Sophie's Heart: Sweet Historical Romances Page 14

  “That,” Kell replied, “you’ll have to ask Jack. It’s just not my place to say, Sophie. I’m sorry.”

  “I see,” Sophie replied, but she really didn’t see at all. Kell’s loyalty was unwavering, and commendable, but she wasn’t about to ask Jack MacAuley for anything at all.

  “You say you found Jack’s name in a letter?” Kell asked, and she could tell by his tone that he was curious.

  Sophie decided she had nothing to hide from him. She trusted him. She somehow understood that whatever was said between them would go no further. And she needed someone to confide in. She decided it wouldn’t hurt to at least tell Kell the truth.

  “I am going to see Harlan,” she assured him, “but it’s not what I’ve led you to believe. I don’t really miss him at all,” she confessed.

  “That much is obvious, Sophie.”

  Sophie peered up at him.

  Was it?

  She wanted to ask why, but wasn’t really certain she wished to know the reason he had come to that conclusion. She was heartily afraid the truth was in her eyes. She told him about the letter then, finishing the story with tears in her eyes.

  “You deserve far better,” Kell assured her, and drew her into his embrace, consoling her in a brotherly fashion.

  Sophie was grateful for his support. Her heart squeezed her just a little at the memory of Jack’s baleful glare. “Please don’t tell Jack?” she begged him. She was angered that he had chosen to believe the worst of her, but she couldn’t bear it if he were to pity her.

  “It’s not my place to,” he reassured.

  Sophie nodded, grateful for his answer. The last thing she wanted was Jack’s pity.

  Anyway, it would be far safer if he continued to loathe her. Judging by the weight she felt in her heart over his obvious disgust of her, she had allowed him to come too close already, and without even knowing it.

  Why should she care if he didn’t trust her, or didn’t like her? After these two weeks at sea he would be of no consequence to her at all. She didn’t intend to bother asking about return passage. It would suit her best if she got off this wretched ship and never set eyes on him again.

  One heartache in a lifetime was more than enough.

  Chapter 18

  The impact sent her into shock.

  Sophie awoke, surrounded by darkness, her body quivering with remembered terror. She’d been dreaming, and the dream had seemed so real that she could still hear the wailing of ghosts in her ears. She whimpered softly.

  “It was just a dream,” a voice soothed her.

  Sophie blinked, trying to orient herself.

  “A bad dream,” the voice cooed.

  “Jack?”

  Thunder roared, shaking her to the bone and rattling the ship’s shutters. A distant bolt of lightning lit the room for the briefest instant—long enough that she saw Jack’s look of concern as he stared down at her.

  “I’m here,” he replied softly.

  “I was locked in a tomb!” she cried out, her body continuing to quiver and her heart pounding until she had trouble catching her breath.

  “You fell out of the hammock,” he explained, his voice soft and comforting. “Are you all right?”

  “I fell?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  She hadn’t even realized she was on the floor.

  “Are you all right?” he repeated.

  “Yes... I... I think so,” she replied a little dazed, and continued to shiver as the wind howled in her ears.

  She sensed, more than saw, that he reached up and pulled the blanket from her hammock. It fluttered down atop her, and he spread it around her, tucking her in like a parent would a cherished child.

  Another bolt of lightning lit the room.

  He was shirtless. The realization came to her at once.

  The ship rolled a bit, sending him sprawling over her. “Sorry,” he offered, and retreated from atop her.

  Sophie swallowed. “It’s all right,” she said, stuffing her arms beneath the blankets. “Thank you for the blanket.” She didn’t know why she suddenly felt so cold. Her teeth chattered, and he slipped an arm around her. Sophie couldn’t care less about propriety at the moment; she was grateful for the reassuring embrace.

  “It’s cold,” she complained.

  “It’s the storm,” he said, and added as the ship listed sharply, “I’d put you back in the hammock, but I think it’d be a wasted effort.”

  Sophie was inclined to agree.

  “I dreamt that I was locked in a tomb with ghosts and skeletons everywhere!” Her heart was still racing, her body tingly and numb.

  He chuckled softly. “No skeletons here,” he swore. “But you hit the deck so hard it woke me from a dead sleep. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Sophie felt guilty for waking him.

  The ship listed once more, and she slid a bit in the opposite direction. Were it not that Jack caught her, she thought she would have slipped away. “I think I’d prefer the floor just now anyway,” she confessed as her stomach rolled in protest to the motion. “I suddenly don’t feel so well.”

  Jack laughed. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you I didn’t, either?”

  Sophie didn’t think so. She shook her head and tried to steady her stomach, taking deep breaths.

  “It feels worse than it is,” he disclosed.

  How comforting, though at the moment, her stomach wasn’t much appeased by his reassurances. She groaned, grateful that the room was dark, because she thought it would be spinning otherwise.

  “Kell has everything in hand,” he told her. “He says it’ll pass before morning.”

  “That long?”

  “Afraid so.” He shifted beside her and Sophie thought he meant to get up.

  She panicked. “No! Stay!” she begged him.

  She knew she was being silly, but she couldn’t help it. She’d never liked storms anyway, but it was far worse, she realized, to be caught in a squall at sea than to wait out a gale in her cozy little bed at home.

  He squeezed her arm. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “Just getting another blanket.”

  “You can share mine!” she offered at once, and lifted the blanket for him to climb beneath.

  He hesitated. “Uhhh... maybe that’s not such a good idea, Sophia.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she scolded him. “It’s perfectly all right!” Her chest hurt a bit as though someone were sitting on her, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. The nightmare was with her still, and the ship’s rolling was making her anxiety worse. “Please, don’t go!”

  He didn’t sound the least bit assured. “Well ... all right,” he relented, and slipped beneath the covers.

  Sophie stiffened at the feel of his bare chest against her arm, and he noted it at once. “I did warn you,” he told her, his voice low.

  Sophie swallowed convulsively.

  “It’s all right,” she assured him, and hoped it didn’t seem so terrible a thing that she didn’t want him to leave her.

  “Should I get my own blanket?” He lifted up the covers to remove himself.

  “No…” Her objection sounded weak even to her own ears, and he lifted the covers higher. “No!” she said a bit more resolutely, and he dropped the covers and settled in beside her.

  Her anxiety eased the instant he put his arms around her. Outside, the storm raged on, but inside the cabin it suddenly didn’t seem so frightening.

  For a long time, there was silence between them. Sophie lay still in his arms, listening to the rumble of thunder and the waves slapping at wood. It wasn’t long before her stomach felt better. He was a solid barrier and kept her steady.

  “When I was a kid,” he began, and seemed to understand that his voice would soothe her, “I used to climb out of my window and ride out the storm in the tree outside my bedroom.”

  Sophie’s heartbeat began to slow.

  She imagined him straddling a branch, while the tree swayed unde
r the onslaught of wind... like a bucking horse... and was amused by the image.

  “That wasn’t the safest place to be!” she scolded him, but there was a smile in her tone. “Although I’m certain your mother would have told you so.”

  He held her a little tighter and laid his head down beside her. Sophie could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek. It sent a shiver through her.

  “My mother died when I was four,” he revealed. “It was just me and my da.”

  “Oh no!” Sophie exclaimed. “I’m sorry!”

  “Don’t be,” he reassured her, and Sophie heard no self-pity in his tone. “I never really knew her, and my father was the best da a kid could want.”

  Sophie smiled. “Especially since he let you ride out storms in a tree?”

  He chuckled low at her ear. “No, even better. Because he sometimes rode out the storm in the tree with me.”

  “Oh my!” she exclaimed, and couldn’t imagine her own father or mother sitting out on the limb of a tree in the middle of some raging storm. She laughed and tried to imagine Harlan out on a tree limb, even as a lad, and couldn’t picture it. He was far too proper.

  For that matter, she tried to picture him out in some field, digging up fossils ... and ruining his manicure. She couldn’t picture that either and frowned.

  Unlike Harlan, she could easily picture Jack there, and she wondered what it was that Harlan did in the Yucatan... besides raise women’s skirts.

  She couldn’t begin to fathom.

  She was still trying to figure it out when Jack whispered against her ear. “I really love the smell of your hair, Sophia.”

  She thought she misheard him. “Wh-what?” she asked, trying to see him through the darkness.

  “I love the smell of your hair,” he murmured, and seemed to be nuzzling it softly.

  A quiver sped through her at the realization, and her heart began to beat a little faster. She couldn’t speak, and he mistook her silence.

  “Forgive me,” he begged her, but Sophie wasn’t the least offended by his compliment ... or by his actions.

  She tried to speak past the knot that formed in her throat, to reassure him that he hadn’t offended her at all, but she couldn’t form a coherent sound.

  No man had ever moved her so with mere words.

  Never, since childhood, had Harlan actually taken the time to really listen to her.

  Never had he cherished her so.

  Her lips tingled at the memory of her stolen kiss, and she longed to savor just one more; only she wasn’t about to make the first move this time.

  She wanted so much for this to be true, for him to want her by his side always, not pity her has he must.

  She wanted him to look at her not with disgust or disappointment, but as he had that first day on the docks, she realized... before all the unpleasantness had come between them.

  “Sophia,” he whispered.

  His voice seemed rife with as much confusion as Sophie was feeling...

  “Yes?” she replied, breathless now.

  Silence met her reply.

  The scent of him drew her nearer, and her breath became more labored…

  Jack wanted to kiss her.

  The scent of her skin intoxicated him.

  The air around them grew charged with far more than just the electricity from the storm, and Jack held her closer.

  Was she feeling it as well? The electric current in the air? It sent fire racing across his skin.

  He was drawn to her in a way he hadn’t ever felt toward a woman.

  Never in his life had he felt so uncertain around a woman... or so attracted... or so wary... or so confused.

  And he’d never considered the word no before now... not in this way... never needed to. He had always been willing to accept the outcome, whatever it might be. For the first time ever, he dreaded hearing it.

  Sophie was from a world he could never truly be part of—not that he hadn’t tried. And failed. He had the money and the brains. He just hadn’t the name. And that in a nutshell was why he’d had to purchase this ship himself, and fund his own research.

  He drew back, looking down on her, telling himself that he’d be a fool to get mixed up in something that was set against him from the start.

  She was off limits, and it didn’t take an academic genius to figure that one out.

  Except that he had never before let odds stand in his way.

  Sophie waited with bated breath for him to speak again, but he didn’t.

  She wanted nothing more than to forget all that had passed between them. She wanted to start over. Daring to press herself closer, she closed her eyes, hoping he would respond.

  “Sophia,” he began, his voice hoarse and low. “May I... kiss you?”

  Her heart hammered at the question.

  She swallowed and whispered back, sounding more hesitant than she wished to, “I would like that.”

  She felt him lean closer, though he didn’t close the space between them.

  “Are you sure?” he asked again, giving her one last chance to deny him.

  Sophie was quite certain.

  Couldn’t he tell how much she wanted to kiss him by the sound of her heartbeat? It was so loud in her ears that her body thrummed to its rhythm. She nodded and, for answer, lifted her hands from under the blankets, finding his face in the darkness. She touched it tentatively and heard his soft gasp.

  His hand covered hers just an instant before their lips met.

  The shock of it sent Sophie reeling... or maybe it was the boat listing once more. She couldn’t really tell. He held her close, kissing her passionately, but with restraint... and Sophie knew instinctively he was holding back.

  She didn’t want him to.

  He kissed her like a gentleman, not because he was one, she sensed... but because he chose to be one, and that knowledge in itself left her breathless.

  His kiss was nothing like the chaste pecks on the lips Harlan had given her.

  He cradled her face in his hands, in a way that spoke volumes more than Harlan’s pretty, prattling words in all of his letters combined. How silly they were now, she could see…And how fake.

  She was so beautiful.

  Though he couldn’t see her, he imagined her, her rich auburn hair like molten copper about her perfect face. And those eyes ... golden like honey, and sprinkled with emerald dust. He cursed the darkness in that instant that he couldn’t see them ... that he couldn’t read her expression.

  Did she regret it already?

  He surely didn’t.

  Couldn’t.

  Wouldn’t.

  She was silent, and Jack told her, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that, Sophia?”

  She sounded breathless, the same as he did. “How long?” she asked him, and he had to smile at her question.

  As a matter of fact, he didn’t remember a moment when he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, and yet he couldn’t honestly give her the exact instant he’d first realized.

  “Since you first kissed me,” he told her, and knew it was a lie.

  He’d wanted to before then.

  “Oh!” she replied. He wished he could see the color in her cheeks. And then she added, sounding as though she were holding back an embarrassed giggle, “I don’t suppose I should apologize, then?”

  Jack grinned at her. “Not on your life,” he assured her, and chuckled.

  There was silence between them then, and after a moment she said, “I’m very sorry about your papers, Jack.”

  Jack didn’t want to think about that just now, didn’t want to remember who she was. “It’s all right. I managed to save most of them anyway.”

  “Still... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  He wanted to believe she had nothing to do with Penn, other than the obvious. He wanted to believe her when she’d said she missed her fiancé and wanted only to see him... and yet a part of him recoiled at the very possibility... because he wanted her for himself.


  “You don’t really believe I would steal from you, do you?” She sounded hurt by the prospect.

  Reality smacked him in the face.

  She was some other man’s fiancée... engaged to be married to someone other than him.

  On top of that, he wasn’t entirely certain he could trust her. His answer was honest when he gave it. “No.”

  He couldn’t believe she would kiss him like that if she could so easily turn around and stab him in the back. And still... she wasn’t being completely honest with him... because no woman in love with someone else could kiss another man like that.

  At least, he hoped it was true.

  Chapter 19

  She’s not what you think,’ Kell said, coming up behind him.

  Jack glanced up from his work, annoyed that the only thing Kell ever seemed to have to talk to him about was Sophie. “No?” he asked, though he was beginning to sense it as much himself.

  “No,” Kell answered, and came to sit on the desk. The portrait of Harlan Penn caught his attention and he lifted it up, arching a brow as he inspected it.

  Jack tried hard not to notice the picture, as much as it irked him. In fact, he’d like to send it flying across the room, and would have happily let his desk burn down just to get rid of it. But it belonged to Sophie and so he just ignored it.

  “You know something I don’t?” he asked Kell, sensing it was so. Kell never kept anything from him, but somehow Jack felt this time he was.

  Kell’s reply only provoked him more. “Maybe.”

  Jack studied his friend. “You like her, don’t you?”

  Kell flipped the picture down against his thigh and grinned at him. “Everyone likes her, Jack.”

  Jack knew it was true.

  “Except you, ye rotten scoundrel!”

  “I like her just fine,” Jack countered, and it was a whopper of an understatement. He liked her more than just fine... he liked her too much.

  “Do you?” Kell pried.

  Jack sat back in his chair, studying the smug expression on Kell’s face.