim figure, her grey hair perfectly coiffured, making Eden feel quite underdressed in her fitted lemon trousers and matching shirt. Although not by the flicker of an eyelid did Mrs Channing show that she approved or disapproved of her guest’s appearance.
All in all it hadn’t been a successful visit, at least as far as Eden was concerned, and it hadn’t been something she had ever wanted to repeat, despite Tim’s constant pleading. She always had an excuse ready when he suggested they visit his parents.
It had been obvious from the first who was the driving force behind the Channing money; the mild unassuming Paul Channing certainly would not have made a success of his business without the help of his forceful but charming wife.
Tim’s mother certainly had no need to enter her kitchen unless she wanted to, the nearest she came to anything domestic being to approve the menus for the day.
Tim came to sit on the sofa beside Eden, his arm about her shoulders as he snuggled her into his side. ‘I didn’t come here to talk about my mother,’ his mouth caressed her throat. ‘How would you like to make this a permanent thing?’
Her heart began to beat erratically, then she cursed herself for jumping to conclusions. He could mean any number of things by that remark—she hoped! ‘Working in the kitchen?’ she teased.
‘No, silly,’ he chuckled. ‘Will you marry me, Eden?’ he asked seriously.
Eden moved back, her worst fears realised. ‘M-marry you?’ she gasped.
‘Will you?’ He looked anxious.
‘I—well, I—I don’t know,’ A nervous laugh caught in her throat. ‘It’s a bit sudden.’ She stood up to look down at him, wishing he hadn’t just asked her to marry him.
‘I love you,’ he said simply. ‘And I want to marry you. How do you feel about me?’
She wished she knew! Her uncertainty about her feelings was the reason she wished he hadn’t proposed. It had never occurred to her that he would ask her to marry him. She enjoyed his company, liked being with him, but marriage! She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
‘I like you,’ she began slowly. ‘I like you very much.’
‘Enough to marry me?’ he cut in eagerly.
‘I—I’m not sure.’
He stood up. ‘Then how much do you like me?’
‘A lot. But marriage—well, that’s something different. I have things I want to do before I settle down. I want to travel.’
‘We could travel together.’
Eden shook her head. ‘Not that sort of travel. I want to just take off for a couple of years, work my way round from place to place. Secretaries are always in demand.’
Tim frowned. ‘You’ve never talked about this before.’
She shrugged. ‘It wasn’t something that came up for discussion.’
‘And your parents, how do they feel about it?’
She smiled. ‘They’re of the opinion that travel broadens the mind.’
‘I see.’ He bit his lip, for once not the confident young man she was used to. ‘And just when do you propose to “take off”?’
He was angry, she knew he was angry. ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ she told him awkwardly.
‘But marriage is definitely not part of your plans?’
‘Well, not yet. I didn’t know you had marriage in mind, Tim,’ she added almost pleadingly.
His cheeks had an angry flush to them. ‘What the hell do you think the last six weeks have been about?’
‘Well, certainly not marriage.’
He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Believe me, if I didn’t have marriage in mind we would have finished long ago.’
‘Meaning?’ she challenged, aware that they were having their first argument—and probably their last, by the sound of it. And it had all started from a proposal of marriage!
‘Meaning I don’t go in for these “no touching” relationships,’ he snapped.
‘Oh, I see.’ She was angry too now. ‘Well, don’t let me keep you. I wouldn’t want to stop you being with someone who feels the way you do about sex.’ She turned away.
Tim grasped her shoulders, spinning her round to face him, ‘Hey, come on, Eden! That wasn’t what I meant and you know it. I was just trying to show you that you’re special to me.’
The tension left her body. ‘I know—and I’m sorry. But I’m tired, and your proposal was rather a surprise.’ That was an understatement if ever she heard one. ‘I need time to think about it.’
‘How much time?’ Tim demanded, the harshness back in his voice.
‘I don’t know. It’s not something you can decide on overnight.’
‘Most people can decide on it straight away,’ he snapped, her good-humoured companion of the last few weeks not in evidence at all.
‘Well, I can’t. Or perhaps I can. If my needing time to be sure can make you this bad-tempered I hate to think what you would have done if I’d said a straight no!’
He moved to pull on the jacket to his suit. ‘If I were you I would start your travelling right away. Go to London with Jason to visit your grandfather, see how you like being alone in a country where you know no one—but don’t expect me to be waiting for you when you get back!’
‘I won’t!’ Her eyes flashed her anger.
‘Good, because I won’t be!’ Tim slammed the door on his way out.
She couldn’t believe the scene she had just been through. Tim had always seemed so sweet, so mild-tempered. He hadn’t been mild-tempered just now, he