An Irresistible Temptation Page 15

He pulled back. In his hand was protection that she’d only read about. She watched him put it on, watched his thick protrusion seem to jump with a mind of its own and longed to encircle it with her hands.

  This piece of male anatomy was magnificent, much more so in person than in the drawings she’d seen. It was also daunting. She had touched herself to extreme pleasure and knew her body. It didn’t seem to her that his erect shaft could possibly fit but she aimed to find out.

  He looked her in the eyes as he nudged her legs apart with his knee and settled between them. She felt him fit his member to her damp opening. She was throbbing and, incredibly, she could feel his body throbbing, too.

  “Sophie,” he caressed her with her own name and started to press inside her.

  She wanted to tell him she loved him, right then, but it wouldn’t be right. It certainly wouldn’t do any good to say it. Instead, she gave over to the feeling as he entered her. Yes, it burned, as she’d heard it would. But then the discomfort passed and he was filling her.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she said, hardly able to breathe.

  He moved and she moved with him, and he kissed her lips and she kissed him back. It was as she hoped it would be. He was so hard and powerful, and she loved looking up at him, with his arms placed on either side of her and his body surging into hers, all his muscles rippling. He was the epitome of restrained strength.

  But as the heat grew between them, she had to close her eyes and focus on the sensations building inside her, to the crescendo that seemed inevitable.

  She was climbing a mountain of pleasure and knew, once she reached the peak with this man, she would be forever changed, forever linked to him. At the crest, she felt his hand slip between their bodies and touch her at the apex of her desire. She gasped and her whole body shuddered, her muscles clenching around him until she felt lightheaded and breathless. Crying out, she heard him seconds later releasing a guttural sound that mimicked the animal passion she felt.

  She’d raked his back with her fingernails, but it didn’t shock her. She reveled in the release as she tumbled down the other side of the peak, holding on to him tightly before he collapsed beside her on her small bed.

  “Sweet Jesus!” she muttered, feeling limp, as though she’d rushed through Beethoven’s entire Sonata No. 21 in about three minutes.

  He laughed dolefully and rolled on his side to face her. But as he opened his mouth to speak, there came a knock on the door. They both froze, eyes wide open. She bit her lower lip and he stared at the door handle.

  “Miss Malloy,” came the maid’s voice. Sophie nodded her head indicating to Riley that it was all right, and then they heard her footsteps as she left.

  He let out a pent-up breath. “That was close.”

  She nodded. The surge of fear at nearly being caught had revived her from the after-lovemaking lethargy.

  “You have to get out of here. Philip is coming to take me out.”

  Riley scowled. “Would you mind not mentioning another man while I’m lying naked next to you?”

  Unbelievably, she smiled. This was absurd. This could not be her life. But she’d been correct. Everything had changed. Riley was now her paramour, her confidant, the one she felt closest to in all the world. And he had to leave.

  “First of all, you’re not naked. Not entirely, anyway.” She touched his rumpled white shirt that hung open over his broad chest. “Second, you are not lying here another instant. You have to leave. Immediately.”

  He stared hard at her, with her practical persona firmly in place. She could see he was about to become tender and she couldn’t bear it. He took her face in his hands.

  “Sophie, I—”

  “No, don’t say it. Whatever it is. You have a ferry and a train to catch, Riley Dalcourt. And I have . . . well, I have another path to take.”

  He gazed into her eyes for another long moment. “You’re right.” Still, he took the time to kiss her gently before getting up and dressing quickly.

  As he did, she wrapped her gown around her and efficiently smoothed the covers on her bed, knowing later she’d have time to ponder and remember and maybe regret.

  After shrugging on his coat, he took her hand and pulled her into his arms, leaning his chin atop her head. She tried to memorize the feeling of his unyielding body pressed against her soft curvy one.

  “Are you really giving Philip another chance?” he asked quietly.

  How could he discuss it? She hadn’t mentioned Eliza for decency’s sake. At last, finding the strength, Sophie pushed him firmly away.

  “As you said, you have no right, not even to ask me that.” She unlocked the door and opened it, standing with her back pressed against the door trim.

  Riley’s eyes glinted with a myriad of emotions, but all he did was cinch the belt at her waist a little tighter and smooth her hair for her, running his thumb along her jawline one last time. Then he stepped out into the hallway. She tilted her head to one side, barely able to breathe. They stared at each other silently until Riley spoke.

  “He’s a lucky bastard.”

  “Who is?” asked Philip, coming upon them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sophie jumped and Riley swiveled around. Neither had heard his approach.

  “You are,” Riley said, his voice challenging. Philip stopped cold, his gaze wavering between pale-faced Sophie and Riley, who was noticeably heated.

  “What’s going on here?” Philip narrowed his eyes, as he looked at them.

  “Mr. Dalcourt was just saying goodbye—”

  Riley cut her off. “You had better be good to her, Wainright. She’s an extraordinary lady and she deserves to be cherished.”

  “What business is that of yours?” Philip asked, moving to stand beside Sophie, taking hold of her trembling elbow.

  Riley looked at Sophie then, and she saw her own sadness reflected in his glossy brown eyes. She could feel her heart beating in the base of her throat, along with a million unshed tears.

  “It’s not my business at all,” he said, and with that, he left.

  She took a single step forward, then stopped. How humiliating, but she wanted to run after him and comfort him—Riley looked so sorrowful.

  “How odd!” Philip said, entering the room.

  Sophie watched Riley disappear, and then, after a moment’s pause, she turned to follow Philip. “Yes, wasn’t he?” she said brightly.

  Looking at Philip’s face, she smiled tentatively and he smiled back. He moved to the bed and started to sit.

  “No,” she yelled, then scanned it for any telltale signs, but she’d tidied it well enough. Even she couldn’t see the indentations of where she’d writhed only minutes earlier under Riley.

  Philip paused, half crouched, staring at her.

  “I mean, I need to dress.” She also needed to wash again. “You should wait downstairs.”

  He looked her up and down and she flushed. He took a step toward her.

  “Good thing you kept that man in the hall. That’s certainly not appropriate attire for entertaining a man in your room. But your fiancé, that’s another matter.”

  He encircled her in his arms, his hands smoothing up and down the silky material at her back. She tried to enjoy his familiar touch but, instead, it made her skin crawl. Not to mention that she felt like a harlot. She wanted to feel warm and loving and able to carry on normally. But, obviously, as she eased herself out of Philip’s embrace, this was simply too soon.

  “We don’t want to be late,” she said, putting her hand on his arm and pushing him toward the door.

  “Right,” he agreed, “I’ll be downstairs.” He bent his head to kiss her and she nearly gave him her cheek. She forced herself to keep still as his lips touched hers. She felt no stomach-flipping thrill, no desire to rip his clothes off, but then, she also didn’t feel the need to wipe her mouth, so that was something. Perhaps if he smelled like Riley . . .

  “More of that later,” he promised,
lifting his head and looking at her with what she could only describe as devotion.

  As she closed the door, she considered her future as pragmatically as possible, for it seemed that romantic notions were not to play a part. She could live on the memories of her single passionate encounter with Riley and she could be Philip’s faithful wife.

  Yes, she would be able to tolerate that, wouldn’t she?

  *****

  “Well, I can see why you fell for him the first time and why you could easily do it again.” Carling and Sophie were in the powder room of The Lick’s gorgeous dining room, touching up their noses and smoothing their hair halfway through their meal.

  Sophie’s eyes met Carling’s in the mirror. “You approve of him, then?”

  “Yes,” Carling said, “but he did break your heart, didn’t he? Don’t move too fast, Sophie. What’s to stop him from doing it again?”

  Yes, indeed. What if Philip took her back east and then changed his mind?

  “Well, if I marry him, I guess that seals the deal, so to speak.”

  Carling studied Sophie’s face.

  “What?” Sophie asked. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

  “Nah,” Carling said, “I was wondering about your Riley. Have you heard from him?”

  Sophie didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t spill the details of her intimate encounter with Riley from a few hours earlier; she’d crossed the line from the usual female talk about letting a man kiss you for a moment too long or letting a man touch your wrist. She had let Riley make love to her, knowing it was for one time only with no future and no declaration of love. It was shameless. And it had been wonderful.

  “You’re smiling,” Carling said, “so you have heard from him.”

  Sophie dodged the question. “He’s not here anymore. He left for Colorado a short while ago.” She imagined him on the Central Pacific, picturing the train she’d taken. He would switch to the Union Pacific and go as far as Cheyenne before heading south.

  “Hm. Well then, it’s a good thing you have Mr. Wainright. And quite a dishy fair-haired fellow he is, too. Come on. They’ll wonder what we’re up to.”

  “I doubt it. Isn’t discussing men what the powder room is for? Speaking of which, Egbert is so different away from the hotel, but also still so Egbert-ish.”

  Carling laughed. “Yes, he is. All the qualities I like about him are still there, but not the nasty hotel manager parts. I’m falling for him, you know?”

  Walking arm-in-arm, they rejoined their dates and Sophie squashed any stray feeling of disappointment that the man waiting for her at the table wasn’t Riley. That wasn’t fair to Philip.

  “We’ve been discussing vineyards,” announced Egbert.

  Sophie arched an eyebrow as she looked at Philip. “And what would you know about growing grapes.”

  “I know about drinking wine,” he said lightly, raising his glass and taking a sip. They all laughed.

  “He’s a thoughtful fellow,” Egbert added. “Helping me think quite clearly.”

  “Yes,” Sophie agreed, “he’s very thoughtful.” After all, that’s what a philosophy student specializes in. “And what are you thinking about?”

  Egbert smiled. “Moving, taking a chance, speculating, all that exciting stuff.”

  “Oh, yes?” Carling asked, probably thinking of her future.

  “Yes, and maybe some other exciting things,” Egbert said with a wink that Sophie caught. She was glad for her friend. It was all in front of her. Sitting next to Philip, she should feel the same way. So why did it seem as if the best part of her life was behind her, or at least on a train to Colorado?

  *****

  “Oh, Riley, I’m so glad you’re here.” Eliza threw herself into his arms as soon as she saw him. It was unusual for her to display that kind of need; she was not the clinging type, so he knew it was bad.

  He held her, but the difference between comforting Eliza and embracing Sophie was immediate. Nothing stirred in him, except concern. Nothing urged him to hold her tighter or kiss her. He simply rubbed her back and murmured inanities, useless as he knew them to be, until she got a hold of herself and pulled away.

  “You came so fast,” she sniffed and took a handkerchief from her sleeve. “He’s very poorly. Doc Cuthins is upstairs. He says it’ll be over soon.”

  That was just like the Doc to tell it like it was. His patients appreciated it and Riley intended to do the same in his practice, be it here in Spring . . . or somewhere else.

  “Would you like tea?” she offered.

  He knew she needed something to do. “Yes, thanks,” he accepted. “I’ll go upstairs and check on your father, and I’ll let you know what’s happening. I know you’ll want to be with him when the end draws near.”

  She paled. “Of course.”

  Later, in the quiet hours between midnight and one in the morning, Elijah Prentice passed away with his daughter and Riley on one side of him, the preacher on the other, and Doc Cuthins at the foot of the bed.

  Riley slept in the guest room so Eliza wouldn’t be alone in the house for the first time in her life. At five in the morning, she came to his room, all pale skin in her white shift and silken golden hair, eyes so light blue they were nearly transparent. She climbed into his bed and he welcomed her, putting his arms around her, feeling nothing but affection, knowing that was all he could expect from their marriage.

  “Do you want to make love to me, Riley?”

  He froze. If he was going to marry her, he’d have to, but right then, his sole thought was how he didn’t want to betray Sophie. He swallowed. “Do you want me to?”

  She laughed softly until he realized she was crying.

  “Eliza. Please don’t cry. Any man would be honored to make love to you.”

  “Any man but you.”

  He couldn’t lie, but sometime soon, after the vows, he would have to be intimate with her. “When we’re married— ”

  “We’re not getting married,” she said. He felt her wipe her face dry.

  “What are you saying? You’re lying in bed with me.”

  “I’m free to do what I want. This is my house. And don’t tell me you’ve never lain with a woman before whom you didn’t intend to marry.”

  That hit close to home and, again, his thoughts flew back to Sophie. It hadn’t been twenty-four hours and he was in bed with Eliza. What a cad! But if he closed his eyes and kept his hands on her, he could almost pretend . . .

  “Fine,” her voice broke in to his musings, “then we’ll marry today. I’ll talk to the justice of the peace.”

  Her emotions were bouncing faster than he could keep up. Marry, today?

  “Eliza, your father just passed. Give yourself some time to grieve.”

  “I am grieving, in here.” She thumped her chest. “But Daddy’s death wasn’t a surprise. I’m not stricken and shocked. I loved him, though I know most of the town didn’t feel that way. And he loved me, unconditionally.” A few silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Yes, he did. Anyone could see that.” Elijah was absolutely devoted to his daughter and she deserved that. She deserved that from a husband, as well. Hadn’t Riley said the same thing to Wainright about Sophie?

  He took a deep breath and held it a moment. He had to tell her what was in his heart.

  “Eliza, I don’t want to marry you.”

  “I know,” she raised her hand and touched his cheek. “And I don’t want to marry you, either. I only pushed you so you’d say it.”

  His brain was spinning.

  What in the hell just happened? She didn’t want to get married—not to him. She wasn’t screaming or crying or throwing things. In fact, as he breathed a sigh of relief, he felt her do the same.

  “I’m glad that’s finally out in the open,” she said, turning and snuggling closer, putting her head on his chest, as if they’d decided on what to eat for breakfast instead of breaking off a long-term engagement. But he felt like dancing, so glad was he t
hat he hadn’t hurt Eliza’s feelings.

  “Your hair smells good,” he said, knowing it was a silly statement.

  “I know.”

  He chuckled. “You’ve always been so sure. Even about us, I thought. I don’t understand you.”

  “Men are so easily manipulated,” she said, not unkindly. “I’m not so hard to figure out. I wanted to make my father happy. Making him think that I was marrying a doctor made him so; he liked you and it kept him at peace. I’m sorry I held on to you so long, Riley, but I couldn’t let our engagement end before he died, even though I knew you wanted it to.”

  “I see.” So she was the one letting him down easy, “but now that he’s gone, I can’t just . . . ”

  “I know. How would it look? You’d be that horrible Dalcourt man who broke my grieving heart. Why, when you came back here to practice, you wouldn’t be welcomed. You’d be a pariah.” She yawned. “I will make sure everyone knows that I waited until my father died and then chucked you aside to gain my freedom.” Her hand drifted idly up and down his chest until he captured it and held it still. “I’m getting out of Spring, Riley.”

  “What? Why?” He lifted his head a little to look at her.

  “I have been worse to you than you could imagine. In my heart of hearts, I love someone else. I always have.” She paused. “You look surprised.”

  “I am.” He was! “I had no idea.”

  “At times, I hoped you and I could marry and make a go of it, but I knew I couldn’t be the wife you need. Not the way, say, Sophie Malloy could.”

  He started at the sound of her name.

  “That’s what I thought,” Eliza said. “It’s all right. I’ve learned that we don’t choose whom we love.” She reached up and caressed his cheek. “And I appreciate that you didn’t abandon me for her, when you easily could have.” She pulled his head down and planted her lips on his. He held still as stone.

  When she drew back, she snuggled against him again. “Nope, nothing there. But I was pretending for a moment that you were him.”