A Most Inconvenient Wish (2 page)

Sophia jumped as another clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. “There is a faster way to the Lodge through the woods. I can show you.”

Ian followed her into the woods as they raced for the house, the wind at their heels. The ribbons of her bonnet whipped behind her, catching the breeze. Feathers bounced as she moved. He caught a glimpse of slim ankles as she lifted her dress to quicken her pace.

Sophia was different from her sisters in every way. She was curvy where Juliet was slight. She was petulant where Anne was calm. Ian didn't know why he was attracted to her except that she was like a bright light on a cloudy day. He'd had more than his share of cloudy days in his life.

They stumbled upon the ruins of an old cottage on their rush to the Lodge. “Hurry. It's starting to rain. You don't want to ruin your bonnet,” he teased.

“Especially because I just purchased it.” She looked back at him, then up at the sky. Her eyes widened with alarm. She lifted the edge of her skirts a bit higher and took off running.

Ian looked back behind him. The sky was eerie shades of black, gray, and brown. He cursed beneath his breath. The temperature dropped as a gust of cold air threatened to remove his hat. He sprinted to catch Sophia, seizing her hand as he caught up to her.

Huge droplets of rain started to splatter his coat and hat as well as her thin dress. He turned toward the stables in the distance, dragging Sophia behind him. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed, filling the air with a chemical smell. The storm was close, almost overhead. They needed shelter—now.

She pulled on his hand. “The Lodge is that way, Mr. McDonald.”

“We won't make the house in time.” Thunder roared, drowning out his words. He glanced back at Sophia, who looked terrified. He pulled her along as he raced toward an outbuilding.

Sophia stumbled and he grasped her waist as lightning crackled around them. She trembled against him, her face beneath that frilly bonnet white.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I'm fine.” She tried to pull away from him, but he kept her close and rushed her toward the nearest outbuilding. Rain started coming down in sheets, soaking her dangling bonnet. Her dark hair hung in damp clumps around her face.

“We'll take shelter here,” he shouted over the storm.

He yanked the door of the small building open and hauled her inside as lightning hit a tree just beyond where they had been standing. Sophia shrieked, covering her face. He tugged her deeper into the darkness of what appeared to be a shed and closed the door behind them. The air was stale and smelled of earth and damp. Gardening tools hung along one side of the wall. A workbench lined another wall. Bits of broken pottery were scattered on the earthen floor. One small window, so dirty he could barely see outside, offered a bit of light. The roof seemed sound and that was all that mattered.

Rain beat hard against the roof. The wind howled, shaking the small building with its force. “We should be safe here,” Ian whispered as he rubbed Sophia's arms. Her skin was cold and she was shivering. He needed to get her warm. Ian pulled her into his arms, against his warmth, but she stiffened against him.

Sophia shoved out of his arms as if the thought of his touch sickened her. She crossed the door and tried to open it.

Damn stubborn woman. Ian moved to the door, ready to catch her if she ran out. “You cannot leave until the storm has passed.”

“I cannot stay here.” Her face was pale, her eyes wide. “You cannot make me stay.”

Thunder shook the walls and rattled the glass in the window. Lightning flashed within seconds of the crash. The storm was overhead and strengthening. He could hear limbs snapping in the wind and banging up against the walls. “Sophia, it's not safe.”

Ian gently took her arm and pulled her away from the opening as a limb of the nearby tree crashed in front of the door on the other side of which she was standing.

S
ophia screamed as the branch crashed right where she had been standing a moment earlier. The small building groaned under the force of the wind. Thunder rattled the windows. The flashes of lightning lit up the dark corners of the building in eerie white light. But the storm was secondary to her fear as Ian dragged her deeper into the small structure. The darkness wrapped around her like bands of thick rope, choking her. She could feel the damp warmth of his body as he drew her closer. She dug in her heels, fighting against his pull.

“Sophia?” Ian McDonald's voice was soft, calm. “It's all right. It's just a late summer storm.”

She yanked her hands from his and edged closer to the door. Distance; she needed distance. “I'm fine.”

“You're freezing. I can hear your teeth chattering.” He reached for her and rubbed her bare arms to try to warm her. She couldn't stop the flinch at his touch. He stopped immediately.

She wrapped her arms around herself as if she could hold in the panic, the fear. Walls seemed to close around her, boxing her in, stirring memories of another time, another man who had made her feel safe, then had made her feel anything but safe.

“You're shivering too. We must get you warm,” Ian said gently

His jaw was set as he stepped forward and pulled her against the warmth of his body. His arms wrapped around her, trapping her against his hard body. He held her there, perfectly still. Panic rolled over her like a cold wave of seawater. Terror fueled her fight as she shoved at him, punched him, shoved at him to free herself from his grasp. “No.”

He released her immediately.

She hated the look on his face. She'd seen that look countless times, the pain, confusion, even anger. She stepped back from him, her chest heaving from terror, and moved toward the safety of the door. “Stay away from me.”

He held up his hands. “I'm not going to hurt you. I promise.”

She looked out at the rain. The storm raged outside as her fear raged inside her. She had thought she was beyond being afraid of such situations.

“Sophia, sweetheart, move away from the door. You might get hurt if you stay there.”

His voice was soft, gentle, sad. Sophia's mind knew not to be afraid of Ian. In the three years she'd known him, he had never been anything but a gentleman. She stepped back into the center of the small shed but still kept some distance between them.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Angry tears burned her eyes. She thought she was beyond this. She thought she had control over her reactions.

“You're still freezing. At least take my coat.” Ian removed his damp wool coat. “May I put it around your shoulders?”

She nodded. He stepped close to her slowly and draped the coat around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

Slowly, her fears started to calm. Her teeth stopped chattering and she started to feel warmer. “I'm sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry I frightened you.” Ian was leaning against the wall of the outside of the building. “I would not have hurt you.”

She pulled in a deep breath. “I know that, Mr. McDonald.”

The questions were there on his face. He wanted to know why she had reacted this way. She didn't want to discuss it, especially with him. She turned to continue watching the storm, focusing on the time between the lightning flashes and the thunder, anything to avoid that expectant look on his face. Sophia opened the door just a bit to peer out. “I think the storm is finally passing. We should be able to leave in just a few more minutes.”

“Matthews tells me you are expecting guests from Town. When do they arrive?”

A safe topic. She almost sagged with relief. She felt humiliated enough without having to explain it all to him. And he would eventually demand an explanation. He wouldn't be able to let it go until he knew all her secrets. “Tomorrow, I believe.”

“How many in the party?”

“It shall be Lord Bateman and his sister, Lady Catherine, and two others.

“A small party, then. Good.”

Sophia was looking forward to seeing Lord Bateman, but Catherine Grayson was the most unpleasant person. Sophia knew she herself could be unpleasant occasionally, but not mean like Catherine. There were many young ladies who were terrified of Catherine. She could make or break their Season with just one cutting remark. Lady Catherine disapproved of Lord Bateman's attentions to her.

“Do all dark, closed spaces affect you like that?” Ian's voice cut through her thoughts.

Drat; he wasn't going to let it go. Sophia had no intention of discussing such a personal memory with him. “That is part of it.”

“Is the other part me?”

She could hear the distress in his voice. “It's not personal.”

“You fought to get out of my arms. How can it not be personal?”

“It is an old wound—do I have to open it up here and now?”

He winced at the sharpness of her tone, but perhaps he would get the point that she had no intention of discussing this with him further.

“I would not have hurt you.”

He moved closer to her and she tensed but did not run away. With the door partially open and cool air circulating, she could control the fear better.

“I know you won't hurt me.”

“Are you still cold?”

She shook her head, clutching the edges of his coat to her chest. “Do you wish to have your coat back?”

“No.”

He moved closer, slowly, not in a threatening way but with purpose. Sophia could feel her pulse speed up, but she fought the urge to run. He wasn't an angry man. And she wasn't fifteen. “What are you doing?”

“Testing a theory.” His voice was soft, gentle.

“I'm not some insect for you to dissect and examine.”

Ian halted in front of her, scrutinizing her. The panic she had felt earlier didn't rise up as much this time. She had the open door beside her. She could see the outside. Still, she wanted Ian McDonald at a distance. There was something about him that pulled at emotions within her that she'd not felt in a very long time. Emotions that drove her to make hasty decisions; change the course of her life. More space was needed here. She stepped away from him.

Ian McDonald must never know how much she was attracted to him. She had no intention of becoming emotionally involved with the son of a steward, no matter how rich and handsome he was.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, then another, almost as he would a child. She waited for the panic but none came. Instead was this quivery feeling of anticipation.

His touch was so gentle, so caring, Sophia closed her eyes to keep him from seeing the longing welling inside her. Her heart longed for more of this cherishing touch, but she couldn't let herself be ruled by it. She made as if to step back again, put some distance between them, before Ian's touch, his scent, his very maleness, reeled her in like a fish on a hook.

“Don't,” he whispered.

Sophia's eyes flew to his face and widened at the emotion she saw there. His eyes darkened to the color of the storm clouds outside the doorway. He gazed at her face, her mouth. What did he want from her? Her heart thumped in her chest, but she didn't fear him. It was a novel feeling.

Ian stepped closer, and instinctively, Sophia stepped back until she could go no farther, the door frame against her back. Cool, fresh air from the passing rain washed over her face, calming her. He moved closer to her, his hands at his sides, nonthreatening. His eyes focused on her mouth.

He was going to kiss her. Sophia was torn between wanting to know what his mouth on hers would feel like and worrying that she'd give away how drawn she was to him. His eyes burned a deep, stormy blue. She felt her breathing quicken, her pulse race.

Ian bent his head to hers, allowing his mouth to brush oh so softly against hers. He lifted his head to see if she was panicking. He dipped his head again, his tongue worrying the spot where she'd bitten her lip.

The only place where he touched her was her mouth. His stance, his arms remained steady, nonthreatening. But oh, his mouth!

Sophia's eyes drifted closed as Ian's lips fit between hers in a perfect kiss. One kiss followed another. Sophia's hands itched to touch him, pull him closer. Never had anyone made her feel like this. Never had her blood felt like syrup running through her body.

He lifted away, ending the kiss. Her eyes opened as she watched him, waiting to see what would happen next. He nodded to himself, as if she'd been some problem he'd worked out in his head.

“Did you discover what you wanted, Mr. McDonald?” she asked.

“Not quite. I think it will require more study.”

* * *

Ian watched as Sophia's jaw tightened in anger, even as her cheeks flushed. She pushed past him and stepped into the rain.

“Where are you going?” He couldn't keep the tinge of laugher from his voice. He had finally had his answer. Sophia wasn't as immune to him as he'd thought.

“Away from you.” She stomped through the grass with wide strides.

“You'll catch your death.”

“A little rain never hurt anyone. I find it cools the passions rather well.”

Ian caught up with her easily. Lightning still flashed dangerously in the sky. “At least stay away from the trees.” He took her arm and guided her into the garden, toward the house.

She had every reason to be angry. He'd pushed her, tested her to see what had triggered the panicked response in the shed. Something had frightened her and he needed to know the cause. Sophia Townsend was vain, aloof, and had the tendency to lash out with words. Fear was not something he'd ever seen in her before.

This was a woman who cut a swath through Society that he envied. She had no fear of new situations. She could hold her own even in the most pompous of crowds and look down her pretty nose at them.

Not once had he seen her as afraid as she'd been in the potter's shed. Afraid of him.

That was the rub. She'd winced at his touch. She'd fought his arms as if he were the very devil himself. He had to understand why because if it was his touch, his presence, he might as well give up the game now.

The game to win Sophia Townsend as his wife.

She would make a fine wife. She could handle just about any situation. She wasn't cowed by the prejudices of the Ton. She could hold her own in any type of society. He needed that if he was going to further his business dealings. Sophia Townsend could be a great asset for his future.

It didn't hurt that she was breathtakingly beautiful. Having her on his arm would garner attention. Not to mention that he wanted her.

Hence the experimental kiss. He had eliminated the closed-in spaces, allowing her the ability to escape easily. He'd pressed his mouth to hers and had been lost.

It had taken all his resolve not to pull her into his body as her mouth accepted his. The fear had been gone. Experiment successful, and in the process, he'd found that the rumors of her coldness were unfounded. There was a great deal of passion in Sophia Townsend. She'd responded to him. Not so very cold after all.

“We should decide how we want to consider this further study, Miss Townsend.”

“There will be no study.”

“Admit that you enjoyed it.”

She stopped, heedless of the rain and the fact that it made her look like a wet kitten. He rather liked this undone version of Miss Townsend. He smiled.

“Hear me well, Mr. McDonald: There will be no repeat performance of what just happened. I am not interested.”

“Funny but you felt very interested. In fact, I think I could kindle your interest very quickly.”

She moved away from him. “That kiss changed nothing.”

“It changes a great deal, Sophia.”

She smirked. “Really, Mr. McDonald, it was just a kiss.”

“Do you allow men to kiss you like that on a regular basis?” The thought of any other man touching what he considered his was abhorrent. He'd never thought of himself as a possessive man, but Sophia had changed that when he met her.

“That would make me fast,” Sophia said primly.

“It's still a valid question.”

She glared at him. “I am not fast and you are no gentleman for suggesting it.”

“I'm no gentleman at all, according to you.”

“True.” She turned away from him with that cold reply and started back toward the house again.

He stopped her by grasping her arm. Irritation, his normal emotion where she was concerned, reared its ugly head. “If I'm no gentleman, why did I stop, Sophia? We both know I could have taken the kiss a great deal farther than I did.”

“You were testing me.”

“Yes.”

“It won't happen again.”

He almost smiled at the lack of conviction in her voice. She wasn't going to be able to hide from him any longer. Her reaction to him was of equal strength to his reaction to her. Yes, she would make a very passionate wife. “Yes, I think it will. I think it will happen a great deal from now on.”

“Don't be coarse.” She turned away and stared at the rain. “A gentleman wouldn't say such a thing.”

“You claimed I wasn't a gentleman, remember?”

“And you've made my case for me.”

Ian was quiet for a long moment before saying, “Don't forget what you wished for at the Fairy Steps.”

She did not respond, her eyes flashing her anger.

He pulled her closer. The rain was easing now. Her hair fell in wet clumps around her face. “You wished to be stuck with me for life.”