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

through the open door. Seating only eight, it was much more relaxing than the formal dining room. That huge table could easily serve fifty and Sophie wondered if the countess had noticed her unease the first night.
    Sophie dressed with particular care. She’d chosen a gown from those Lars ordered for her, marveling at his taste and how well it fit. She’d picked an ivory-colored gown, deeply cut in the front, with lace adorning the skirts from waist to the hem. She thought it becoming, and Betsey oohed and aahed when she put it on. Still it was Lars she wanted to impress. She purely hated the coolness between them. When she came to the doorway of the morning room Lars came to his feet, his eyes blazing with a fire she hadn’t seen for far too long. As soon as he’d seated her he leaned over and kissed her cheek.
    “You look especially beautiful tonight, Sophie. And you always rock me back on my heels. Can we…?”
    He stopped speaking as the countess swept in. Amazingly impressive, even with her diminutive stature, both Sophie and Lars knew at once she was furious.
    The Countess of Alfheim waited until the soup had been served. Sophie eyed her with admiration. She revered this woman, although now the gleam in her eyes was worrisome. At the moment she wanted nothing so much as to be alone with Lars and do anything she could to fan that spark she hadn’t seen for much too long. He’d kept his gaze veiled and impersonal whenever she’d entered a room since their quarrel.
    The countess had her own agenda and she was determined to pursue it. She didn’t waste much time. As soon as the footmen removed the first course, she turned on Lars.
    “I’m not at all pleased, Lars. An idiot can tell you and Sophia have had a disagreement. I don’t approve.”
    Her use of her more formal name alarmed Sophie as much as the starchy tone.
    Lars’ startled expression showed how rare admonishments from his mother were.
    “Mama, you’re right. I’m afraid it’s mostly my fault. My stupid pride made me withdraw to think things over. I was about to apologize just now, and I will as soon as I have the chance.”
    His contrite grin accompanied by an appealing glance disarmed his mother. Her fondness for him tempered her expression as she tried to keep it severe. Since she succeeded little at all, Sophie grinned back at them both. She treasured Lars and his mother’s relationship as a superior example of what a filial love could be. She couldn’t remember much about her mother, but she was certain there’d never been much warmth about their relationship.
    Come to think of it, her father, much as she esteemed him, had never been what one could call loving. Kind and always an example of how the life of the mind could make one content, even to the point of being oblivious to lesser and mundane matters.
    Another example of how different her life had been from Lars’. How could she even hope for something resembling permanency with him?
    She saw the look of alarm on Lars’ handsome face, and knew he’d interpreted her thoughts.
    The countess looked at them both and turned toward the door. “I think it’s time you settled matters, my son, I give you that chance. Now don’t botch it up, Lars.”
    He looked highly amused at her uncustomary choice of words but said simply, “I’ll try my best not to, Mama.”
    With a smile at both of them and a kiss on Sophie’s cheek, she sailed from the room. Not that she was big enough to resemble any kind of ship, but she certainly gave the impression of gliding through waters at her own speed.
    As soon as she was out of sight, Lars strode to Sophie and took her in his arms.
    “We can work anything out, love, if we both do our part. I’m sorry I got angry so quickly. I couldn’t stand you thinking I was so shallow I’d find the things you mentioned as important. We can work through them all if we’re together.”
    She couldn’t resist his beautiful head bent over hers with a look of love