One Night Scandal

She looked over at him. With the light from the hall behind him, she could barely make out his handsome face. Not that she needed to remember what he looked like. His appearance was etched in her mind as clearly as the night she first saw him.

“Good evening, my lord,” she replied unevenly as she rose from her seat. “I have been expecting you.”

“I am sure you have,” he said, strolling into the room.

Hendricks looked over at her, and she nodded at the unasked question. Leaving the room quietly, he closed the door.

“Please have a seat across from me at the table.” Sophie returned to her chair.

“I was told you might be able to assist me in finding someone.” Nicholas took the seat across from her.

“Perhaps,” she answered vaguely. “What do you want from me?”

His full lips moved upward. “I have an earring and would like to locate its owner.”

“My intuition is not always perfect, but many times I can read the emotions left on an item.”

“I see.”

“Why do you want to find this person?”

“I would like to know that she is all right. I would like to know more about her. When we met, she did not give me much information about herself.”

Sophie looked down at her hands. “Sometimes people need to keep secrets, my lord. As such, I may not be able to read everything and give you the answers you are looking for.”

“I’d heard you were the best,” he commented.

Ignoring his comment, she said, “Let me see the item.”

He held out her earring until she grabbed it from him. Somehow, she had to get him to leave the earring here with her.

“Do you see anything?” he pried.

Sophie closed her eyes and actually concentrated on the earring. Once again, she saw nothing. In her mind’s eye, she should have seen all that occurred between them. But other than that one night in Venice, she’d never clearly seen or read anything regarding her future.

“Well?” he asked with a little impatience tracing through his voice.

She had to tell him something. “You met in Italy . . . I see water all around . . . Venice, I believe.”

“Yes.”

She wondered why she heard humor in his reply. “Yes, Venice. She was injured when wearing the earring . . . but you saved her.” For a little dramatic effect, she added, “Oh, my.”

“What is it?”

“You were lovers,” she whispered.

“Yes, we were.”

Sophie’s muscles tensed at the seductive sound of his voice. Sitting across the table from him with her eyes shuttered, she remembered everything they had done that night. This had to stop before she blurted out the truth of her identity.

“She does not wish to be found.”

“What?” he said roughly.

“She believes it was a mistake. Therefore, I cannot get any further information from the earring.” She opened her eyes but avoided his piercing gaze. Handing him the earring, she softly said, “I am sorry.”

“Are you?” he whispered as his eyes narrowed.