his hand lightly round her forearm.
‘You haven’t offended me.’ His voice rolled over her senses like a warm sea of honey. Along with his touch, and the simmering heat in his gaze that he didn’t trouble to disguise, it completely electrified her.
‘Just so that you know, there’s only one woman I’m interested in, Sophia, and that’s
you
.’
‘I already told you that I can’t offer you anything. Weren’t you listening?’
‘I heard what you said. But I’m not a man who gives up easily when I sense something or
someone
might potentially be important to me.’
His riveting gaze made her feel as if she was diving into a molten blue lake. When he lifted his hand from her arm, Sophia knew the sensuous tingling imprint that he left on her skin would not easily vanish when he had gone. Apart from being immensely pleasurable, the thought of what it might mean … where it could lead should she succumb to his touch more fully … made her quake inside.
Putting a lit match to the tinder she’d arranged between the split ash logs in the once grand fireplace, it was with a real sense of satisfaction that Sophia watched the dry wooden limbs and scrunched-up newspaper catch fire. Her father had always loved a real fire in winter, or when the weather was sufficiently cold to warrant one, and they unfailingly reminded Sophia of home and of
him. Sometimes it was too much to bear to remember he was gone and that he’d left the world believing that his only daughter was in safe hands with her new husband
. But she’d often counted her blessings that he
hadn’t
lived to see the misery Tom had inflicted on her, because it would have broken his heart. He would also have been furious that any man would treat her with anything but the utmost respect, and would have fought tooth and nail to extricate her from a marriage that in truth had been
doomed
even before the ceremony.
What she would give now to have had the common sense to see it for herself
. Yet her union with her husband had not been a total disaster, because it had given her Charlie … the little boy who had helped Sophia cling to hope even when times had been unremittingly dark and frightening … The depth of love she felt for her son went way beyond any love she could ever imagine. She glanced over at him now, to check that he was still sleeping. Satisfied that he was, she allowed herself a pleased smile, then returned her gaze to the fire.
Flashes of blue flame were licking hotly round the fragrant logs, denoting the fire had taken firm hold, and she rose to her feet from her kneeling position in front of it, dusted her hands over her jeans and returned to the worn maroon armchair opposite her guest. Charliecontinued to slumber blissfully in his curled-up position on the couch, his plump cheeks rosy as the sweetest red apple even though the warmth of the fire had not yet permeated the room. Sophia moved her glance to Jarrett. The long muscular legs in faded black denim were stretched out in a relaxed pose as he sipped at the mug of tea she’d made him, and she couldn’t help admiring his apparent ability to be so at ease.
‘Great idea of yours to light a fire,’ he remarked, and his sinfully velvet-rich tones elicited an outbreak of goosebumps up and down her skin.
‘It’s cold enough for one,’ she said and smiled. “Cast not a clout ‘til May is out” my grandmother used to say—and it’s true. Funny how the old sayings are such a comfort … even when you’re little and don’t understand them.’
‘I know what you mean. Was the grandmother you mentioned your father’s mother or your mother’s?’
Making herself as comfortable as she could manage in the hard-backed armchair—not easy when the seat cushion beneath her was worn flat as a pancake from use and old-age—Sophia took a careful sip of her hot sweet tea, then lowered the mug to rest it against her denim-covered thigh. ‘She was my dad’s mum. My mother was an orphan. I
‘You haven’t offended me.’ His voice rolled over her senses like a warm sea of honey. Along with his touch, and the simmering heat in his gaze that he didn’t trouble to disguise, it completely electrified her.
‘Just so that you know, there’s only one woman I’m interested in, Sophia, and that’s
you
.’
‘I already told you that I can’t offer you anything. Weren’t you listening?’
‘I heard what you said. But I’m not a man who gives up easily when I sense something or
someone
might potentially be important to me.’
His riveting gaze made her feel as if she was diving into a molten blue lake. When he lifted his hand from her arm, Sophia knew the sensuous tingling imprint that he left on her skin would not easily vanish when he had gone. Apart from being immensely pleasurable, the thought of what it might mean … where it could lead should she succumb to his touch more fully … made her quake inside.
Putting a lit match to the tinder she’d arranged between the split ash logs in the once grand fireplace, it was with a real sense of satisfaction that Sophia watched the dry wooden limbs and scrunched-up newspaper catch fire. Her father had always loved a real fire in winter, or when the weather was sufficiently cold to warrant one, and they unfailingly reminded Sophia of home and of
him. Sometimes it was too much to bear to remember he was gone and that he’d left the world believing that his only daughter was in safe hands with her new husband
. But she’d often counted her blessings that he
hadn’t
lived to see the misery Tom had inflicted on her, because it would have broken his heart. He would also have been furious that any man would treat her with anything but the utmost respect, and would have fought tooth and nail to extricate her from a marriage that in truth had been
doomed
even before the ceremony.
What she would give now to have had the common sense to see it for herself
. Yet her union with her husband had not been a total disaster, because it had given her Charlie … the little boy who had helped Sophia cling to hope even when times had been unremittingly dark and frightening … The depth of love she felt for her son went way beyond any love she could ever imagine. She glanced over at him now, to check that he was still sleeping. Satisfied that he was, she allowed herself a pleased smile, then returned her gaze to the fire.
Flashes of blue flame were licking hotly round the fragrant logs, denoting the fire had taken firm hold, and she rose to her feet from her kneeling position in front of it, dusted her hands over her jeans and returned to the worn maroon armchair opposite her guest. Charliecontinued to slumber blissfully in his curled-up position on the couch, his plump cheeks rosy as the sweetest red apple even though the warmth of the fire had not yet permeated the room. Sophia moved her glance to Jarrett. The long muscular legs in faded black denim were stretched out in a relaxed pose as he sipped at the mug of tea she’d made him, and she couldn’t help admiring his apparent ability to be so at ease.
‘Great idea of yours to light a fire,’ he remarked, and his sinfully velvet-rich tones elicited an outbreak of goosebumps up and down her skin.
‘It’s cold enough for one,’ she said and smiled. “Cast not a clout ‘til May is out” my grandmother used to say—and it’s true. Funny how the old sayings are such a comfort … even when you’re little and don’t understand them.’
‘I know what you mean. Was the grandmother you mentioned your father’s mother or your mother’s?’
Making herself as comfortable as she could manage in the hard-backed armchair—not easy when the seat cushion beneath her was worn flat as a pancake from use and old-age—Sophia took a careful sip of her hot sweet tea, then lowered the mug to rest it against her denim-covered thigh. ‘She was my dad’s mum. My mother was an orphan. I
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