As Luck Would Have It (Providence #1)

If he ever loved her. If he ever loved her. That was a fairly enormous “if.” She knew he cared for her, and it was possible, if they were together for many years, that he might grow to love her. But it wouldn’t be love as she knew it. It wouldn’t be this all-encompassing emotion that made her want to simultaneously throw her arms around him and kick him in the shins. He wouldn’t be in love with her. The sort of love she felt for him was very rare indeed, and to have it returned was even rarer.

What she felt for him was surely…unrequited love. The thought of it had the oddest effect on her. She felt a fierce pain in her chest…and she felt relieved. She didn’t think unrequited love could be considered balanced in and of itself, but she was absolutely certain it could never be mistaken for good fortune. Since he would never love her back, she wouldn’t be at risk to suffer the inevitable payback of an equal dose of misfortune.

“Sophie.”

She would be safe. She was safe. She could marry Alex—if he allowed her return to her father. She groaned inwardly. So many ifs!

“Sophie! Either you marry me, or you don’t marry at all,” Alex declared, having given up on his earlier question.

She stopped pacing and looked at him. “One of us was insulted by that remark, but I’m just not sure which one.”

“Do I get a vote?” he grumbled.

“No.”

“I thought not. Be reasonable, Sophie.”

“I am being reasonable. All I want is to be able to return to my father.”

Alex considered that for a moment. “Very well.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said ‘very well.’ We’ll marry and you can be reunited with your father.” He held his hand up to forestall any comment from her. “After you give me an heir.” Alex was reasonably certain he could convince the viscount to return to England by then.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What if I can’t have children? Or what if I only have daughters?” she asked.

“I would be delighted with daughters,” Alex said honestly. Little dark-haired, blue-eyed imps just like their mother. He reconsidered that. Little dark-haired, blue-eyed angels sounded better. His daughters were not going to spend their days learning how to pick locks and throw knifes. Nor were they going to engage in dangerous activities of any sort.

“You’re scowling,” Sophie remarked, not sounding particularly concerned. “But what of an heir? And what if I can’t have children at all?”

Alex sighed. Then I will thank God every day for having you all to myself, he thought. What did it matter? They’d find a way to be happy together. Lord knew he couldn’t be happy without her.

“We’ll set a time limit,” he said. “If we are unable to produce an heir in, say…” he waved his hand about a bit, “ten years, then—”

“Ten years!”

“Well, we don’t want to be too hasty. Lady Thurston had Kate fairly late in life, you know.”

“Three years,” Sophie countered.

“Seven.”

“Five.”

“Done.” And that was that.





Twenty-six

Sophie blinked.

Alex grinned.

“Well then,” she gulped.

“Well then,” he repeated, smiling wolfishly and moving toward her in much the same manner. “How shall we celebrate our engagement?”

“Er…”

“Come now, you don’t mean to renege do you? It’s considered very bad form, you know.”

“I’m not going to renege,” she said a little defensively, glad to focus on something other than the feral way he was eyeing her.

“Delighted to hear it.”

He advanced toward her and Sophie instinctively retreated until her back was pressed against the wall. Alex leaned forward and pressed his palms on the wall at either side of her head, neatly boxing her in. His eyes raked over her as if she were a feast set before a starving man and Sophie felt the heat of it, the thrill of it, race along her skin.

“I think we’ve tried this once before,” she said, wondering at her nervousness, and the excitement that came along with it. It wasn’t as if she had never kissed him before. Of course, she didn’t recall him ever before looking quite so…hungry.

Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “Betrothal?”

“No, kissing to celebrate an agreement. It involved a hat pin, remember?”

“Ah, yes,” he murmured, bringing his face closer to hers. “The hat pin. If I recall correctly, I suggested we kiss to seal a pact that day. Now we are celebrating our engagement. It is entirely different, I assure you.”

“If you say so.” Really why should she argue? Were she nervous or not, he was going to kiss her and they were going to be wed.

Sophie felt a weight lift from shoulders. She was going to marry Alex and not some old man who treated her like an adorable bonbon. Whitefield was safe, her father was safe, and she got Alex. Perhaps not forever, but for a while at least, and that was considerably more than she had allowed herself to even hope for.

She no longer had to fight down every desire, the longing she felt every time she looked at him, thought of him. Alex was hers now. She could kiss him to her heart’s delight.

She threw her arms around his neck and did just that.

Alissa Johnson's books