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Damon smiled and rose. “Mother, this is Sophie.”
Sophie glanced at Elaine Sinclair. Not a platinum hair was out of place. Her makeup, applied to perfection, and her tailored suit gave the impression of a much younger woman than Sophie had expected. Where was the matronly housewife who longed for grandchildren that Damon had described?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Sophie offered her hand to the older woman.
“I’m sure.” Elaine barely made contact before withdrawing her fingers. She gave a disinterested glance at Sophie’s appearance.
Her outfit—a pair of denim shorts, a white halter top and a sweatshirt tied around her waist—had seemed appropriate vacation wear when she’d dressed. Who knew that breakfast attire was formal at The Sanctuary? Even Damon had worn a silk shirt and tie. Tucking her bare feet beneath her, she settled into a Windsor chair next to Damon. The maid served a cup of tea and left a small basket of croissants in front of her plate. She picked off the edge of the flaky bread and popped it in her mouth.
“Where are your people from?” Elaine asked casually, but there was nothing casual about the icy glare she shot Sophie.
Sophie brushed the hair off her shoulder. “Originally or currently?”
“Currently.”
“My mother is somewhere around Kansas right now. She’s...on tour.”
“An actress?” Elaine grumbled with obvious distaste.
“No. A fortune-teller with the Vitabel Traveling Carnival.”
“And your father?”
Sophie looked to Damon for assistance. Instead of helping, he leaned back in his seat and sipped his espresso. He seemed to enjoy his mother’s grilling. “I never met my father.”
“I see. And do you travel with the circus, too?”
“Carnival,” Sophie corrected. “And I did move with my mother when I was a child, until the courts said she had to enroll me in school. Then we moved to New York with my grandmother.”
“A sideshow performer, too, I presume?”
Sophie had never felt embarrassed about her family and Elaine Sinclair’s snobbish airs wouldn’t change that.
“What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?” The familiar deep voice sent a tingle along her spine.
Elaine tensed as Alex strode into the room. “Alex, dear. I thought you were in the stables.”
“I came in for lunch, but apparently you’re still on breakfast.” Dressed all in black, he radiated pure masculine sexuality. “Good morning, Sophie. Damon.”
Sophie waved. “How’s Elvis this morning?”
He chuckled. “Going through an identity crisis. You shouldn’t have laughed at his name. He’s got some attitude today.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“Thanks, but you’ve done enough.”
She grinned sheepishly and took a sip of tea. She credited the warmth spreading through her to the hot liquid rather than Alex’s smile.
Elaine drummed her fingernails against the table. “What time are we leaving for the club, Damon?”
“About an hour.” He cupped his fingers possessively over Sophie’s arm. “You coming, honey?”
She shook her head. “Only if you tranquilize me first”
“A few hours with the horses will put you to sleep.”
“Ten minutes of watching you prance around a racquetball court will do it, too,” she teased back, wrinkling her nose.
“She loves me,” Damon announced with a laugh. “Come on, babe, I need to talk to you before I leave.”
Sophie was happy to comply. She needed to get out of the cross fire and regroup. Why had Damon allowed his brother to come to her defense rather than standing up for her himself? Did he really think his mother would be fooled by their supposed engagement when he showed her no more affection and concern than he would show the butler? Digging her fingernails into the arm he offered her, she followed Damon out of the room.
Alex lowered his head and watched a delicate pair of bare feet with red toenails pass by him. He struggled against the urge to examine the rest of Sophie’s body as she left the room. The more often he saw her, the harder he had to fight the attraction he felt. Listening to his stepmother question Sophie in her judgmental and demeaning way had brought out his protective instinct. Seeing Sophie, head held high and unruffled by the verbal snipes, he realized she neither wanted nor needed his help.
Elaine pushed back her plate and folded her linen napkin. “Well?”
Alex poured a mug of coffee and grabbed a piece of toast. “Well, what?”
“You can’t possibly mean to let Damon marry that woman.”
“Since when have I had any influence with him?”
“She’s totally inappropriate.”
He leaned against the wall. “I think she’s perfect for him.” Despite his own feelings he managed to keep a straight face. He didn’t want Sophie for a sister-in-law. He just plain wanted her. And he instinctively knew that his brother had known he would.
Elaine’s jaw sagged. “What?”
“Sure. One of those country-club debutantes would bore him inside a week and bankrupt what little he has left in a month.”
“And you think Gypsy Woman isn’t after his money?”
“If that’s the case, she’ll be gone as soon as she realizes he doesn’t have any.”
“Alex, are you telling me you won’t do anything about this engagement?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“You’ll be here. Spend some time with her. See what she’s up to.”
He was more interested in what his family was up to. Damon couldn’t bother sticking around to entertain his own flancée. Elaine might as well have asked Alex to seduce Sophie. Why?
Why not? The thought brought a smile to his lips.
“Alex, he’ll ruin his life and marry her just to get you to sell the house. Have you thought about that?”
“Yes. And I’m sure he has, too.” He grabbed another slice of toast on his way out.
How far was his family willing to go in their endeavors to get him to sell the estate? This wouldn’t be the first time Damon had enlisted the aid of a beautiful woman in his quest. However, if this was another scam, he’d make damn sure it was the last one.
Sophie entered the stall slowly with her hand held out. “Come on, Elvis. I’ll call you the King if you come out. No saddle. I promise.” She coaxed the horse forward and slipped the bridle over his head. “That’s not so bad.”
She walked him out of the stable. After tossing her backpack on her shoulder, she used the paddock fence as a leg up onto Elvis’s broad back. A click of her tongue and pressure from her legs started the animal moving, but he stopped short a moment later when Alex drew up alongside.
“Where are you going?” His biceps rippled as he stroked the horse’s head. Streaks of gold highlighted his tawny brown hair.
“The King and I are going for a stroll. Is that all right?”
“I said you were welcome to ride, but wouldn’t you rather I went with you until you know your way around?”
She waved her hand at the panoramic view before her. “It’s hard to get lost in a fortress.”
“I thought you might want to explore beyond the wall.”
Although she would be wise to keep her distance from Alex, the temptation to go AWOL was more than she could refuse. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“I’m going anyway,” he said with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.
She let out an exaggerated sigh. Despite his nonchalant air, she wondered if he had already decided to go to keep an eye on her. “Well, gee, control your enthusiasm.”
“This is as excited as I get about anything.”
She bit her lower lip to prevent a full-blown laugh from erupting. Was that ever a challenge, her overactive hormones wanted to answer. What would it take to make him lose control?
Shaking her head, she exhaled slowly. She would never know. Not while he believed her to be involved with his brother. And if he learned the truth? He would probably trust her even less.
Alex grabbed a saddle and tack. “Give me five minutes.”
She nodded and urged Elvis toward the driveway.
Alex joined her moments later. Sitting astride Windancer like a legendary Western outlaw, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. A comfortable silence settled between them as they rode side by side toward the main entrance. The farther they got from the house, the lighter she felt. Was it the estate that made her feel so oppressed—or her own guilt?
Once they cleared the gate, Sophie looked back over her shoulder at the high wall with cameras mounted on each side.
“My father was paranoid about security,” Alex said.
“Considering your past, it’s understandable.” She cursed the words the second she uttered them.
He sat ramrod straight in the saddle. His jaw clenched and his eyes flashed with anger. “Damon told you.”
She bowed her head. “Yes. And he expressly told me not to say anything. But, as usual, my mouth was engaged before my brain was in gear.”
“A frequent occurrence with you, I’ve noticed.” He stared at her for a long moment, then smiled, revealing two beautiful dimples. “I prefer unguarded honesty to a well-rehearsed lie.”
Her stomach muscles tightened. No matter how quickly he’d recovered, she had still touched on a raw nerve. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a state secret. You can pick up an old newspaper and find stories about the incident.”
“I don’t dig into other people’s pasts. Mine isn’t a Norman Rockwell portrait.”
“As long as Damon doesn’t mind...”
She pretended not to hear. Her relationship with Damon was not a subject she wished to discuss. Alex already had his doubts. Why add to his suspicions by proving how little she knew about her fiancé?
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