Her British Bard (Dream Come True Sweet Romance Book 2)

by Darci Balogh

  She looked at her phone and considered her options. It would be fun to go out with a cute guy and see the sights of London. He was definitely interesting. On the other hand, she was exhausted and needed to rest up over the weekend. Plus there was her job. She didn't really have time for dating, not with Professor Shipley breathing down her neck. She couldn't afford to make any mistakes because she was too tired, or distracted.

  Just then a sharp knock sounded on her door, startling her. She wasn't expecting anyone. Maybe it was Bea and Travis again? She put her wine down on the table next to her phone and went to the door. She froze as the possibility of Ian coming right to her house to ask her out crossed her mind. A tingle of excitement moved across her fingers as she reached for the doorknob.

  "Surprise!"

  Tawnyetta and Michael waited for her on the other side of the door wearing big, goofy grins.

  "Oh my God!" Sofia exclaimed, grabbing them both in a big hug.

  "Did you get my message?" Tawnyetta asked.

  "Yes, I just got it actually. I forgot to check my messages until tonight. But I didn't realize you were coming so soon!"

  "Are you busy?" Michael asked. "I told Tawnyetta not to get her hopes up in case you had other plans."

  "No, not at all," Sofia shook her head 'no' as she ushered them in. A flicker of disappointment passed through her. She couldn't call Ian back now that she had company. Just as quickly as the thought came she brushed it away.

  "This is adorable!" Tawnyetta said as she walked around the tiny flat. She spread her arms out like model on a game show presenting the newest, biggest prize.

  "And so close to the university," Michael added as he peered out her window.

  "It is convenient for sure," Sofia said. "Certainly not as big as what you're used to," she added, teasing.

  She offered them a glass of wine and they told her they had come to whisk her off to dinner.

  "I'll be the envy of every man in the room," Michael said in his most gallant Scottish accent.

  He was gallant, that was for sure. Tall, dark, and handsome, Michael was every woman's dream in the looks department. He had piercing blue eyes and with that Scottish accent he could make any woman swoon. His charms had worked their magic on Tawnyetta and even though they'd been married for over a year Sofia could see the love shining in Tawnyetta's eyes every time she looked at him. It was so nice to have company and get to go out with old friends.

  Sofia and Tawnyetta freshened up while Michael called for a taxi. Then, true to his word, he offered them both an arm and escorted them down the stairs and out to an evening on the town.

  Sofia wasn't sure how wealthy one had to be to own a castle and be a lord like Michael MacBrody. He did not shy away from spending money throughout the evening, which was fun, but it also made her feel a little guilty. They had come to see her and were technically her guests, which would normally mean dinner would be her treat. But with her career balancing on a wire and after the expense of moving all the way to the UK, Sofia knew it was better to let Michael and Tawnyetta splurge on her. She tried to be gracious and accept it without guilt as she knew it was given freely.

  In addition to being excited to see her safely in London, Tawnyetta was over the top excited about their upcoming fundraiser ball.

  "We've decided to use the draw of the castle and whatever influence Michael's position has to address some of the social problems in our area," she explained over dinner.

  "That's wonderful," Sofia said.

  "It's all her idea," Michael said proudly. "My wife has a mind for helping others." He beamed at her as he said it, obviously proud of Tawnyetta's enthusiasm.

  "We're getting as many famous and influential people as we can involved," Tawnyetta continued. But we're also utilizing the connections of people that aren't bigwigs. We don't want it to be snobby." She thought of something and touched Sofia's arm. "Do you remember that travel writer I met on the plane that I told you about, Clark? He's going to help with the PR for all of it, get it into the news and everything like that."

  "That sounds great," Sofia answered as she lifted her wine glass to her lips and took a sip.

  "And Michael's friend, Ian, do you remember him? He was the singer at our reception?"

  Sofia swallowed the wine too fast, shocked at the mention of Ian's name. "Yes, yes I do remember him." If it had just been Tawnyetta she would have told her immediately about dinner with Ian and the message he had just left on her phone. But with Michael there she felt a little shy about it all, so she just smiled calmly.

  "Well," Tawnyetta continued, "he's going to perform. He's really good, actually. Their band is getting a lot of recognition lately."

  Sofia nodded and continued with her Mona Lisa Smile.

  "I was curious," Tawnyetta added. "If you would feel comfortable inviting the professors you're working with and some others from King's College. People like that have a lot of influence and we would love to have them at the ball."

  Sofia's stomach clenched. Professor Shipley at a ball? At a party? The two ideas didn't mesh well in her mind. Besides she didn't know if she was up to asking him such a question. Anything she said to him might send him over the edge and her into unemployment. Pretending that this was the best idea ever, Sofia tried to look positive.

  "I can definitely work on that," she said in the most decisive non-committal way she could.

  "Excellent! I'm so excited," Tawnyetta gushed. She put one hand on Sofia's hand and one on Michael's and squeezed them warmly. "This is going to be great!"

  Sofia did her best to keep up her mood, but she was not so sure she agreed with Tawnyetta's declaration at all.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning Sofia got up bright and early. Tawnyetta and Michael had several meetings scheduled throughout the day and wouldn't be available for socializing until this evening. That was just as well with Sofia, because she had several Saturday chores she wanted to get out of the way.

  First and foremost, she needed to do her laundry. With only a laundromat, but no dry cleaners, nearby and being unwilling to spend the money for pickup and delivery from a dry cleaners further away, Sofia spent the first part of her morning washing her delicates in her bathroom sink. After carefully squeezing them dry she hung all of them from the shower curtain rod, towel racks, and even the doorknobs to dry. When she was done, all of her unmentionables, including underwear, bras, tights, slips, camisoles, and two of her lacy baby doll nighties, filled every possible space in the tiny bathroom. She opened the minuscule bathroom window for more air movement to help them dry and moved on to the rest of her laundry.

  Her tiny flat came equipped with a mini stacked washer and dryer in what she originally thought was a pantry, but turned out to be the laundry closet, right in the middle of her kitchen. She supposed it was a luxury to be able to do laundry in her flat at all, even if she had to do it in several small loads so as not to overstuff the washing machine. She sorted her laundry into four small piles on the kitchen floor and put the first one in to wash.

  After that was done Sofia grabbed her purse and two canvas shopping bags and left to get some groceries. Unlike back in Denver where she would take one trip in her car to a giant supermarket, here she wandered along charming sidewalks and ducked into each small specialty shop to purchase her groceries one or two items at a time. The bakery called to her first with its mouth-watering smell of bread baking wafting down the street. She picked up two crusty French loaves and some scones to go with her morning coffee. Next was the cheese shop, then the butcher shop, then a fresh fruit, vegetable and flower shop. She decided to splurge on an inexpensive bouquet of sunflowers for her table, since the bouquet Tawnyetta had sent her was past its prime.

  Laden down with her purchases she headed back to her flat, but stopped when she came across a candy shop cleverly decorated to look like a gingerbread house.

  "Good morning, dearie, what can I get you today?" A small, round faced woman asked once Sofia got herself a
nd her overflowing canvas bags through the door.

  Sofia looked around at the shelves of large glass candy jars, each with a shining tin lid, and filled with every shape, color, and type of candy imaginable.

  "Gosh," Sofia answered, feeling a little out of her element. "I don't really know where to begin."

  The round-faced proprietor noticed her accent. "American, are you?"

  "Yes," Sofia answered.

  "Well now, would you like some suggestions on the best British sweeties?"

  Sofia did. The gingerbread shop owner was happy to oblige and sent her home with a few Double Decker candy bars, Pear Drops, and a small tin of Turkish Delight–just like in Chronicles of Narnia.

  Once home Sofia put away the perishables in her almost dorm sized refrigerator. Lastly, she tossed the old bouquet and arranged her sunflowers in the vase they had occupied, placing them in the center of her kitchen table.

  Satisfied with her work for the day, Sofia decided it was time for a snack and a little relaxation with one of the books she'd bought at the Red Lion bookstore last week. Pulling out a plate from the cupboard, she arranged a piece of Camembert, slices of hard salami, a chunk of French bread, and a couple of fresh strawberries to eat while she read. She added a handful of Pear Drops as dessert and settled into her couch. The morning had been overcast, but not rainy. The sun was beginning to poke its head out of the clouds promising a nice afternoon and evening.

  Nestled into her couch with the plate of munchies on the cushion next to her, she picked up her gently used copy of The Keeper of Lost Things. Before she started reading, she looked around at her surroundings and felt quite pleased with her accomplishments. She made a mental note to take Tawnyetta and Michael to the funny little bookstore. She knew Tawnyetta would love it as much as she did.

  Maybe because of all of the activity of the week, or maybe because she had stayed out later than normal the night before with Tawnyetta and Michael, but before she had eaten much of her snack or even made it through the first chapter of her book, Sofia drifted off to sleep. The book fell open in her lap as her grip loosened. Her neck grew limp and her head fell softly to the side. Her body slumped sideways and slowly dropped to the cushions of the couch until she was laying with her cheek resting on her uneaten munchies. She remained that way, snoring quietly, completely undisturbed, until almost an hour later when a sudden sound woke her.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Sofia sat up, startled, sending her book and the plate tumbling to the floor. Stale bread, warm Camembert, and dried slices of salami scattered at her feet. The knocking came again and Sofia tried to wake up. What time was it? Had she slept through the whole afternoon?

  "Coming," she called out, but her voice was still thick with sleep. She cleared her throat and said again, "Coming."

  Leaning over she scooped up the food off the floor and onto the plate. As she did, a piece of cheese, that had apparently been stuck to her cheek, fell off and plopped in a melted mess onto the floor.

  "Sheesh," she said, shaking her head and chuckling at the ridiculousness of it. She wiped both hands over her face to ensure nothing else was stuck to her and got up. Tawnyetta and Michael were already there and she was far from ready. Still sleepy, she swayed a little as she deposited the plate of ruined snacks on the kitchen table and headed to the door.

  "I'm sorry," she explained as she unlocked the door to open it. "I fell asleep!" As she opened the door she laughed at her discombobulation, "And I had a piece of cheese stuck to my face–" She stopped short. It wasn't Tawnyetta and Michael knocking at her door. It was Ian.

  Ian, with his dark red punk style hair, worn-out jeans, gleaming golden eyes, sexy tattoos, and a big fat smile on his face.

  "Hullo," he said. He said the greeting with an 'uh' instead of an 'eh'. It was cute. Really, really cute.

  Sofia blinked a few times, not sure she was seeing what was right in front of her. Then, realizing he was waiting for a response, she said, "I thought you were someone else."

  "Fair enough," he nodded. His cat eyes sparkled with merriment and Sofia felt as if a small earthquake was moving the floor under her feet. Her confusion caused by being woken from a deep sleep was magnified by not understanding exactly why he was there. Her brow creased with that question, but she didn't ask it.

  Instead she said, "I got your message."

  "Right, that," he said. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other before screwing up his brow with concern. "Sorry...is this weird?" He shoved one hand into the front pocket of his jeans and crumpled his shoulders forward in pure embarrassment. "I just realized that this might be really, really weird. Considering the message I left you and all of that. I don't...I mean...I do have a perfectly legitimate reason for stopping by. But now I'm thinking from your perspective it might not seem legitimate at all. I'm not stalking you or anything like that, in case you were wondering..." His voice trailed off. He lifted his other arm up so she could see he was holding a purple sweater. Her purple sweater. "I was at Bea and Travis' last night helping Travis do some carpentry work...you know men fixing plumbing nonsense. Bea said she was going to drop your sweater by because you left it the other night and I told her I would be happy to drop it by since I live closer. You know...save them a trip?"

  Sofia's own confusion dissipated as she watched Ian fumble for words and try to explain why he was at her front door. If he had been a complete stranger and was unknown to any of her friends she may have found him showing up at her door a little strange, true. However, he was a friend of Bea and Travis, and he was a college friend of Michael's, and she had spent an entire evening with him and found him to be charming. Nothing about him screamed 'creepy'.

  Her emerald eyes narrowed and she looked him up and down as if deciding his fate. In a way she was, she supposed. Even though he dressed a little rough and was tatted up, and was probably a lot wilder than most of her friends and family, something about Ian Law made Sofia feel like taking a chance.

  "I guess it's not too weird," she said with a smile.

  Her words released him from the grip of self-doubt. He returned her smile with one that started in his eyes and spread across his entire face. Her body tingled in response.

  "Fantastic, great!" He pushed the sweater toward her. "Here you are then." She took the sweater. Ian shoved his free hand into his other pocket and rocked back and forth on his feet. "So...I'll be going," he said, to her surprise. "Let me know if you decide you'd like to see some sights with me. No pressure or anything." He backed away a few steps then turned to make an escape down the hall.

  "Wait," she said. He stopped, turned, and waited, an uncertain smile stuck to his face. "Thank you for bringing this," she said. "Would you like to come in?"

  Relief. He grinned, "I would, thank you."

  After several minutes of Ian complementing her flat, she knew for sure that he was completely harmless. Despite his rebellious look, he tried hard to be extremely polite and was careful not to offend. In fact, he tried so hard it hurt.

  "Nice view," he said as he looked appreciatively out the window. He nodded as he took a second look. "Lots of light and fresh air." He looked at her bookshelf, nodding in approval. "Nice bookshelf."

  She wondered if he had to be extra sweet in life to counteract people's reaction to all of his tattoos. When she'd first seen him at the dinner party, Sofia had been too polite to look closely at them. Now that he was doing most of the talking and she felt a little more comfortable with him, she let her eyes wander down some of the images.

  One arm had a line of sheet music twisting up from the top of his left hand, around his arm and disappearing under the sleeve of his T-shirt. Under the musical notes were lyrics written in script, but she couldn't read what they said. The other arm had a series of skulls and clocks and crowns. Throughout both arms were different sized red roses, black roses, and red and black hearts. Some with banners and words, some without. Add to that his choice of jewelry, which consisted of two chunky silv
er rings on his right hand and several wood bead bracelets on his left wrist, he definitely had the musician look down.

  "Do you mind terribly if I use your loo?" Ian asked. Sofia paused. She had to translate his meaning, which he took as a sign she thought the request odd. "It's just that it took me a little while to find your place, walking up and down the halls."

  "Yes, of course," she answered and told him where to find the bathroom.

  He left the room and Sofia's gaze fell on her book that still lay discarded on the floor. She went to pick it up and as she bent down she noticed her piles of dirty clothes resting on the kitchen floor. Hurrying over, she pushed them with her foot into the laundry closet, shutting the flimsy door to hide them from sight.

  Satisfied, Sofia turned away from the laundry. That's when it hit her. Her delicates. She had sent Ian into her bathroom that was draped with all of her most intimate apparel. She fought the urge to run to the bathroom. What was she going to do? Fling the door open and interrupt him?

  She heard the door of the bathroom open and could do nothing but face Ian as he returned. At first he didn't say anything and she wondered if by some miracle she had put everything away in her sleep.

  Ian moved to the counter next to where she stood by the laundry closet. He leaned casually against it and crossed his arms in front of him, nodding to himself as he did. He lifted his eyes to hers. They were dancing.

  "Nice bathroom," he said.

  "Oh my God," Sofia covered her face with her hands, laughing. "I'm so sorry, I forgot they were in there!"

  Ian lifted his eyebrows at her and stuck out his bottom lip as if considering her apology. "Don't be sorry, Sofia," he bumped his shoulder softly with his own. "That's the nicest bathroom I've ever seen."