Something Scandalous
Page 18
Damn him!
She rose and crossed the carpet to the far side of the salon and back again. What if he wouldn’t help her this time? She needed him more than ever for this plan.
“You wanted me?”
Sophie sighed and turned toward the sound of Somerton’s voice. He leaned in a nonchalant manner against the doorframe as if he had nothing better to do with his time.
“You kept me waiting,” she replied before sitting back down on the sofa.
“It’s a wretched feeling, isn’t it?” Somerton moved from the doorway, and took the seat across from her.
“Very well, Anthony. The time has finally come to help Elizabeth.”
“No,” he replied with a shrug.
“What?”
“I’ve decided not to help you until you answer my question.” The impertinent man crossed his arms over his chest in defiance of her wishes.
But Sophie knew the gambler was bluffing. “Very well, then. You may leave.”
Somerton blinked and slowly his lips tilted upward in understanding. “Then I believe we are at an impasse.”
“How so? I do not need your help—”
“Of course you do,” he interrupted. “If not, why am I here?”
She hated it when he remained calm. He was so much more malleable when angry. “No one else can give you what you want, Anthony.”
A dimple slowly creased his cheek. “I’m not so certain you can give me what I need, Sophie. If you could, why make me wait over a year for it?”
“I promised you the woman’s name after we help Elizabeth.”
“That was six months ago.” Finally his voice rose, illustrating his true feelings.
“I never expected it would take this long for the duke to arrive.” Sophie had started to doubt her own powers of prediction.
“Tell me something, Sophie,” Somerton drawled. “Do you really know the woman’s name?”
“Yes,” she answered honestly.
“And you promise you will give me her name once we finish with Elizabeth?”
“Yes,” she replied, looking down at the rug. He didn’t need to know that it might take a bit longer for him to figure out her true identity.
“Before I agree, I want one answer.” Somerton stood and walked toward the window. Drawing the curtain back, he glanced out.
“Very well,” she whispered.
“What is the real reason you made me wait this long?”
“Because neither of you are ready.”
“Ready for what?”
She stared at his hazel eyes, which appeared greener when he was angry. “For what is between you.”
“You have no idea what is between us,” he retorted.