Yield to Me (2 page)

Chapter 2

Sophie knew it was just a matter of
time before Jonathan insisted they join the others outside for dinner.
Especially once he spied some of the same acquaintances who had attended their
pre-wedding banquet several nights before. He had the gall to assume their
union automatically made her friends his, thus moving him further inside her
well-bred circle. However, what he didn’t know was she didn’t intend to make
things easy for him.

“I’m still waiting for an answer,
darling.”

“I have a slight headache tonight,”
she lied, praying he would accept her explanation for refusing to stay. She was
forced to meet his gaze when he purposely stepped in front of her, blocking her
view of the room and the intriguing stranger.

“Poor baby.”
He reached up, running the back of his hand along her cheek, his
demeanor overflowing with the self-confidence she was growing accustomed to,
and hated. “Maybe you’re worried about tomorrow?”

Our wedding day.

Her stomach churned wildly at the
thought. In the morning she’d become his wife; his to do with whatever he
wanted because Sophie knew in his eyes she’d belong to him, as if she were a
piece of property. Visions surfaced of his one attempt at making love to her,
reminding
her there’d be no
tenderness in his possession.
Once aroused his southern charm
disappeared completely.
It was only because she’d struck a desperate
bargain with him that he hadn’t touched her again. She’d made a pact with the
devil and there was no one who could save her.

Turning abruptly away from him she
inhaled deeply, directing her forlorn gaze out the window to the lighted patio
beyond. People were milling about, helping themselves to the elaborate buffet
set up for the special occasion, while others danced to the soft music provided
by the live band beneath the decorated gazebo. Yet no matter how hard she
tried, she couldn’t escape Jonathan’s watchful expression, reflected in the
glass as he looked over her shoulder. His mouth parted with a smile that
contradicted the cold look in his eyes.

She tried not to cringe when his
hands dropped to her shoulders, his fingers slipping beneath the material of
her gown. He was just arrogant enough to press his body against her, revealing
to all who watched that
he had that
privilege. Her gaze moved past his image to the stranger standing across the
room, her heart jumping wildly when she realized he was observing them with
intense interest.

When most people got caught staring,
they quickly glanced away, but not this man. He was too uncaring for that; too
curious in what was going on between her and Jonathan. As his gaze traveled a
lazy path down the length of Sophie, she grew warm, quivering slightly beneath
his visual caress. Then all at once, he finished the contents in his glass
before setting it down. Even from her vantage point, she could make out the
unmistakable tightening of his expression, as though he was angry about
something, or was it just her imagination?

“Darling, you really must get over
your fear of tomorrow,” Jonathan said, just loud enough for his voice to carry
to an elderly couple walking by. “We’re getting married,” he announced,
returning their congratulatory smiles. However, for Sophie’s ears he murmured,
“I can hardly wait for tomorrow night. These last few weeks…”

She didn’t know how much more she
could take, so she tuned him out. Two months of pretending to be enamored with
him took its toll. A real headache was starting to throb in her temple. She
closed her eyes for a moment, suspecting the glare of the lights wasn’t
helping. Jonathan reached around her, taking the glass from her hands.

“I suspect you’ve had enough of
this.” After he set it down on the window ledge, his hand returned to her arm,
caressing her in what appeared a loving gesture to anyone observing. Always
conscious of any peering eyes, he tilted her head to expose the side of her
neck where he planted a lingering kiss.

Sophie was growing angry and tired
over his continuous show of pretended affection, suspecting he was purposely
baiting her. “Please,” she pleaded, softly so only he could hear her. “We have
a deal,” she reminded him in a strained voice, her skin crawling where his lips
had been.

Revealing her words had infuriated
him, his hands tightened on her with just enough pressure to cause her mild
pain but not enough to make her cry out. “Yes, we have a deal,” he gritted in a
low tone. “I only hope you remember that tomorrow night, darling.
Because nothing will keep me from claiming my rights.”

His rights?
The icy coldness of his tone sent a chill down Sophie’s spine. She
suspected being his wife wasn’t going to be the thing fairy tales were made of.
Then his hands were gone and she watched him stride away. She released a sigh
of relief, not giving a damn who heard it.

All of a sudden, she knew she
couldn’t take anymore, not tonight; she had to get out of there before she
screamed or shouted out the truth to everyone! The walls were closing in on her
and tomorrow they’d be exchanged for prison bars. She whipped around to flee,
slamming bodily into the tall stranger who’d been watching her. How could she
have forgotten him? Without warning, his hands were on her, steadying her, yet
not setting her away from him.

Her heart jumped in her breast when
she glanced up to meet the deep greenish-gold of his magnetic eyes. So much assailed
Sophie’s senses all at once. The strength in his warm, slightly callused hands;
the hardness of a body probably honed by healthy eating and exercise, and a
face tanned deeply by the sun, handsome in spite of the tiny scar above his
left eyebrow.

Her nostrils flared gently taking in
his masculine scent, something spicy, hot, and not overpowering. Teasingly
light.

Unexpectedly
arousing.

Time seemed to stand still. His
charisma was so powerful she feared her reaction was obvious to those in their
vicinity.
At the very least, obvious to the people who knew
her like her father and Jonathan.
However, her father wasn’t there; she
searched the crowd nervously for Jonathan.

Years of schooling and practice had
trained Sophie on how to camouflage her feelings in public, only allowing
people to see what she wanted them to see. However, she knew her instant
response to this man had caught her off-guard, slipping beyond the formal and
appropriate decorum she struggled to maintain. She knew the heat filling her
cheeks was as visible to him as to anyone else looking on. She sank her teeth
into her bottom lip, wondering how many seconds had passed, how many minutes. Surely
too many to go unnoticed.

“Excuse me,” he murmured in a deep
baritone, catching Sophie unaware. His gaze skimmed over her face before falling
to her breasts. She reluctantly glanced down, wishing the floor would open up
and swallow her. Her breasts were barely concealed, spilling over the top of
her gown. Her gaze flew back to his. The interest in his eyes danced with as
much sexual awareness as displeasure, causing a firestorm to sweep through her.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes!” Her husky tone revealed the
man had reached her on a purely sensual level. She made a slight effort to pull
away, but his hands only tightened around her upper arms. She narrowed her eyes
on his. After a few tense moments of silence she ordered, “Please take your
hands off me.”

His eyebrows shot upward in obvious
surprise before his face turned dark, like a volcano getting ready to erupt.
The look he cast upon her caused a sliver of alarm down her spine. Sophie
hadn’t meant her tone to come out sounding so haughty. His reaction over it
made her thankful she was in a crowded room.

Slowly, his hands uncurled, a muscle
twitching in his strong jaw. Sophie got the distinct impression he wanted to
say something, and was just barely holding onto his control. The last thing she
wanted was a confrontation that might draw attention to them, or even worse,
end up in the paper the next day.
Right next to her and
Jonathans’ wedding picture.

He surprised her by standing back,
gallantly making room for her to leave in an exaggerated gesture that caused
her cheeks to fill with heat. She glared at him for a moment, fighting the
unaccustomed impulse to slap his handsome face. Something warned her that was
the response he was hoping for. Well, she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
She twirled around and without as much as a backward glance, exited through the
doors into the breezy tropical night.

By the time Sophie neared the end of
the steps leading down to the street, a stretch limousine pulled up in front of
her. The driver jumped from behind the wheel, and opened the door for her. She
gratefully slipped in, laying her head back and relaxing against the buttery
soft cushions, resisting the urge to order him to drive her all the way to
Canada.

How I hate Jonathan!
And
how she blamed her mother, whom she hadn’t seen since she was a young child,
for putting her into this intolerable situation.
If she didn’t love her
father so much she would have told Jonathan to go straight to hell when he
informed her she was going to marry him, and why he had the power to make her
do so. At first she’d balked, until realizing there was no way she could knowingly
cause her father’s demise by remaining indifferent to Jonathan’s threats.
Threats Sophie knew he wouldn’t hesitate to carry out.

Within minutes, the driver pulled
the luxury car into the parking garage beneath her expensive Ft. Lauderdale
apartment building. As expected, she waited until he opened the door before
slipping from the leather interior with a brief acknowledgment. She turned
toward the elevator with one thought on her mind: wondering how she could
commit murder and get away with it. Because there was no way she would get
married the next morning, much less let Jonathan put his hands on her.

Only, who am I fooling?
Sophie knew she
really had no choice in the matter. Unless her fairy godmother appeared waving
her magic wand, she was going to walk down that aisle in the morning and see
the whole charade through. She’d worry about tomorrow night when it arrived.

She shivered repulsively, watching
the numbers light up as the elevator took her to the seventh floor. Thoughts of
her and Jonathan were quickly replaced with the intriguing man at the museum,
their brief encounter flashing through her mind. She couldn’t help recalling
the little thrill that had surged through her blood when she’d bumped into him.
Little thrill? More like a colossal, mind-blowing, dizzying rush! She could
still feel the warmth of his strong hands on her arms, causing a delicious
tingle she hadn’t taken the time to fully appreciate. The fact his height
complimented hers was an added bonus. She couldn’t help wondering what dancing
with him would be like.

Impatient with herself for
fantasizing about a stranger she’d probably never see again, she shook her head
to clear it. She had to figure a way out of her current dilemma. She stepped
off the elevator noticing two things at once. Several light bulbs had burned
out leaving the corridor dim, and there was a stack of boxes against the wall
by the apartment door nearest hers, a clear indication someone had finally
moved in. She vaguely wondered if it was the couple from England she’d met
viewing it the month before. It would be nice having neighbors again. An
electrical fire had swept through the seventh and eighth floors a few months
before forcing most of the tenants out during renovations, and Sophie had been
the first one to move back in. Once the penthouse apartment was completed,
Jonathan had plans to move them up there.

It took several tries of fumbling
with the key in her lock before she was able to insert it and open the door.
She immediately dropped her evening handbag on the table in the foyer,
following it with the diamond engagement ring. Reaching up, she all but yanked
the emerald choker from around her throat tossing that there as well.

She closed and locked the door
behind her before reaching for the light switch to turn on the floor lamp in
the corner, but nothing happened, which didn’t make any sense because the
dimming lights above the mirror in the foyer were on. She supposed it was
possible the light bulb had burned out, but that didn’t explain why the lights
in the corridor were out.

Frowning, she began to wonder if the
building was experiencing another electrical problem. She wasn’t about to wait
for the fire alarm and reached for the phone to call maintenance when the
doorbell rang, halting her.

“Yes?” she called out, peering into
the peephole. She could just make out a uniform of some kind but the hat the
man was wearing kept his features in the shadows as he read over something on
the clipboard in his hand. Someone had apparently already phoned in the
problem.

“Electrician,
ma’am.
A couple of the tenants have called about
a problem with the power. Are you experiencing any trouble?”

Sophie smiled upon opening her door.
“As a matter of fact, I…” Her gaze dropped to the gun he pulled out from beneath
the clipboard, the rest of what she’d been about to say stuck in her throat.
Taking an instinctive step back, her startled gaze darted up to his.