The Gold Collection: A Bride For The Taking. Maggie Cox
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THE sudden thumping on the front door reverberated warningly through the house like the violent rumble of thunder heralding a storm. Clutching the folds of her dress anxiously to her chest, Sophia’s blood turned to ice. Who on earth would bang on her door like that in the middle of the night unless something was terribly wrong?
Her thoughts naturally flew to her son. But surely if something untoward had happened to Charlie, her brother would have notified her with a phone call first? He wouldn’t just turn up out of the blue and knock her door down! The next fear following close on the heels of the first one was that her father-in-law had found her and was waiting outside to confront her with a demand to see his grandson … to take him away from her. What if he’d brought help with him to do just that? She wouldn’t put it past him to hire a couple of heavy-set thugs to accomplish what he was too cowardly to accomplish himself.
When she rose to her feet a surge of adrenalin pumped through her veins, rendering her almost too weak to stand. Quickly slipping her feet into the plain black leather pumps she’d worn to dinner, she stole a cursory glance at the fire now blazing brightly in the grate, thanks to the fresh ash log she’d added, and on the spur of the moment grabbed one of the heavy iron tongs in the stand beside it. Squeezing her eyes shut tight for a moment, she murmured a quick heartfelt prayer beneath her breath, then left the room to step out into the dark, cavernous hallway that led to the front door.
The porch light there had automatically come on, and she nearly fainted with fright at the sight of the tall shadow that loomed up behind the decorated glass panels.
‘Sophia! Sophia, are you there? It’s me, Jarrett.’
‘Oh, my God.’ Her reaction was as though someone had careened into her back with a battering ram. Her body felt weak and winded all at the same time.
Trembling hard, but this time with relief instead of stark cold fear, she laid the heavy iron tongs carefully down on the floor, glad to be free of their threatening weight now that she knew that she wouldn’t have to employ them in self-defence. But her heart still pounded at the realisation that her night-time visitor was Jarrett … the man whose presence she’d been desperately longing for ever since she’d decided not to invite him in for coffee.
With fumbling fingers she undid the latch and the bolts at the top and bottom of the door. By the time the cool night air rushed in to greet her and she came face to face with her visitor Sophia hardly had the strength to hold herself upright. The shock she’d received at the pounding of the door had robbed her of every ounce.
‘Are you okay? Tell me!’
Jarrett’s face looked pale, haunted almost … as if he too had received the most disturbing shock. The dim porch light highlighted the hard cobalt glitter of his mesmerising gaze.
Fastening his hands round her slim upper arms, he stared down into her face as if to make an urgent assessment of her state of mind. ‘I heard you call out my name as if you were right there beside me. I wasn’t dreaming, Sophia … your voice was as real as can be and you sounded distressed.’
‘What did I say?’
‘You said … you said, “I need you.”’
Had her longing been so powerful that it had transcended time and space and transmitted itself straight to Jarrett?
But even before he’d confessed what he had heard Sophia had already been overwhelmed by the heat and solidity of his reassuring male body, and she couldn’t help breathing out a heartfelt sigh as she gazed steadily up into his eyes. ‘How strange that you heard that. It’s true. I do need you, Jarrett. I had the most terrible nightmare. I dreamt that Tom and his father were coming after me. I haven’t had a dream like that for a long time, and it was even harder to bear after such a nice evening. It really shook me up.’
Her legs buckled a little with the force of emotion that swept through her at the memory of the distressing dream and also at Jarrett’s timely but altogether unexpected appearance … all because he’d had some kind of psychic intuition that she needed him.
Her handsome visitor didn’t hesitate to catch her as her balance faltered, and he lifted her up high into his arms to hold her safely against his chest as though she weighed nothing. Then he carried her into the dimly lit hallway. Its scant illumination came from the warm light that drifted out through the open drawing room door at the end of it. Inside, Sophia had left one small lamp burning, and the fire she had lit to chase away the chill of her nightmare still emitted a welcoming bright blaze.
Kicking the front door shut with the heel of his boot, Jarrett made a beeline for the softly lit room. Once inside, he headed straight for the old-fashioned couch where Sophia had left her quilted eiderdown to drape over her as she slept, and dropped her carefully down onto a cushion, still cradling her in his arms.
‘I’m glad you lit the fire. The warmth and light will help—especially after that nightmare,’ he said with gentle authority, his fingers tenderly brushing back some long skeins of silky chestnut hair that had partially drifted over her face.
His touch was divine. Straight away Sophia sensed a delicious melting sensation in the nether region of her stomach. The scent from his body was sexy, warm and compelling, and the tough denim of his jeans couldn’t disguise the iron hardness of his strong, muscular thighs. He’d already intimately acquainted her with how strong he was, making light work of lifting her up into his arms and carrying her, and since he’d swept her up against his chest even the icy tentacles of the dreadful nightmare that had visited her had lost most of their power to hold her in their chilling grip. Right now the only thing that was unsettling her—but in a good way—was Jarrett.
‘I’m sorry if I frightened you, banging on your door like that, but when I thought you might be in danger I had to come to you.’ The palm of his big warm hand settled against her cheek and tenderly cupped it.
‘I’m glad that you did.’ Her soft voice was a little breathless.
‘Do you want to tell me about the dream? It can sometimes help to dispel the memory if you talk about it rather than just bottle your feelings up inside.’
‘I’d rather not, if you don’t mind. I’m already feeling better because you’re here … honestly.’
A muscle flinched in the side of his unshaven cheek. ‘I’m glad about that. I really am. But you must know that sooner or later you’re going to have to confront this bully of a father-in-law of yours, or else he’ll be intimidating you for the rest of your life … and maybe Charlie’s too.’
‘I know—and you’re right.’ Sophia agreed with a sigh. ‘I do need to confront him, and to let him know that I refuse to be bullied by him any longer. God knows I spent enough miserable years being bullied by his son! The thing that worries me is that he’ll bring the whole weight of the judicial system down on my head until he gets the outcome that he wants—and that’s Charlie.’ She laid her hand over her