Free As Luck Would Have It by Alissa Johnson Page A

profile. He could stare to his heart’s content and no one, including her esteemed chaperone Mrs. Summers, would be the wiser. And she was nice to stare at. His eyes slid fromthe thick mass of sable hair he knew to feel like silk from the briefest of touches after the carriage accident, down to her ear, which was perfectly adorable, small, and slightly pointed at the tip. His gaze continued down to her elegant neck and then her bared shoulder. Alex wondered if her skin would taste as creamy as it looked. He followed the curve of her collarbone as it slid around to the front where he could make out the most tantalizing hint of cleavage.
    He shifted in his seat again, stared at her hair for awhile, then gave up and spent the rest of the evening trying very, very hard to develop an interest in the performing arts.
    Sophie, on the other hand, had planned to spend the time in Alex’s box soaking in every blessed note of the opera and completely ignoring the man who inexplicably turned her mind into mush. Her original plan had been to cry off with a headache, but Mrs. Summers wouldn’t hear of it. So Sophie had devised the backup plan of actually enjoying herself, but that too seemed in immediate danger of failing.
    The evening had started well enough. Alex had behaved as a perfect gentleman on the ride over. At least she thought he had been—she was still a little uncertain about some of the finer requirements of that particular station. He certainly had been more subdued in his choice of conversation topics, and, more importantly, he’d been unfailingly respectful to Mrs. Summers, which had raised him several notches in Sophie’s esteem. By the time they had reached the opera house, she had been confident her plan would be a resounding success.
    That changed once they entered the box. It was too small for one thing, and for some reason he seemed to take up more than his fair share of the available space. He continued making polite conversation, but she had the hardest time overcoming the sensation that she had been cornered like so much prey. It wasn’t that she was typically uncomfortable in small spaces. In fact, if the box were half the size with twice as many people, it wouldn’t have mattered in the least. Smallboned, and at barely over five feet and two inches, Sophie was accustomed to looking up to people, to feeling petite. Alex’s size, although impressive, wasn’t what overwhelmed her. It was everything else about him—his laughing green eyes, his gravelly voice, the way that one errant coffee-colored lock of hair kept slipping down his forehead the same way it had the first time she’d seen him. It was, simply put, him. He made her feel trapped. She didn’t like it. And yet she did. It was positively maddening.
    When the music started and she realized he intended to stare at her all evening, Sophie knew she desperately needed a backup plan for her backup plan. After some consideration, she came to the conclusion that she might not actually enjoy the opera to night, but she could damn well pretend she did.
    It was a draw as to who was more relieved when the curtains closed for intermission. Alex escorted her out of the box for some refreshments and fresh air. She felt better immediately.
    “Will you be attending the Wycotts’ musicale next Friday?” Alex asked casually, after escorting her out of the box and fetching her a glass of lemonade.
    “I believe we’ve another engagement—the Patton ball,” she responded. “It’s the Wycotts themselves performing, isn’t it? Kate says they’re rather good.”
    “Kate would know, she has a gift for music. Have you had a chance to hear her play the pianoforte yet?”
    Sophie shook her head and took a sip of her overly tart lemonade, not because she was thirsty, but because it gave her something to do.
    “Next time you see her, you really must insist. She is a wonder.”
    “I’ll make a point of it,” Sophie mumbled. She had never been anything less