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“But that is not enough for marriage!” she exclaimed.
“Then get to know me. Let me court you properly.”
“No, it is not possible.”
“Why?”
Sophie brushed his shoulder with hers as she walked away from him. She didn’t want to hurt him but she knew of no other way to dissuade him. “You are not the one,” she whispered, staring into the fireplace.
“What are you talking about?”
“I have matched many people during the past five years, including some of our mutual friends. I knew they were right for each other. I saw them together.” She turned back around and faced him with tears welling in her eyes. “I saw us together only that one night in Venice, Nicholas. Not once since. I think I may have misinterpreted my vision that night.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I think I was only supposed to spend the one night with you. We were to be lovers, not husband and wife. I am not the one for you. And you are not the one for me.”
He picked up the book on the table next to her chair and hurled it across the room. “Dammit, Sophie. I don’t accept that.”
“It’s true, Nicholas. We might be incredible lovers, but we are not meant to be each other’s true love.”
“I am not certain there is such a thing for me,” he muttered, walking toward the book he’d thrown. He picked it up and looked down at the cover. “I apologize for throwing your book.”
Sophie breathed in deeply. “I accept your apology, but I believe you should leave now.”
“Sophie,” he said softly. “This is not over.”
“Good day, Lord Ancroft.”
“Good day, Miss Reynard.” He walked toward the door without a glance backward.
She didn’t want him to leave angry. There had to be a way to make him stay longer. If only so she might stare at his handsome face and dream about the wonderful nights she’d had with him. “Nicholas, I might be able to help you.”
He stopped at the door and shook his head. “No, you cannot help me.”
“I can help you find your true love,” she said softly. “The woman you are supposed to spend the rest of your life with. The one who should be your wife.”
“How?”
“Come to the table.”
He hesitated a long moment before turning around and walking toward her worktable. She sat in one chair while he took the one across from her. A little shiver of excitement caused a tremor to race through her.
“Give me your hands,” she said, holding her hands out on the table.
He gripped her hands. Feeling the strength of his hands and remembering the way they skimmed across her naked body, increased her quivers. She had to clear away the tantalizing thoughts.
“Think about love,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She focused on his thoughts and the emotions coursing in him. The feeling of being off-centered and dizzy rushed over her as she concentrated.
Instead of the usual images of a person, blackness was all she saw.
Clearing her mind again, she focused solely on him. Again, there was nothing but darkness. She could see nothing. First Lady Cantwell and now Nicholas? She didn’t understand why this was happening with only some of her clients. Just yesterday she’d read a friend of Jennette’s with no difficulties at all.
“Well?” he asked impatiently.
“Hush. Sometimes this takes a few minutes. Just continue to think about love.”
Again, nothing but blackness filled her mind. She must be losing her powers. She could never reveal that her skills were diminishing. To do so would mean the ruination of her small business.
