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Nothing Left to Give. Caroline Anderson
Читать онлайн.Название Nothing Left to Give
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Автор произведения Caroline Anderson
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
He looked relieved, she thought, that she hadn’t given him an outright refusal. She wasn’t sure, in fact, why she hadn’t, because she was very torn. The trouble was, she realised later as she lay in bed thinking it over, she wanted to do it too badly.
Sophie had carved a little niche in her heart, and watching Will and Claire with Gideon just made her aware of how much she had missed with her own parents.
So working for him would be very bitter-sweet.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea after all.
Which was ridiculous, because she had nothing better to do, and some frightful creature might end up looking after Sophie and she could become very unhappy as a result.
No, she would do it, she decided—and refuse house-room to the mocking voice that questioned her motives. Of course she wasn’t doing it to be near Gideon! After all, she was near him all day at work!
But it wasn’t quite the same, and in her heart she knew it.
Monday dawned bright and clear, one of those lovely late September days that made you wonder why you lit the fire the night before.
Beth dressed carefully in her uniform, made her bed and let herself out of the flat. A brisk two-minute walk was just what she needed to blow away the cobwebs.
A scrunch of gravel behind her made her turn her head in time to see Gideon coming down the drive towards her.
She waited for him, deciding to give him her decision straight away.
His smile was distracted.
‘Problems?’ she asked.
‘Claire—she said she wasn’t feeling very well and refused to go to school.’
Oh. Well, if it helps I’ll go over as soon as I finish and see how she is.’
He shot her a curious look. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve given my suggestion any further thought, have you?’
‘As a matter of fact, yes—I’ve decided I’ll do it, but only in return for the rent. I don’t want to be paid—not if I’m eating with you as well, and it would make sense to do that if you’re sure?’
He stopped in his tracks, turning to her, his grey-green eyes filled with relief. Oh, Beth, I don’t know how to thank you ——’
She gave a dry laugh. ‘You haven’t tasted my cooking yet!’
He chuckled. ‘It can’t be worse than Mrs Archer’s.’
‘Hmm. I should reserve judgement, if I were you.’
They walked the rest of the way mostly in silence, with Gideon putting in the odd comment about routine while Beth wondered if it was really going to be such a good idea spending any more time than was strictly necessary in the company of this very attractive man.
The first session of the Stop Smoking clinic was a delight for Beth. She found that she agreed wholeheartedly with everything Gideon said, and that the videos, leaflets and advice he exposed the patients to followed almost exactly the routine she had been using.
She then talked to the patients about why they wanted to give up, and what made them smoke in the first place. They were then given a diary, and asked to set a date for giving up.
‘Don’t think of it as giving up—that implies self-sacrifice,’ Gideon told them. Think of it instead as taking control of your life again, instead of allowing tobacco to rule your actions. Note down in the diary when you smoke, and why. There will be some cigarettes that are harder to give up than others. Note which ones you think they will be.’
When the patients left, she could see some of them already looked discouraged.
They always want a miracle,’ Gideon said on the way home. They seem to think we’re going to wave a wand and it will all come right. Zap! No more cravings, no more addiction, just “I’m a non-smoker”. What they don’t realise is that they will always be smokers now, they just won’t be doing it.’
‘Unless they fail,’ Beth said drily.
Oh, yes—and lots of them will. I think we’ll lose at least one by next week.’
‘Not David Hendry, though.’
‘No—no, not Hendry. He’s determined. He’s already cut down from sixty to thirty. I don’t know when he finds the time!’
Beth laughed. ‘He needs an occupation that uses his hands—he wouldn’t be able to then.’
‘Huh! They just stick one in their mouths and breathe round it! It really is the biggest curse of our society, I think—worse than Hep B or HIV or alcohol, even. The trouble is it’s acceptable.’
‘Is it?’ Beth asked. ‘Not to me it isn’t. I resent having to breathe other people’s stale smoke.’
Gideon gave a grunt of agreement. The trouble is, once started it’s so hard to stop. I feel sorry for them.’
‘Did you notice how many of them have started smoking just by chance?’ she said.
‘Yes—and that’s why I’m making damn sure that my kids know how dangerous and anti-social it is, because it only takes one cigarette and a lifetime’s habit can be started.’ He turned his head towards her. ‘You did well.’ She returned the compliment, ignoring the kick of her heart against her ribs. ‘So did you.’
They shared a smile, and Beth felt herself falling further into what could only be a disastrous attraction. Damn, why did she have to find him so attractive? And it wasn’t just a physical thing, that was what was so dangerous. Sex appeal she could put in its proper place, but this was so much more complex, so much more insidious.
She suddenly began to wonder if sitting down at the table every evening with him and his children would actually be less harmful than starving!
Claire was on the hall floor when they went in, tangled in the phone flex as usual, lying on her back with her legs up the wall and giggling.
She looked the picture of health and fitness, and Gideon told her to get off the phone and take her feet off the wallpaper.
Beth followed him through to the kitchen, noting his scowl. ‘Um—I did a casserole—the children have all had theirs.’
He looked blankly at her, then sighed. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. That girl ——’
‘—is just like any other teenager. She’s fine.’
‘That,’ he growled, ‘is precisely my point. There’s nothing at all wrong with the little skiver. I’m starving.’
Beth stifled a grin. ‘Where do you want to eat?’
‘In here,’ he told her, and opening a cupboard, he retrieved a couple of wine glases. ‘Join me?’
Oh—thanks, yes, I will.’
While she took the casserole out of the oven and dished up, he opened a bottle and poured the wine, then handed her a glass. He raised his to her.
‘Here’s celebrating my cleverness for finding such a treasure.’
She flushed and laughed uncomfortably. ‘You haven’t tried the food yet.’
‘It smells wonderful.’ His eyes were still locked with hers, and her breath lodged in her throat. She looked quickly away.
‘Um—let’s eat.’
‘Good idea,’ he said easily, and she found he was holding the chair for her in a display of old-fashioned good manners she had forgotten existed.
As he moved away his hand brushed her shoulder, and