Page 21 of Seducing Sophia (Scholars of Seduction)

“But you cannot swim!” she said. “You said so, yourself.”

“The water’s not deep.”

“Did you know that for certain? You shouldn’t risk your life. Not for a mere object that can so easily be replaced.”

“Not even if that object is treasured by a dear friend?”

Her expression softened as she glanced at Henry, then resumed her focus on Adrian.

“I would not wish to see a…” she hesitated and looked away, “…a friend place themselves in danger unnecessarily. My son has plenty of toys with which to amuse himself.”

“Ah—but does he have many friends?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Which is why I must guard his heart. A good friend is one who is there for life, Colonel FitzRoy—not an acquaintance who amuses himself with my son’s company until he tires of him.”

“Then let me reassure you that I consider myself Henry’s friend, rather than his acquaintance. I’ll never tire of his company. Acquaintances exist in your life for their benefit only. A true friend is one who is there to help you when you need it.”

She continued to stare at him, then her expression softened, and she held out her hand.

“Here,” she said. “You’ll not be able to climb out on your own.”

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Helping you when you need it,” she said, with a smile.

* * *

Propriety be damned,Sophia offered her hand to Colonel FitzRoy. No lady should stoop to pulling a man out of the Serpentine, but she’d long ago ceased to be a lady. She’d seen the couple watching him leap into the water—seen their glances of disapproval and heard their mutters of contempt.

What did it matter? Where had propriety and social convention landed her?

Abandoned, pregnant, and vilified, that’s where.

Only because Papa had defied convention, and stood by her, did she not find herself tossed out on the streets. But Papa’s social standing had suffered, and his friends had abandoned him, because of her.

But FitzRoy—Adrian—was different. A man in his position in society could act improperly and be forgiven for it. But, nevertheless, he hadn’t needed to rescue Henry’s boat. He’d wanted to. And at risk to himself.

“Do you want to come out of the water or not?” she asked.

He glanced at her hand and lifted his eyebrows in inquiry. At her nod, he took it. Once again, that familiar tingling sensation warmed her skin at his touch. Long, lean fingers curled around her wrist in a grip of possession.

The breath caught in her throat, charging the need that his presence always excited.

“Careful, Mrs. Black,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Much as I would relish the sight of you wet, it would not do for you to fall into the water beside me.”

His eyes gleamed with playful wickedness and his mouth curled into that devilish grin once more.

She drew in a deep breath to dispel the fog of need.

“On the count of three,” she said.

“I am at your command.”

“One, two…three!”

She gave a sharp tug and he leaped out of the water, almost colliding with her. Instinctively she stepped back and lost her balance, but before she could fall, she found herself enveloped in two muscular arms, and held against a broad chest.

For a moment, she remained still, relishing his solidity and strength—the sensation of being claimed and cherished by another. She lowered her head and closed her eyes.

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