The Blackwood children deserved their own happiness, but Sophie wasn’t sure settling down with some perfect guy was in the cards for her. She certainly wasn’t looking for love. Such an emotion didn’t exist for everyone and she wasn’t holding her breath that it would happen to her.
But lust? Yeah, that was not an issue.
Nigel made her want to throw out her vow to hold on to her virginity until the right man came along. She’d decided long ago there wasn’t a right man or anyone she felt worthy enough to gi
ve that piece of herself to.
She didn’t want to have sex just for the sake of having sex. Maybe she was in the minority with that line of thinking, but she didn’t answer to anyone and she was proud of the fact she didn’t sleep around to feel good about herself.
Nigel, on the other hand, had her envisioning flings and heated nights...and naughty whispers in her ear with that sexy British accent. Maybe if he’d come along sooner in her life, or if she were here under different circumstances, she would see just what could happen if she let herself go and let her desire guide her decision-making.
“Sophie?”
She jerked her attention back to the conversation. “Sorry,” she replied. “I got distracted.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Kellan asked. “You don’t have to do this. We can find another way to contest the will and make Miranda give up what’s ours.”
“I swear, I’m fine,” she insisted. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll be in touch.”
“Love you.”
“I love you, too,” she replied before she ended the call.
Sophie glanced at the time and realized she only had a few hours before she had to meet Nigel. There were a couple angles she was working on for him and she wanted to finish up. The more she proved to be useful, perhaps the more he would trust her with the show’s secrets. He’d already disclosed Seraphina’s personal issue. He was bound to know something about Miranda that went beyond public knowledge.
Sophie’s entire goal here had hinged on her finding useful gossip or some sort of concrete proof that Miranda had lured Buck into giving his estate to her. Sophie didn’t believe her father had done so just because. But even if he had, Sophie didn’t think she and her brothers should just be cut out of a family legacy.
Since Sophie was working so closely with Nigel, perhaps she should find ways to use that to her advantage. He would know these women better than probably anyone on the set. They trusted him and confided in him.
Sophie wasn’t about to use her body to get information—she would never do something like that. But spending extra time with Nigel over dinners or coming up with new ideas to get into his office for extra minutes could lead to conversations she could use later.
After all... Nigel had clearly made it apparent he was interested. Maybe he would trust her with more and then she could get back to Royal...before she ended up losing her innocence.
Five
Nigel came to his feet when Roslyn entered the private room. He’d requested his usual spot on the second floor of Manhattan’s poshest restaurant. He wanted no interruptions.
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” Roslyn pulled off her red scarf and coat, then shook out her golden hair. “It takes quite a bit longer to get around the city than where I’m from.”
“Country girl,” he joked, gesturing for her to take a seat in the curved booth next to him.
The hostess took Roslyn’s coat and scarf before leaving them alone.
The flickering candle and the tight bundle of white roses in a gold vase on the table set a romantic vibe, one he wasn’t purposely trying to create. He’d wanted to spend time with her, and he’d wanted a good dinner. Why couldn’t he have both? The decor wasn’t his fault—it came with the room.
“I’ll take your crazy traffic into account next time we meet,” she told him.
“I’ll send my driver next time,” he replied.
“That’s not necessary. I doubt you do that for your other employees.”
True, but she wasn’t just any employee. An argument he wasn’t going to have now. He’d just send the car next time and she would have no choice but to allow him to make her life easier.
“Which reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to ask,” she added, turning to face him. “Everyone in the office calls you Mr. Townshend, yet you told me to call you Nigel.”
Busted.
“You’re working closer with me than most of them do. Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked, instead of going in circles with an argument he’d ultimately win anyway.