Never Courted, Suddenly Wed (Scandalous Seasons #2)(51)

Sophie realized she’d been cooling herself and froze. She jerked her gaze upward, heat staining her neck and climbing up to her cheeks. “Uh, I’m sorry. No. No fever.”

“I asked if you’d like to fetch ices at Gunter’s.”

“What?”

“You know, ices. Delectable, cool treats you can find at…”

She laughed and swatted at him. “Don’t be silly. And ices would be delightful.”

“Splendid.”

A servant appeared with a tray of pastries and tea. Sophie waited until he took his leave before reaching for a pastry. “Ooh, a lemon mince tart. I swear they are one of my…” Her fingers stilled over the tray. She yanked her hand back.

Christopher motioned to the tray. “No need to wait on my account, Phi. After all, we’re friends.”

“Is that what we are?” The words slipped out, and she was unable to call them back.

“I like to think so.”

“Who would have imagined you would ever consider me a friend?”

Christopher reached over for a tart. He held it out to her. She accepted it, there fingers brushing. “We’ve grown up.”

Sophie nibbled at the edge of the treat. Yes, they were no longer children. Funny how that truth had eluded them until only just recently.

“So Mallen’s been courting you.”

She choked around a mouthful of the flaky, lemon treat.

Christopher reached over to pat her on the back but she waved him off.

“Fine. Fine,” she managed.

He folded his arms at his chest. “Well?”

Sophie directed her eyes downward toward the plate. How did he expect her to reply to that statement? “I didn’t know it was a question, Christopher.”

“Fair enough.”

She made to take another bite.

“And?”

She froze mid-bite. “It seems that way.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sophie sighed. “It seems so very odd. I’ve known the duke any number of years. He never seemed to take note of me before this Season.”

“Mayhap he’s finally come to appreciate your beauty,” he said, with a solemnity that tugged at her heart.

“Or mayhap he needs to be committed to Bedlam,” she said under her breath. “Though I prefer your suggestion much more.”

***

Christopher’s gut roiled at her unwitting comment about Bedlam. It reminded him of his father’s threat if he didn’t wed Sophie. Not for the first time since Christopher had developed his scheme, tendrils of guilt snaked around his belly.

Based on Sophie’s words, she was suspicious of Mallen’s motives and the reality of it was that she should be.

Only…Christopher’s defense of her beauty was born of truth.

For all these years, he’d he failed to note her winsome beauty, a laugh that rang like the purest tinkling bells, her clever wit—until now.

“He’d be mad not to want to court you, Phi.”

She snorted. “You must have developed the fever.”

Perhaps he had. Because just then, he couldn’t tear his eyes from that plump, lower lip.

God help him…

He stood so suddenly, his legs knocked the small table in front of them, something tumbled to the floor.

Sophie craned her head back to look at him. “Christopher…” A squeak escaped her when he pulled her to her feet.

Christopher dipped his head, his lips finding hers and at last explored the sweet beauty of her mouth. He angled his head, and trailed fingers along the curve of her waist.

A breathy little moan escaped Sophie. It was all the encouragement he needed. He parted her lips and his tongue delved inside the warm contours of her mouth. She tasted of lemon and spice and he wanted to devour her right there.

His tongue caressed the tip of hers and with a woman’s intuition she followed the age-old seductive dance. Her tongue met his with a wanton boldness.

Christopher hardened against the soft flesh of her belly.

Sophie gasped.

The breathless sound penetrated the madness that consumed him. He made to pull away but Sophie reached up and tangled her long fingers in the strands of hair that had escaped the queue at the base of his neck.

She tugged the band free and twisted her hands through his hair.

Christopher groaned. There was something so sweetly erotic about her bold innocence.

A gasp at the doorway jerked them apart, effectively killing his ardor.

Sophie’s maid stood, eying her mistress with stern disapproval.

He looked down at Sophie.

Sophie blinked and took a hasty step away from Christopher. “Lucy. Uh…” Her words trailed off as she sank back into her seat and folded her trembling hands upon her violet skirts. “Geoffrey is going to be livid,” she whispered.

“At worst, he’d insist we wed.”

He started, even as her eyes flew to his, unsure as to where those words had come from. Mere weeks ago, he couldn’t have imagined a more outlandish, disturbing prospect than marriage to Sophie. In a short time, something had changed. Something he didn’t understand. Something he couldn’t explain.

She looked away. “You don’t want to wed me.”

Sophie flinched, when he didn’t immediately respond.