Lover Be Mine: A Legendary Lovers Novel (29 page)

At the same time Sophie was enduring the ladies’ inquiry, Quinn was interrogating
Jack in the salon, having remained behind for a private word.

“I’m still astounded you even ventured here, considering how much you hate de Villars,”
Quinn stated at once.

“I admit I’ve astounded myself,” Jack replied.

“What in hell came over you? That summer Prince Raoul succeeded to the throne, when
he wrote and offered to make you his heir, you threatened to visit his country only
for the satisfaction of beating his face to a bloody pulp. In fact, I recall you vowing
to run him through with a sword.”

“Circumstances have changed since then. And the likelihood that he’s dying makes him
more sympathetic.” As did Sophie’s soft heart, Jack reflected.

“So you mean to accept his offer?”

“It depends on Sophie.”

Quinn let out a low whistle and ran a hand through his dark blond hair. “Pray don’t
tell me you actually believe she is your destiny.”

Quinn was the most cynical of all the Wilde cousins
and put no credence in Kate’s mad theory of legendary lovers. “I’m not ready to go
so far.”

“But how far gone
are
you? Do you fancy yourself in love with her?” Quinn asked when Jack remained silent.

That was the crucial question. There was no doubt his hatred for his father was diminishing.
And for Sophie’s sake, he could endeavor to let go of the past, possibly enough to
acknowledge his royal heritage. But was he willing to surrender his heart for the
first time?

He was a Wilde after all, and the Wildes were blessed—or cursed, depending on one’s
point of view—with the primal desire to find a mate. Except for Quinn, their family
generally believed that true love was life’s greatest prize.

Until this year when Ash had found Maura, love had proved elusive for their generation.
But the thought that he could be the next to fall no longer disturbed Jack as it once
had.

In truth, he’d made a vast transformation these past few weeks, in large part because
of Sophie’s healing presence. Her allure stemmed not merely from her beauty but from
that special, nurturing quality she had in abundance. She warmed him from the inside
out. His heart felt lighter when he was with her. He felt as if he could conquer the
world when she smiled at him.

And the simple truth was, he never felt alone when he was with Sophie.

If that was not love, then what was it?

Love or not
, the choice was clear for Jack: If Sophie agreed to wed him, he would become heir
to the Navartanian throne. But they had to decide soon. Consequently, he invited her
on a ride the following afternoon to press the issue.

“My family’s company may be delightful, but we need a respite from their charms,”
he told her in vague explanation.

Sophie apparently agreed, judging by her willingness to escape the palace with him,
although she waited to question him until they had guided their saddle horses through
the rear gates and turned onto a wide riding path in the forest. “Where are you taking
me?”

“You’ll see.”

The weather had cooperated with a perfect summer day—gentle sunshine, brilliant blue
sky, and a smattering of fleecy white clouds floating overhead. As their mounts negotiated
the gentle descent through the forest, Jack initiated his discussion by voluntarily
introducing the subject of his father.

“You were wise to encourage me to talk to Prince Raoul. After hearing his side of
the story, the worst of my bitterness is gone,” Jack acknowledged. “And perhaps I
don’t hate him quite as much as before.”

“Oh?” Sophie looked surprised by his confession. Doubtless she hadn’t expected that
he would purposely share his feelings with her. But if he’d learned anything about
Sophie over the past fortnight, it was that emotional honesty was the only policy
that worked with her.

“I am glad, Jack,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to cause you more pain, but I hoped
you could reconcile with your father, regardless of whether you claim your royal birthright.
Have you decided yet what course you will take?”

Jack took a slow breath, bracing himself. He was finally prepared to do the one thing
he’d spurned his entire life. “Yes. I’m willing to accept his offer if you will be
my princess.”

Sophie gave him a long, searching look, then fell into a troubled silence. Likely
she also knew that time was growing short for a decision. Jack could only trust that
the preparations he’d taken great care in making would influence her answer positively.
Belatedly, he’d realized that his courtship had not held any real romance thus far,
nor had he made her a proper proposal of marriage. This afternoon he intended to rectify
both lapses.

After another quarter hour of riding, they reached the secluded site that was his
destination. The forest was more sparse here and gave way to a sun-drenched mountain
meadow, which nestled against the side of a ravine. On the rocky face above their
heads, a lively
stream tumbled over a wall of boulders before spilling into a crystal clear pool below.
The sparkling mist surrounding the waterfall generated a treasure of rainbows.

“How beautiful,” Sophie murmured over the rush of water. “How did you find this place?”

“I asked the palace servants about the most picturesque sites.”

She caught her breath when she spied the quilt spread on the grass, where the servants
had laid out a feast for their private enjoyment. “You clearly went to a great deal
of trouble to plan this outing.”

“You are worth it.”

Jack slid down from his saddle and helped Sophie to dismount. Tethering the horses
to a nearby tree, he led her to the quilt and settled her there, then sat beside her
and presented her with a simple gift from his knapsack.

“A crown of flowers for your hair, my lady.”

Sophie accepted the wreath of daisies and larkspur with a wary smile while questioning
his motives. “What are you about, Jack?”

“I wanted to set the scene for a romantic proposal.”

“This is indeed romantic,” she conceded as he poured wine into two goblets and handed
her one. “Did your female relatives put you up to this?”

“No, this was my own idea—although Skye took me to task yesterday for failing to woo
you properly. Hounded me is more accurate.”

That drew another faint smile from Sophie. “I can just imagine.”

For a time silence reigned as they watched the splashing waterfall and the resultant
ripples on the
shining surface of the pool. The sun glimmered down, golden and warm, lending a tranquility
that had been missing in most of their previous encounters.

Finally Jack took the plunge himself. “Will you do me the honor of giving me your
hand in marriage, Sophie?”

Looking torn, she averted her gaze and stared down into her wineglass, but at least
she hadn’t refused him outright.

Setting aside both their glasses, he took her hand and brought her palm to his lips.
He intended to win her agreement to wed him before the afternoon was over. “You know
I will make you a far better husband than Dunmore,” he began.

“That isn’t the issue. We have discussed this before, Jack. I don’t want to devastate
my parents by marrying you, especially when your heart isn’t in it.”

“But we’ll be a good match, even without love between us.”

“I cannot let you sacrifice your freedom for me.”

“It won’t be a sacrifice. I will likely marry at some point, and I will never find
anyone I want more than you. I want you for my wife, Sophie.”

She searched his face as she wavered in indecision. “What does your family say?”

His lips curved as he recalled the ladies’ enthusiasm. “They are more than eager to
welcome you into the Wilde fold.”

“Even your cousin, Lord Traherne?”

Jack gave a dismissive shrug. “Quinn is not as convinced as the others that we are
fated to be lovers.”

But even Quinn had eventually tempered his objections with a surprising admission
during their final
exchange yesterday.
“The thing is, Jack, you can never get rid of us. We will always be your family, no
matter if you become a pompous prince and live halfway across Europe. But none of
us wants you to go.”

Jack had experienced a curious tightness in his chest, knowing that he had his family’s
undying support.

“You will fit into our throng admirably,” he told Sophie now.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Instinct. And observation as well. I witnessed the welcome Ash’s new wife received.”

Maura had fit into the Wilde clan as if she’d always belonged. Jack felt almost as
if he had gained a new sister. He had no doubt Sophie would complement their ranks
just as well.

“If my mother were here, I know she would have approved of my choice of brides.”

That startled Sophie a little. “Why do you think so?”

“You have her same strength.”

His mother had been a rebel, determined to follow her own dreams—albeit with the financial
fortune to live as she chose. While perhaps not as independent or wealthy as Lady
Clara had been, Sophie was a rebel in her own way. He just had to convince her.

“You have my mother’s smile, did you know?”

“Do I?”

Jack had only recently realized that interesting truth. He remembered the warmth of
that enchanting smile from when he was quite young. Perhaps that
was why he’d felt a remarkable familiarity with Sophie from the very beginning.

There were significant differences, of course. His mother had lived a life of scandal;
he didn’t want scandal or shame for Sophie. His mother had given her life for love;
he couldn’t bear to think of that fate for Sophie. But it was tempting to think he
could have the same kind of passionate love his mother had known.

“Come here, sweeting,” he murmured, spreading his legs to make room for Sophie in
his embrace.

She obeyed without speaking. Drawing her back against his chest, Jack rested his chin
on the crown of her head and breathed deeply of her fragrance. They sat there like
that, gazing at the pool with its spritely waterfall. Holding her this way, in the
sheltering circle of his arms, he was conscious of a deep radiating pleasure.

Sophie belonged in his arms; his conviction was stronger than ever. Somehow he would
make her acknowledge that irrevocable bond between them.

After a time, he reached up to unpin the intricate knot of hair coiled at her nape,
smoothing the tresses that fell around her shoulders. He left the crown of flowers
as he combed his fingers through the luminous curls.

Then bending nearer, he murmured against her ear. “I want to be your lover always,
Sophie. I want you in my bed every night as my wife.”

Turning her head, she stared back at him, her expression soft but conflicted. She
wanted him, Jack knew, but he was less certain that her ardor matched his. The urgency
inside him had grown more intense
over the past few days, as had the nagging fear that he would lose her.

When he slid his hand upward to cup her breast, the breathy sigh she gave made warmth
stir in his groin. Then Sophie turned fully in his arms and met his lips with an urgency
of her own.

Jack felt a rush of desire powerful enough to make him shudder. Wanting lashed at
him. He wanted to undress her at once and explore her with his mouth. He wanted to
spend countless hours bringing her to ecstasy. He wanted her beautiful eyes dazed
with passion, her body frenzied as he took her.…

Reaching up, he unbuttoned her bodice to bare her breasts and then laid her back on
the quilt. His senses feasted on her … the glorious cloud of dark hair … the alluring
curves of her breasts … the pale, smooth skin that blushed golden in the sunlight.

There had always been a sensual grace about Sophie, a natural radiance that had drawn
him from the first, but her glow was even more pronounced now.

Needing to touch her so badly that he ached with it, Jack raised her skirts, exposing
the sleek length of her thighs, the evocative swell of her hips, the soft nest of
curls between her legs, the beckoning mound that hid her damp sex.

She was already aroused and swollen, he discovered upon touching her. He rubbed her
ripe softness, then slid his fingers inside her, finding sleek wet satin. Sophie arched
up, straining against him, hungry for more. Determined to oblige her, he bent down
and kissed her mouth again, drinking of her sweetness as he stroked, teased, wooed.

In response to her soft whimpers, he moved his fingers
deeper to heighten her pleasure, surging and withdrawing rhythmically … until she
shuddered in a heated rush and gave a final wild cry deep in her throat. He held her
secure as she came apart for him.

Afterward, he soothed her with his lips, inhaling the scent of her skin, relishing
her passion.

Long moments later, when her trembling faded, Sophie watched him with dazed eyes as
he unbuttoned his breeches.

“You have the most splendid eyes,” he marveled. “Sometimes sapphire, sometimes violet,
always beautiful …”