Her Sweetest Fortune. Stella Bagwell

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Her Sweetest Fortune - Stella Bagwell Mills & Boon Cherish

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and everything about the effervescent glow in her eyes. “Tell me, Sophie, what does a woman like you dream about?”

      Her cheeks turned a darker pink. A telltale sign that when he’d walked up on her a few moments ago, she’d been thinking about a man. What else could put that sort of spaced out look on a woman’s face?

      She shrugged one slender shoulder and the slight movement caused Mason’s gaze to dip from her face to the curve of her breasts pushing against the magenta colored top, then farther downward to where a close fitting black skirt stopped just above her knees and a pair of strappy high heels covered her small feet.

      “Oh, I dream about lots of things,” she said. “Like work and travel and family. But mostly I dream about—”

      His eyes lifted to see a smile tilting the corners of her soft, pink lips. As Mason studied the moist curves, he felt the sudden urge to clear his throat.

      “About what?” he prodded.

      Her gaze dropped shyly from his. “Finding true love like some of my brother and sisters. They’re married and happy and planning families of their own.” She sighed. “But I need the right man for that. And I think I’ve found him.”

      The right man. Austin, Texas was full of eligible bachelors, but he couldn’t imagine any of them being good enough for Sophie. So who could possibly be the right man for this pampered princess, he wondered, while attempting to swat away a stab of foolish jealousy.

      Folding his arms against his chest, he hoped he appeared cool instead of moonstruck. “Does the lucky guy know he’s targeted yet?”

      With a nervous little laugh, she said, “Uh, not exactly. But I’m planning on letting him know soon. Very soon.”

      It was stupid of Mason to feel deflated, but he did. Sophie could fly to any place in the world anytime she wanted. The man who’d caught her eye could be in Paris or London, anywhere besides Austin. “Do I know this guy?”

      She picked up a pencil and tapped it against a notepad. As Mason looked at her dainty hands with their perfectly manicured fingernails, he doubted she’d ever had to lift more than a pencil. But to her credit, she and her siblings contributed long hours to their father’s company, even though their financial security had been set the day they’d been born.

      She said, “I’m not ready to name names, but yes, you certainly know him. He’s handsome and very smart. And has a great job here at Robinson Tech.”

      Hey, she could be describing him, Mason thought hopefully. He was smart and certain people had told him he was handsome. He also had a great job with the company.

      “Sounds like a nice guy,” Mason admitted.

      A wistful smile put a foggy look in her brown eyes. “Oh, he’s very nice. And practically oozes charisma. When my guy walks into a room all the women catch their breath and stare. And wish he belonged to them.”

      Dang. That definitely crossed him off the list of possibilities. Though finding a date for himself wasn’t exactly as difficult as moving a mountain, Mason hardly had women swooning at his feet. He was the one with the shoulder they wanted to cry on. The one they came running to whenever some reckless rebel threw them over for a biker chick or rich cougar. Always the friend, but rarely the lover. That was good ole Mason.

      “Nadine, one of my coworkers, says there are plenty of hunky men working in this building. Your guy must be one of them,” he said.

      A sly look crossed her face. “He’s definitely suave. But he has an edge about him, too. Just enough to keep a woman guessing. Without making him too complex, that is.”

      Thom Nichols. Damn it! She was talking about that phony, two-timing womanizer who ate women for breakfast and spit their bones to his Doberman pinscher. But Mason could hardly express his opinion about the man to Sophie. He’d learned long ago that putting down a boyfriend was not the way to score points with a woman.

      Clearing his throat, he asked, “Do you really think any man could be as perfect as you’re making this one out to be?”

      The long sigh she released troubled Mason greatly. Even if he didn’t have a chance in a million with this woman, he’d hate to see her hurt by lothario Thom.

      “Well, I think he’s perfect for me,” she reasoned. “And Valentine’s Day will be here in a couple of weeks. By then I plan to have Mr. Right exactly where I want him.”

      She patted the side of her hip, but rather than envisioning Thom standing next to Sophie, Mason was visualizing himself at her side. And suddenly he was determined to make the image come true. She might be thinking of Thom as her Mr. Right, but Mason was going to do everything possible to make her see she was all wrong about the plastic marketing strategist. And that Mason was her real Mr. Right.

      Placing the amethyst back on a neat stack of legal papers, Mason straightened away from the desk. “Well, it’s getting really late and I still have a few things to do at home before the morning gets here and everything starts over.”

      “You should get yourself a maid,” Sophie suggested. “You’d be surprised by how much she’d ease your workload.”

      Mason was thinking he’d much rather have a woman to warm his bed than a maid to clean his house. Preferably one with long brown hair, killer legs and a waist that would fit right between his two hands.

      Grinning, he winked at her and started out of the cubicle. “No thanks,” he tossed over his shoulder. “I’ll just eat more spinach.”

      * * *

      “Have you lost your mind, Sophie? You, of all people, chasing after a man! I just don’t get it.”

      She glared at her sister Olivia, who’d made herself comfortable in one of the matching wingchairs in the sitting area of Sophie’s enormous bedroom suite. Even though Olivia had recently moved into a place of her own, she often stopped by the Robinson estate to visit. Sophie had always admired her older sister and often sought her advice on personal matters. Only moments earlier, Sophie had confided her plans to snare Thom Nichols and much to her chagrin, Olivia had immediately exploded with protests.

      “No. You wouldn’t understand,” Sophie said, trying to keep the bite of sarcasm from her voice. “You don’t have the same dreams that I do. You don’t care if you ever have a man in your life.”

      Sighing, Olivia crossed her legs, as though talking sense to her younger sister was going to be a long, arduous endeavor. “We’re not talking about me, Sophie. This is about you. You making a fool of yourself by chasing after a man.”

      Hadn’t their own mother made a fool of herself by living with a man who’d cheated on her for years? Sophie felt like flinging the nasty question at Olivia, but bit it back instead. It wasn’t her place to judge either of her parents for the artificial state of their marriage. For some reason Sophie couldn’t fathom, the two remained steadfastly together. Even so, the connection between her mother and father was about as warm as a trip to Antarctica. And Sophie was determined that she would never settle for such a cold relationship with a man.

      “I’m not actually going to chase him,” Sophie corrected as she walked over to the double doors that opened to an enormous walk-in closet. “I’m just going to give him a little nudge—a reminder that I’m in the building and available.”

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