The Sweetest Challenge

by Marie Higgins

  He grinned. Whether or not this pretty Miss realized it, she had let him know who this Judith was...just in case he needed to find this young beauty after tonight. “Then I hope you think of me as saving you from being bound to a chair.”

  She glanced down at his hand still clutching hers. “You have saved me. I fear I would have fallen asleep from boredom in there.”

  “Boredom? Oh, I think not. Why would such a lovely woman become bored at a masked ball? Just think of all the mischief she could create.”

  “Like now?” Her eyebrows lifted.

  “Indeed. Now is the perfect time.”

  “Well, if not for your suggestion, I wouldn’t have even thought of creating mischief. In fact, the only thing going through my mind would have been how to leave the party without offending my friend.”

  “We cannot have that, can we?” He took a step closer to her, sliding his hand around to her back. She tilted her head to keep her attention on him. “Why do you not enjoy balls like most young women?”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps I’m not like most young women.”

  “How intriguing.” He slid his hand slightly up her back. “Pray tell, why are you not like them? Do you dare divulge your secret?”

  “Let’s just say that I’m not a social type of person.”

  “But you have been conversing just fine so far.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not shy, I just don’t like large gatherings.”

  Nodding, he sighed with relief. Surprisingly, she was a lot like him. “I understand that very well.”

  She tilted her head as a smirk crossed her expression. “Are you saying that we are alike in that way?”

  “Indeed, I am. Strange to think we are so similar, is it not?”

  “Very strange.”

  He found it odd how quickly she was enchanting him. Maybe it was because she wasn’t like other women. But whatever it was, he enjoyed the pull of attraction and the spark of interest between them.

  He lifted her hand to his mouth as he brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Would it be too bold of me if I ask you to tell me your first name?”

  “Just my first name?”

  “Yes. I would like to know the name of the woman I’m going to kiss.”

  She paused for a few long seconds. Her throat lurched as if she swallowed hard, and then she licked her lips.

  “Melinda.”

  “Such a pretty name.”

  “And you, Sir...will you tell me the name of the man who I will allow to bestow a kiss on my lips?”

  His heart did a crazy little flip. He stared at her mouth as he drew closer. “Morgan,” he whispered before placing his mouth over hers.

  The spark between them grew in leaps and bounds. A deep sigh escaped her throat as she melted. He wrapped both arms around her to keep her up against him so personally. But perhaps that wasn’t a good idea, because his body buzzed with excitement and the heat of excitement climbed higher.

  He wanted to keep the kiss simple as not to startle her. But her body was so soft and she clung to him like she never wanted to let him go. It was more than that, because her lips were completely compliant, nearly taking his breath away. How could he keep the kiss simple now?

  Her hands moved up his chest to link around his neck, which brought them closer. Her ragged breaths melded with his as her bosom moved against his. Surprisingly enough, the rhythm of her heart matched his perfectly.

  Morgan shifted his hand to her face, stroking her jaw gently until her mouth opened. Then he took the kiss further, tilting his mouth over hers for a deeper, more intimate show of affection. Instead of a sigh, a low moan rattled in her throat and she tightened her arms around him. He loved hearing those passionate sounds from her. Loved it too much, especially when it came from someone he didn’t even know.

  The way his heartbeat hammered so quickly was unsafe. The way she met his urgent kisses was even more dangerous. In fact, he was contemplating how to pull her to the ground and cover her body intimately with his. He needed to break this incredible moment now before his emotions became involved. And most definitely, they would.

  Having a relationship with a woman now was out of the question. He was about to put together another huge business deal and he couldn’t be sidetracked. A woman this lovely and passionate would distract him in the worst way.

  “Melinda,” he mumbled against her mouth, slowly breaking the kiss. “I fear we must stop.”

  He kept hold of her shoulders as she blinked her eyes open. Passion was still etched on her face, tempting him to kiss her again. But he held strong.

  Melinda’s expression changed quickly. Embarrassment darkened her cheeks and she pulled away. “Oh, please forgive me—”

  “Shh,” he took her back in his arms. “There is nothing to forgive. The kiss we shared was very natural, and I enjoyed it immensely. However, I feared if we didn’t stop, I would never want to stop. Unfortunately, under the tree isn’t someplace I would like to get caught in an intimate embrace.”

  Her face relaxed and the corners of her mouth lifted. “I enjoyed it, as well.” She took a deep breath. “And you are correct. Getting caught out here is not a good thing.”

  “Then shall we return to the party?” He stepped back and held out his elbow for her to take.

  She shook her head. “We’d better not return together. It might create gossip.”

  “Of course, you are wise to think that.” He motioned his hand ahead of him. “I’ll let you go in first.”

  “I’ll go back around the house and enter the same door I came out of.”

  “Excellent idea.”

  She hesitated before leaving, but then she suddenly turned toward him, leaned up, and kissed him on the mouth again. Before he could react, she had stepped away and headed toward the house.

  Morgan grinned. He couldn’t wait to find out more about her. Although she’d be a distraction, perhaps that was what he needed while he put the business deal together. He was certain the person who owned the land he wanted to purchase was going to fight him every step of the way, so he needed something—or someone—that could make him smile.

  Melinda was definitely the woman who could put him at ease.

  SHE COULDN’T GO BACK inside to the ball. Not now.

  Melinda frowned as she stood in front of the door she’d previously exited from. If she went inside, she would be forced to dance with other men, and even converse with them. How could anyone compare to the elation she’d just experienced?

  To make it worse, she would have to watch him dance and converse with other women. That just wouldn’t do. She was a possessive woman...and she had a temper.

  At midnight, they would unmask and she’d see the real Morgan. And he’d see the real Melinda. He’d see the woman she presented at the ball, but it wouldn’t be Melinda Stewart.

  What if he actually came looking for her tomorrow? Somehow he knew Judith, so he would certainly ask about her. Eventually, he would find out she wasn’t like most women. Far from it, in fact. Sadly, she didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on his face.

  There was only one thing to do. Turn around, climb back in the hackney, and have it return her home. She’d have to leave a message with one of the servants first as not to worry Judith. But home was the best place to be tonight.

  The safest place for her heart to be.

  She opened the door and peeked inside. Just her luck, there was a servant nearby. She moved to the older man with white hair and pulled lightly on his sleeve. “Pardon me, but I need you to relay a message to someone in the party for me.”

  He nodded.

  “I need you to find Lady Judith Woodland.” Melinda gazed across the crowd until she saw her friend. “That’s her right there—the blonde woman wearing the silver and black mask with matching gown.”

  “Yes, I see her.”

  “Splendid. Will you give her a message for me? Tell her that Melinda Stewart had to go home. Tell her I’ll explain things to
her tomorrow.”

  The older man nodded. “I will give her the message.”

  “I thank you for your assistance.”

  She turned to leave out the door, but the servant tapped her on the arm, stopping her.

  “Miss? Do you want me to fetch your cloak?”

  Just as she opened her mouth to reply, a movement from the other side of the room caught her attention. Morgan slowly strolled in through the back doors. Seeing him again in the light made her heart flutter. Indeed, she needed to leave immediately before something inside of her begged her to stay and dance with him again.

  “No. I didn’t bring a cloak,” she lied.

  Before he could stop her again, she hurried through the door and toward the waiting coaches. When she found her hackney, she quickly climbed inside. “Take me home,” she instructed the driver before closing the door.

  As the vehicle pulled away from the estate, she removed her mask, turned and watched out of the small window. Sadness tugged at her heart, but she knew she was doing the right thing. Staying and getting to know Morgan would have been disastrous. Her heart couldn’t take any more heartbreak. Too many men had entered her life and quickly left when they found out what she did for a living. Men could not take a blacksmith seriously because she was a woman, which was why she chose to dress like a man.

  Until her brother could take over the business by himself, there was nothing left for her to do but work in the shop. Her father had struggled to build the business, and she wasn’t going to let him down. Their small family had been put through enough in the last five years, and she didn’t want to add to the burden. After their mother died, her father struggled to make ends meet because of his melancholy. Melinda did the best she could to help him since Jake was too young, but it still wasn’t good enough. Then a year ago, a man came to her father and tried to buy their home. She didn’t understand why he had needed it, because it wasn’t a grand house at all. Apparently, he was buying up the houses on that whole street to turn the area into a fancy hotel.

  Her father fought the inconsiderate man the best he could, but eventually, the stress weakened his heart and he died. The man finally was able to buy their house then, which left Melinda and Jake to live at the shop. Afraid that someone would try to take their blacksmith business away, she decided to dress like a man and continue in the same manner her father would have. She hoped her father was smiling down from Heaven, knowing she was trying to keep everything together.

  When the hackney finally stopped in front of the shop, she paid the driver, climbed down and hurried into the back section of the building they had fixed to be their home. Jake sat on her father’s old chair with his leg propped up on the footrest, reading a book. His head jerked up when she entered, and his eyes widened.

  “What are you doing home so soon? Don’t you know that Cinderella has until midnight?”

  She chuckled lightly and shrugged, twirling the mask on her finger. “Well, this particular Cinderella became bored, so she came home.”

  Frowning, he shook his head. “You really need to start acting more like a lady and doing the things they like to do. You are beginning to worry me.”

  “Not to fret, dear brother. I shall act accordingly once I can see you’re capable of running the blacksmith shop by yourself.” She walked closer to the chair he was lounged in, and pointed to his bandaged leg and then to the crutches resting against the wall. “Which means waiting until you’ve passed your clumsy years and have finally become a man.”

  He groaned and sank further into the chair. “I’m nearly ten and eight.”

  “Yes, but you are as careless as a boy in his tenth year.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You are just too overprotective. You act like my mother.”

  “That’s because you still need a mother,” she snapped. “As soon as you can show me that you’re responsible and can handle the shop by yourself, I’ll start acting like a lady again.”

  He laughed. “I actually think you enjoy being a blacksmith.”

  She hesitated in answering. The sad truth was, she did enjoy it. Working with her father’s tools brought back memories of when she was young and used to watch him shoe someone’s horse or repair their carriage. “Nevertheless, I would like to eventually give that up and become a lady. So, I suggest you get healed quickly and learn how to be more responsible.”

  “Whatever you say, Mother,” he whined.

  Shaking her head, she left him to retire to her room. Once she closed the door, she leaned back against the thick piece of wood and sighed. Just like Cinderella, she’d met a wonderful man, and following Cinderella’s example, Melinda was back in her house by midnight, feeling lonely again.

  THREE

  Morgan wasn’t having a very good day.

  Of course, it didn’t help that last evening had ended terribly. When he’d returned to the masked ball and searched for Melinda, he couldn’t find her. He asked around trying to find Lady Woodland, and when he finally located her, she told him Melinda wasn’t feeling well and had returned home.

  He’d been in an irritable mood ever since she’d left the ball. His associates at the party couldn’t even help his sour disposition. Her refusal to see him again injured his pride more than anything.

  Morgan shifted on his horse and frowned. He had really felt connected with Melinda, and he thought she’d felt the same. Why else had she returned his passionate kisses? If she had enjoyed herself, why did she suddenly flee? Although he wanted to forget about what had happened between them, he feared she wouldn’t leave his mind until he could bring closure to their evening once and for all.

  He was the type of man who couldn’t leave things alone unless he found some answers.

  Urging his horse faster, Morgan gritted his teeth. He’d try to put his worries about Melinda aside for today, especially while negotiating with Mr. Mel Stewart who owned one of the blacksmith shops in Mayfair. Morgan had been eyeing this particular piece of land for nearly a year. Because of the location and the rich soil, this would make the perfect spot for one of his wealthy clients. Sir Fitzgerald paid very well, and he only wanted the best. Unfortunately, Mr. Stewart was being hardheaded and wouldn’t respond to the many missives Morgan had sent in hopes of getting the man to sell. Of course, that made Morgan only more determined to win. Why couldn’t the man see his blacksmith’s shop was losing money? It would be in Mr. Stewart’s best interest to accept Morgan’s generous offer.

  He reached the shop in good time, and dismounted. The echoing sounds of pings coming from inside the building let Morgan know the man was working today. The building’s appearance impressed him. Most blacksmith’s shop weren’t as nice. In the research Morgan had done in regards to this shop, he’d discovered the place was losing money. Yet, looking at it now, he couldn’t really tell because everything looked so well taken care of.

  He opened the door and walked in. Once again, he was surprised to see how clean Mr. Stewart kept his shop. Usually businesses like this were untidy with dirt and metal pieces scattered everywhere. But not this place. Hard to believe, but even the tools had their own location, hanging neatly on the wall. There was even a spot to hang the leather aprons. Amazing!

  He moved his gaze toward the sound of the pings. A man, who Morgan assumed was Mr. Stewart, stood near a large hearth. Large flames licked the stone walls as the man leaned over a grate and hammered something on top of an anvil. Upon the man’s head was the oddest form of headgear Morgan had ever seen.

  As he stepped closer, he examined the odd looking hat. His first impression was that it was a Medieval helmet, and yet the closer he came, he could tell the material appeared as if it were made of some type of heavy cloth. But it wasn’t the helmet that made Morgan curious. It was the strange looking glasses the man wore.

  It was quite an ingenious makeshift head covering, especially for someone who worked near hot fires in this particular business. On the man’s hands were leather gloves that not only covered his hands, bu
t rode up his arm to his elbows. The brown leather apron was something Morgan had seen other blacksmith’s wear, but the other parts of his attire were certainly different...and most interesting.

  He cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Mr. Stewart. May I have a moment of your time?”

  When the man continued to strike the hammer against the object on the anvil, Morgan tried again. This time, he tapped the other man on the shoulder. “Mr. Stewart?”

  The man jumped and spun around toward Morgan, still holding onto the hammer. The man straightened, and Morgan was surprised to see how small Mr. Stewart really was. The man’s head touched the top of Morgan’s shoulders. Then again, it didn’t matter his height, as long as he was strong and could handle the tasks given to him in order to keep his blacksmith’s shop in business.

  There was a clear object hanging from the man’s helmet, shielding his face, but Morgan could still see the man’s expression. Mr. Stewart’s mouth hung open and his eyes widened. He could also tell that the man was younger than Morgan had first assumed.

  He crinkled his forehead. Had they met before? By Mr. Stewart’s surprised expression, it certainly seemed like the man knew him.

  “Pardon me for interrupting,” Morgan began. “My name is Mr. Drake, and I’m with Drake Land Developers. If you don’t mind, I would like to discuss the offer my company made you a few months ago.”

  Suddenly, the surprised expression on the other man changed, and his gaze narrowed on Morgan. The man threw down the hammer and stomped past him.

  “No!”

  Morgan held in his frustration the best he could. “Mr. Stewart, I thought we could discuss this matter like two reasonable men.”

  “Then you thought wrong.” The man’s voice croaked in a lower tone as he marched to one of the tables and picked up a chisel.

  Morgan held back the angry words he really wanted to say as he fisted his hands by his sides. “Mr. Stewart, I would really like to talk to you. I’ve come to offer you a better deal.”