Authors: Tanya Anne Crosby
Tags: #Historical Romance, #Love Story, #America, #England
Kissed; Christian (40 page)
They had precious little to say about Jack MacAuley at the university, but from what Sophie had gleaned from sources close to her father was that he was a pretender of sorts.
An Irish immigrant, his father had belonged to Boston’s growing fraternity of new money. Mr. MacAuley had apparently received his inheritance this past year, on his father’s death, and had already squandered most of it on this venture, deemed politely, by his peers, as reckless.
Sophie didn’t give a fig whether his comrades respected him or not. Nor did she care if his theories were poppycock, or if he was taken seriously by respectable academia. None of that was any of her concern.
She only wanted passage aboard his ship.
Jack MacAuley himself was of no consequence to her—nor was any other man for that matter. She’d had quite enough of them all. They could go to the devil!
The Miss Deed, they’d informed her, was scheduled to depart sometime today or tomorrow, and Sophie fretted she would miss it.
Just to be certain she didn’t give Jack MacAuley any reason at all to waver in his consideration, she came prepared with her bags packed. She wasn’t about to go home without having accomplished what she’d set out to do. Somehow it was crucial to her sense of self-worth that she salvage her pride. She also had tucked away in her purse a considerable sum that she intended to use as
persuasion
, and she was prepared to offer quite a bit more if necessary. In fact, she felt so confident that she had gone so far as to open a small account in Jack MacAuley’s name and had already placed the sum of five thousand dollars in it. And there was more where that came from if she should need it, but she had learned a thing or two in all these years of watching her father’s ruthless negotiations. She intended to offer enough and no more. It was good business sense all around, she decided. Jack MacAuley needed the money, and she needed passage. It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement for both.
She’d left her trunks in he carriage, under the driver’s watchful eye, while she’d set out on foot to find the elusive Miss Deed, and she was heartily glad she had done so because the docks were a crush. She scarcely could move amid the swarming crowd of workmen, passengers, fishermen and pickpockets.
A particularly dirty little boy of about thirteen latched on to her purse and tugged with all his might. With such a precious lot of money in her possession Sophie was far too vigilant to fall victim to his thievery. She jerked her purse back and the boy went stumbling onto his backside. He peered up at her in surprise. Before she could say a thing, he scampered to his feet and scurried away.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” she shouted at his back, and then guilt pricked her. She had so much and the poor boy had so little. If there hadn’t been quite so much money involved she might have just given it to him. He disappeared into the masses, leaving behind only a greasy stain on her silk ivory purse where his grimy hand had been.
“Damnation,” she muttered to herself, brushing off her purse. Good girls didn’t curse, but she was privately picking up the habit and it felt quite good somehow. She would feel even better once she plucked her darling fiancé’s head as bald as a baby’s bottom!
During the struggle she had dropped her address card on the ground and she bent to retrieve it. They had given her a port address that seemed to be all wrong. Lifting the card, she inspected the ships at anchor ... The Lady Ann ... The Alaskan ... The Prodigious ... no Miss Deed ... but the address was near, she was certain.
“Pardon me, sir,” she said to a passing gentleman.
Apparently he was in too much of a hurry to be bothered, because he kept walking, though not without casting her a harried glance.
Sophie glared indignantly at his back, loathing men all the more in that instant.
The caw of seabirds filled the air as she turned once more to inspect the crowd. Spying someone who appeared as though he belonged on the docks, Sophie lifted her skirts and hurried after a shortish fellow with sun- bleached hair who stood leaning against a lamppost smoking a cigarette.
“Sir!” she called out, waving at him. As she neared, he tossed down his smoke and tamped it out, then turned and walked away, blatantly ignoring her.
Sophie gasped in outrage, unaccustomed to such outright rudeness!
“Sir!” she shouted a bit louder than before, and started after him, deciding he must not have heard her. No one had ever just ignored her! Still he didn’t turn, merely continued along his merry way, walking at a brisker pace, and Sophie couldn’t keep up. She spun abruptly, confused, and smacked into something solid that hadn’t been there previously.
She banged her cheekbone against a chin. “Ouch!” she cried. A strong arm caught her before she had the chance to bounce back onto her rear.
It was a man.
“Oh my!”
Very definitely a man!
His shirt was unbuttoned and left undone. That was the first thing she noticed, blinking. For an instant she was transfixed by the sight of a very well-defined, very muscular chest, smooth and bronzed by the sun.
The summer heat dizzied her—at least she thought it was the heat. “Oh my!” she said again.
She stood there an instant too long, dumbfounded, rubbing her cheek with one hand while clutching the address to her breast with the other.
“Pardon,” he said, with some surprise.
“Pardon m-me,” Sophie stammered, but had yet to look into his face. His bare chest held her transfixed.
Good Lord, didn’t they arrest people for running about that way? Her cheeks warming, she glanced up finally, peering into the most vivid green eyes she had ever seen in all her life ... green eyes that were crinkled with amusement—at her expense, no doubt.
Sophie wasn’t in the mood. And yet it
was
her fault. She had run into him.
She knew she must appear addle-pated, but she couldn’t help it. Not even her father had bared himself so shamelessly before her an as an only child she had no brothers.
Flustered, she stared up at the man who held her steady in his arms, despising him if only for his gender.
He had the audacity to grin at her.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, wriggling free of his scandalous embrace. “Do you mind, sir!”
His hands dropped at his sides and she cast him a disapproving glance.
“Not at all,” he answered much too glibly, and he had the audacity to wink. “Indeed, it was my pleasure,” he added, and his lips curved into the most infuriating smirk she had ever spied.
Sophie gasped softly, her cheeks flaming. Outrage tied her tongue. She hated being reduced to an impotent rage.
“Sir, you are no gentleman!” she exclaimed, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Madam,” he replied, mocking her, “I never claimed to be.”
Sophie took a step backward, gathering her composure. Somehow it didn’t give her the distance she needed.
“I do believe they’ve a phrase for your state of undress,” she said as coolly as she was able. “It’s called indecent exposure! And I believe you could be arrested for it!”
His grin widened. “Oh, really?” His tawny brows arched in obvious amusement, irritating her all the more.
Cad!
Sophie cocked her head in reproach. “I suppose you think that’s quite amusing?”
“Actually,” he replied, affecting a mock-serious expression and tone, “yes, I do.” But his eyes fairly twinkled with good humor and she wanted nothing more in that instant than to box him in the nose! If there had ever been anyone in her life that she had taken an instant dislike to, it was this man without a doubt!
“You are an arrogant churl!”
“And you are blushing, Miss ...”
“My name is none of your concern! I most certainly am not blushing!” Sophie countered, but she was, in fact, because she could feel it. Her hand went to her cheek and she rose on her tiptoes to face him squarely. “However, even if I were, sir, you are quite rude for pointing it out!”
He swiped at his chin, and lifted a brow. “Are you aware that you spit when you yell?”
“Ohhh!” Sophie exclaimed, infuriated. “I most certainly do not!,
spit
” She shuddered with outrage. “Why am I talking to you?” she asked herself, frustrated, and dismissed him at once. “If you will excuse me, sir, I have business to attend!”
She didn’t bother to ask him about the address she was looking for. She attempted to go around him to the left, but he apparently had the same instinct. When she moved to the right, so did he.
Exasperated, Sophie glared at him and, without thinking, lifted her hand to his bare chest, standing him off.
“Please, sir!” she begged, and realized at once where she had touched him. She jerked her hand away as though his flesh singed her.
He merely chuckled in reply, and Sophie felt hot with indignation. She glowered at him, and if she could have barreled through him in that instant, she would have. She slid past him and didn’t look back, even as his robust laughter followed her.
She’d be quite glad never to set eyes on that man again! Rude, infuriating creature!
Even if he did have the most incredible green eyes she had ever had the misfortune to peer into, he was the most common wretch she had ever met!
“Miss!” he called after her. Sophie’s heart fluttered at the sound of his voice, but she refused to turn. She kept walking, clutching her ... purse—oh, God, where was her purse!
She spun about, her heart leaping into her throat, and found him standing there smiling incorrigibly, dangling her purse, with its precious burden, from a single finger.
“I think you dropped something,” he said, his tone rife with repressed laughter, his green eyes glinting.
Without a word, Sophie marched toward him and snatched her purse from his hand, then turned and left.
It was men like that, she decided, that made her eternally grateful to be a woman! She didn’t know why Harlan was so obsessed with discovering primitive man. All he had to do was look about him: In Sophie’s estimation, mankind had not progressed very far!
Want to keep reading Jack's story? Buy
Happily Ever After
try these others by Tanya Anne Crosby...
Peter (
Perfect In My Sight
)
Cutter (
Sagebrush Bride
)
Christian (
Kissed
)
Married at Midnight
Coming fall 2014
Highland Steel
Tanya has written seventeen novels, all of which have graced numerous bestseller lists including the
New York Times
and
USA Today
. Best known for stories charged with emotion and humor, and filled with flawed characters, her novels have garnered reader praise and glowing critical reviews. She lives with her husband, two dogs and two moody cats in northern Michigan.
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