Free Fiery Pursuit (Passionate Pursuits, Book One) by Jean Hart Stewart

Dover even though Lars sometimes wished they could stay in the seclusion of the boat forever. He talked frequently to the men manning the engines. Everyone seemed to understand he was not the usual passive owner of a magnificent yacht, but a man to be respected. They all were quite comfortable with his pointed ears as Sophie. They accepted him as he was.
    It delighted Lars that Sophie liked to finger his hair and stroke his ears.
    Besides, she often told him those ears were unbearably sexy. She loved to kiss the lobes, smiling as she soon had him grabbing her in amorous play.
    He’d provided Sophie with pads of paper and plenty of pencils. She’d thrown her arms around him and kissed him with such passionate thanks he had to force himself to remember it wasn’t a sexual encounter she wanted at this point. Holding himself rigid, he watched as she quickly went to the desk and pulled the paper toward her.
    “Lars, you angel. I’ve had a new theorem running around my head I was afraid I’d forget. Now I can put it all down and then decide if it’s worth pursuing. I think it is, actually, but I’ll have to check and re-check.”
    Lars stood silent as the love of his life smiled at him, and then forgot he was there. Sophie bent her shining head over the desk and began to write. Lars could see in his mind what she was writing. He didn’t have to move and look over her shoulder. Her rapid pen strokes were moving with precision, setting down an algebraic formula evidently blossoming in her head.
    He was not powerless. He could easily call upon his elfin power to help him decipher her swift scribbling. But that was not the point. The crux of the matter burst into his mind like an elf’s arrow. He’d fallen in love with a woman whose mental life might be more important to her than her physical one.
    He respected her brains and her dedication. But could she ever give him her whole self, with no reservations? She was brilliant, even if she’d masked the truth from the world. He meant to see she was acknowledged as the beautiful brainy woman she was. But would she ever cherish anything as much as she did her intellectual life?
    Would he ever mean as much to her as the ideas whirling around in her lovely head?
    * * * * *
     
    They both stood on deck, watching the Angelina move slowly into shore at Dover. The famous white cliffs shone in the brilliant sunlight, and the huge harbor, filled with ships from around the world, curved in a large arc. It was an impressive sight. Lars grinned, knowing they were home safely, and Sophie stood silent and in awe.
    As soon as the Angelina docked, Lars ordered the captive’s release. He watched with satisfaction as the brute hurried away. Lars didn’t regret Smythe was limping. He was damn lucky Lars or the crew hadn’t killed him. He ordered Smythe followed and then turned to the problem of how to get Sophie to his cottage without ruining her reputation. He could hardly take her wearing a blanket. Finally he told her to stay on board while he went shopping. He wanted this task for himself, although he asked the captain to be extra careful of her until he returned. If anyone picked out clothes for her he intended to be the one.
    Luckily his mental measurements made it easier than he’d thought to pick up a traveling dress. He used his formidable mind to remember the names of two dress-makers his mother used, summoned the addresses with elfin power, and went to the nearest one. He wore a hat that kept his hair in place so it partially covered his ears. Calling on his elfish powers always unveiled his ears, but he wanted no inquiring stares. He intended to remain wary while he was gone. Not that he minded curiosity, but he wanted his errand to be as little noticed as possible.
    He’d picked the most French of the shops, and found his description of Sophie’s figure to elicit only small, knowing smiles. Luckily a customer had ordered a driving outfit of deep blue, which Lars coveted at once.