“Sophia?” Anne Marie gripped Sophia’s shoulder and gave it a good shake.
“Oh. Um. Yes?” Sophia finally made eye contact.
“I said you didn’t even look.”
“Yes, I’m sorry.” Sophia blinked a few times to refocus her wandering thoughts. “I’ve been out of sorts today.”
That wasn’t a proper description. She was more like lusting. No matter how hard she ignored it, the essence of him was still all over her body. She wanted it all again. Her mind wouldn’t close that hole in her senses. Something churning inside her gut pulled her in his direction. To look in his eyes again. The coolness that was only Xavier. But after the memory of him naked, if that’s what it was, she was terrified of what was to come and what she would learn about that part of her past. That is, if she chose to search it out. It was simple: she was scared.
But if he was the missing link, should she dare get close enough to find out?
“Sophia,” Anne Marie prompted.
“Oh—sorry. I’m picking out my courses for this autumn, and I can’t decide between American Literature or Philosophy.” Sophia rose off her bed and put the book she wasn’t really reading back on the shelf. “In order to graduate—finally—I’ve only got two more courses. I need to choose at least one of these.”
Anne Marie laughed. “If that’s what you’re worried about, then that’s the least of your problems, darling.”
“What do you mean?”
Anne Marie raised a brow and crossed over to her. “You haven’t said anything to me, and I haven’t asked,” she said as she slipped her hand in Sophia’s and gave it a squeeze. “But you know at some point I’m going to want to know about the other night.”
Sophia shook her head and went to speak, but Anne Marie cut her off with a wave of her hand as she turned away and started to shuffle through Sophia’s closet. “Don’t be coy now. The stars you had in your eyes have faded to a blank look that has me concerned.”
“It’s nothing.”
Anne Marie swiveled toward Sophia and cocked her hip. Her green eyes flashed with a knowing look. “You think I’m going to believe that? What’s wrong? Maybe I can help.”
Sophia simply shook her head again. “I don’t think anyone can help with this. Either I’m going mad or I actually do know Xavier.” Which, after saying it out loud, made perfect sense. It would explain the awareness she’d felt from the first moment his eyes had found hers at the fashion show. And maybe the way he always reminded her of the sea.
Anne Marie’s face folded. “What do you mean you know him?”
“When I was with him the other night, I think I saw an old memory of us.”
Anne Marie’s jaw dropped. “Together?”
“Yes, when we were teenagers.”
“But he’s from America. You’ve never been there.”
Sophia shrugged. “I know. That’s what’s so weird. But the memory was clear as day.”
“Here’s a thought, darling: why don’t you ask him about it?”
She wanted to, she really did. If it was the truth and she did know him, she hoped she would be strong enough to embrace it. After all, her memory was the only thing she’d ever really wanted. But, if she did seek it out through him, she didn’t want him to think she was just using him. Not after the way he’d looked at her. Not after the way he’d made her feel. Then again, she guessed she’d already ruined the prospects of any relationship by running out on him the other night. Asking him now surely wouldn’t help.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sophia replied. “He’s probably upset with me. I left him that night without a single explanation.”
“What?”
“It’s complicated. After the memory, I was very confused. So I left.” Sophia hung her head. Now it did sound bad. She already had used him.
Evidently noticing the distress in Sophia’s voice, Anne Marie turned back to the closet and yanked out a dress. “Oh, look at this yellow one! It’s marvelous.” She plucked the dress off the hanger and pressed it to her body. “Have you ever worn it?”
Giggling at the ease with which her friend had changed tune, Sophia looked up and cracked a smile. “No, actually, I haven’t.”
“Oh, but you should! It would go perfectly with your skin and dark hair. Come now.” She jerked Sophia toward the closet. “Try it on. I just have to see it.”
Sophia was amazed at how much better Anne Marie made her feel, even if it was something as simple as a sunny yellow dress.
“All right, but just one.” Though Sophia did like fashion, dress-up wasn’t her cup of tea.
She shed her sweater, leaving on her leggings, and slid the dress on. As Anne Marie zipped up the back, Sophia gazed at herself in the mirror. The dress was quite stunning. Another XS, she mused. Funny how she’d ended up in bed with her favorite designer. It was less funny how it made her feel. She wanted the man and the memories, but she’d already ruined her chances at both. That is, if he’d been part of her past in the first place. At this point, Sophia wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. Now she’d never know.
She smoothed her hands over the front of the dress and noticed how well it hung on her body. The top was snug around her chest with a low-cut V-neck and thick shoulder straps. A wide, bright blue band wrapped around the empire waist, and the material flowed out from there, a mixture of rayon layered with silk. Hanging just above her knees, the dress sang happiness and fun. Sophia wished she felt those things right then.
“It’s perfect,” Anne Marie said with a gleam in her eye. “Turn round for me.”
Sophia obliged by doing a small spin. The dress flung outward and swished around her legs. Feeling like a little girl in her favorite party dress, she twirled around a few more times. Before she knew it, she and Anne Marie were dancing around her room, acting like children playing in the sun on a warm spring day, holding hands and spiraling around. Together they fell to the floor, laughing. Something about being relaxed in the moment made Sophia feel good all over. Sometimes it was nice just to let things go.
“I’ve got an idea,” Anne Marie said as she tried to stop the rolls of laughter. “Let’s take advantage of this sunny day and go to the park and people-watch like we used to.”
Sophia clutched her belly; the laughter had tied it up. “We haven’t done that in years. You remember that one time when we saw that huge Italian family having a picnic and made up an entire life story?”
“Yeah, we made the kids relentless brats, and the poodles ran the household with their demands.”
“Ha, yes, that’s the one,” Sophia said as she started to laugh again. “The wife was a well-to-do, the father a tramp living in-the-moment, and—”
“The butler shagging the maid and the wife.” Anne Marie exhaled a rush of air. “That was a good one, but there are many more where that came from.”
“The park does sound like a good idea.” Bright skies, good memories, and talking with a trusted friend. The perfect time to let the nonsense with Xavier slip away from her. That was for the best. Mixing sex and lust with a complicated past in order to get her memories was not something Sophia could do. “Let me just get changed and we’ll go.”
“Leave the dress on. The weather’s a wee chilly, but you’re wearing leggings. You might want to grab a jumper as well.”
Sophia plucked a thick, white wool cardigan from her closet and slipped on some ankle boots. As they made their way down the stairs, Sophia heard her mother arguing with someone.
“I said she’s not here; now please go,” Katherine said with that all-too-familiar ice in her tone.
“Could you please just tell me where I can find her, then?”
Sophia’s heart almost stopped when Xavier’s voice boomed through the air. The hair on her arms stood up in anticipation. Or was it fear? Hadn’t she been secretly wishing he would come looking for her? Unexpectedly lightheaded, she grabbed the arm of her trusted friend and continued to the bottom of the stairs. It was there she m
et the intense gaze of one Mr. Xavier Cain.
His dark hair was untidy, his shoulders hunched over, and his eyes…Oh my. Sophia strained to suppress the ping of guilt washing over her. His beautiful crystal-blue eyes were dark. The circles beneath them aged him years. He looked like he’d been up for days.
“Sophia,” he said with a rasp as she took the last step.
The simple whisper of her name chilled her to the bone. She wouldn’t ignore him. He was there on her doorstep; he had tracked her down that far. A rescue was what she secretly dreamed of, but the fear of his wounded gaze touched her deeply.
“Mother,” Sophia said warily, trying to keep her voice from quivering. “Is he here to see me?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then why were you telling him I wasn’t here?”
“Dear, we have already gone over this.” Katherine’s lips formed a thin line.
“Indeed we have.” Sophia walked past her mother and stood next to Xavier. Their arms brushed, and the flash of intimacy abruptly clouded her mind. “We needn’t go over it again. And we won’t in front of our guest. Now please excuse us.”
“But—”
“Please,” Sophia said with more confidence. “Don’t worry about me. I shouldn’t have to remind you again that I am a grown woman.”
Katherine’s expression contorted to shock, much like it had that night at the charity auction. “Fine, but remember I warned you.” She stole a quick, dismissive glance at Xavier before storming out of the foyer.
Sophia looked over at Anne Marie, who, of course, had a devious grin on her face.
“Well.” Anne Marie eyed Xavier closely and gave a nod of approval. “I’ll just leave you two alone. Sophia, I’ll be in the kitchen fanning your mum. Let me know when you’re ready to go.”
Standing alone and side-by-side in the foyer, Sophia realized how close she was to Xavier, so she took a step back. Being next to him and looking him in the face made it hard to breathe, hard to think. She hadn’t thought she would have to explain her actions, and now it didn’t seem there was anything else to do but confront the truth.
“Follow me,” she said as she led Xavier to the sitting room. She didn’t feel much like sitting, so she walked over to a floor-to-ceiling window, glanced out at the soon-to-be blooming rose garden below, and turned to face him.
Xavier loomed several feet away. His eyes were sharp yet oddly sad and intently focused on her. His shoulders weren’t hunched any more; they were broad beneath the crumpled white shirt he wore. His expression was stretched tight.
Bloody hell. How was she supposed to explain this to him when he looked like both a wounded puppy and raging bull at the same time?
She had looked like an angel descending from the heavens when she’d come down the stairs. She had absolutely glowed in yet another one of his creations. Her face had flashed what looked like fright but was quickly replaced by sorrow when she’d glanced at him.
Now as she stood next to the window, the sun pouring over her pale skin, Xavier couldn’t help but think of how she’d looked beneath him just a couple nights before. The doubt in her beautiful eyes made him weak. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, and he wondered how he would ever get what he’d always wanted. Needed.
Love had brought him here, to her parents’ house in an affluent neighborhood south of Kensington Palace. Once again, he hadn’t found a trace of Sophia Montel, only her parents, so this was his last stop—and his last hope. He hadn’t even expected to get past the threshold of dear old Katherine’s house. She’d met him with frost when he’d introduced himself and probably would have slammed the door in his face yet again if Sophia hadn’t come down the stairs.
But he had come here for answers, and he wasn’t leaving without them. It didn’t matter how striking Sophia looked standing next to the window as the light framed her face. It didn’t matter that the very sight of her churned his insides. And it surely didn’t matter that he was in love with her.
“Xavier,” Sophia said quietly, disrupting his thoughts. Her voice sang in his ears.
During his roaming thoughts of her, he had absentmindedly taken several steps in her direction, and now they were just breaths apart. Garnering all his will, he looked away from her face, seeing the hint of sadness there just before he did. He turned, took several strides in the opposite direction, and then twisted back around.
He stared at her innocent eyes, her quivering lips, and fought the impulse to drag her to him and plunder her mouth savagely. That would get him nowhere.
“Care to explain?” he asked.
Sophia gaped at him. “Explain?”
“Or do I not even get the pleasure of an explanation?”
Sophia placed a hand to her head. “I’m sorry…what?”
“Well, ‘sorry’ is a good place to start.” Xavier crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. “Just tell me—do you make a habit of taking a man to bed only to leave him in the middle of the night? Or was it just me?”
She flinched as if he’d slapped her. Her face flushed red, and she moved toward him. “How dare you—”
Within seconds he was inches from her, taking hold of her arms.
“How dare I what? Care about you enough to crawl to the ends of the earth for you?” He squeezed her arms, and Sophia gasped for air but didn’t struggle as she looked up into his eyes. “Care enough to hold you in my arms for a night, only to find them empty in the morning?” He released her and spun about. “Care enough to be crushed when you left?”
He strode toward the window. Her footsteps trailed behind, and she put a hand on his shoulder. He dragged in an irritated breath.
“You left me, Sophia. Not once, not twice…but three times.” He turned back around to face her. “I need to know if you care. If I matter to you at all.”
Her brow furrowed. “Three times?” Her hand fluttered to her head. Her fingers laced between her silken hairs as she rubbed her scalp. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, a glisten of tears pooling at the corner of her eyes. “I don’t understand. But I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He clasped a hand around her arm and gently tugged her toward him. It took everything he had not to silence her with a kiss. She wouldn’t want that. The tremble to her voice, the hesitation of her posture—she was afraid. He hoped not of him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but from where I’m standing, that’s what it looks like.” He took in several deep breaths. “Surely it’s not a game, traipsing around and breaking people’s hearts, is it? Because that’s not the Sophia I remember. That’s not the Sophia I held in my arms when we were younger. It’s not the Sophia I used to love.”
Her face paled at least four shades. “Loved?”
“Yes, I did.” Always would, but her surprised expression made him pause from saying just that. “Why do you look so stunned?”
“Because I…you, me.” She shook her head, the color continuing to drain from her face. “It’s just. Bloody hell. I don’t know where to start.” A tear slid down her cheek, followed by another.
“Don’t—Jesus,” Xavier said as he eyed her face. “Are you crying?”
Sophia twisted free of his grasp and backed away as far as the wall would let her. Xavier reached out, but she recoiled again.
“I want to explain it.” She was panting, struggling for air. “I need to explain it. But I don’t know if you’ll understand.”
“Try me.”
“I can’t. I thought I could. I thought I was ready, but I’m not. I’m not ready for you.”
His heart almost stopped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She pressed an unsteady hand to her head. “I didn’t know that what happened a few nights ago would turn into this.” She made a fluttering gesture with her hand. “I didn’t know that being with you would make me remember.”
“Remember what?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I can’t think straight. I know I feel bad for walking out on you.”
He stepped toward her, needing to touch her. To reassure her. “But how do you feel about me?”
She looked down. “I don’t know,” she said, barely above a whisper.
His shoulders slumped. That wasn’t the answer he’d wanted to hear. He reached out for her again. “Sophia.”
“Don’t,” she said as she held up her hand.
“Just tell me how you feel.”
“I can’t.” She maneuvered around him and headed for the door. Wiping her face free of the tears, she looked over her shoulder once more. “I’m sorry, but I need to be alone.”
Sophia ran out of the sitting room and out the front door, passing by Anne Marie in her haste.
Chapter Eleven
XAVIER SLID DOWN INTO the leather wingback chair. He rubbed his hands over his face and looked up at Anne Marie. She casually leaned against the doorjamb, her eyes accusing.
“What the devil did you say to her to make her run out like that?”
Shaking his head, Xavier fuddled with putting the words together. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just came to—” he blew out a rough breath “—to figure out what her deal is.”
Anne Marie crossed her arms. “What her deal is?”
“Yeah.” His voice rose. “Why she ran out on me two nights ago. Why she ran away from me at the OXO party.” He stood up and paced as he ran his long fingers through his hair. “And why she left me ten years ago without any explanations.” Xavier stopped in front of Anne Marie and looked at her with wild eyes. “I spent years thinking about the day I would see her again.”
He turned away, trying to hide the anguish on his face. “But now she acts like I’m a stranger. All I want is her, and I don’t know why I’m being pushed away.”
Recaptured Dreams Page 9