An Irresistible Temptation Read online

  Once inside, he pressed her back against the door, his face close to hers. She looked so kissable, and despite everything he’d said to her he ached to kiss her.

  “I can’t see you anymore,” he said.

  “You don’t have to love me,” she whispered, then looked ashamed. It broke his heart. She believed that he didn’t love her. That was the point, after all. But she had to know how wonderful she was.

  “Don’t say that,” he said harshly. “Any man would be lucky to have you and to love you.”

  “But not you,” her voice trembled slightly. God, this was agony! He’d had nearly the same conversation with Eliza but for a vastly different reason and with opposite results.

  He had to answer her: “No, not me.”

  Sophie closed her eyes, her beautiful, dark, shining eyes, but not before he saw her pain, mirroring his own. Lightly, he touched her chin, tilting her face toward his. She opened her eyes as his mouth came down on hers. As soon as he felt her lips, he faltered. She was so warm, so easy to love. She was his woman, his Sophie. Damn! He ground hard against her lips, demanding she open her mouth for his tongue. He forced the warmth encircling his heart to turn to pure heat that tugged at his groin. With his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her up against him, crushing her to him.

  He felt angry. Not at her. Not even at himself. But why had he been given this incredible creature to love in a lifetime when loving her would mean destroying her dreams? At the very moment in time when he must start fulfilling his lifelong promise to the man to whom he owed everything, she was starting a career that promised to be dazzling, fulfilling, spectacular—exactly what she deserved.

  Of their own accord, his hands were moving down her body, grasping, kneading, holding her firmly against him, his hips pressing into hers. It took a few moments for him to realize that she was struggling to break free from his punishing kiss and the brutal onslaught that accompanied it.

  “Riley?” Her voice reached him, a little scared, confused, heartbroken. He was making it worse; he had to get it over with.

  “We can do this, here, now,” he said, hearing his own voice low and raspy. “Is that what you want? With a man who doesn’t love you?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  She felt as though he’d slapped her and in return, she raised her palm and struck him across the cheek. Then she gasped and buried her face in her hands. Why was he being so horrible? This wasn’t her Riley.

  Slowly, he released her and moved around her to the door. She felt his hand on her hair, stroking it ever so lightly.

  “Good bye, Sophie Malloy. I will always remember you.”

  Just like that, he was gone. She burst into tears, sinking down onto the floor, and sobbing. She couldn’t catch her breath for crying so hard, couldn’t imagine ever moving from that spot, couldn’t think beyond the last terrible moments. She had believed Philip loved her and had been surprised when he’d cast her off. Now, Riley. This hurt so much more. She knew why—because her whole heart loved Riley dearly, unlike the comfortable affection she’d felt for Philip. This was passion—pure, devoted love—and it seemed impossibly cruel that it was one-sided.

  After a few minutes, she quietened, trying to breathe deeply and evenly. Grabbing at the hem of the nearest coat, Sophie used it to wipe her face.

  Damn him to hell, she thought. Then she got off the floor. Damn him and damn her, too.

  *****

  The applause was deafening. It had been an absolutely successful night, and Sophie felt her heart grow lighter for the first time in weeks. She would be on a train soon, going home to see her family and she could hardly wait.

  It had been impossible to put Riley out of her mind as easily as he’d cut her out of his life, even though she’d spent less time with him than without him, and even less time thinking they had a chance together. Still, she’d believed they had an uncanny bond, a deep understanding, and now, she felt forsaken.

  Try as she might, her music career no long filled her with the utmost joy. It was her sole source of pleasure, but it was no longer nearly effortless. It was bloody hard work—hard to focus, hard to memorize, hard to even play the right notes consistently. And it took all of her remaining concentration to follow Henry and make sure she didn’t let down the other musicians. For that, Sophie felt a spark of anger toward Riley.

  Despite the strain felt by its primary pianist, the symphony’s audiences had grown and the papers were filled with praise every time they performed. However, after the curtain closed, when Sophie lay alone at night, she thought of Riley and what might have been. Then, she was distraught . . . and puzzled. She had been so sure of his feelings for her, as strong as her own for him. If he had truly been using her, he could have had her a second time in her apartment, but he hadn’t.

  His words demanding freedom made sense. A man in a long, loveless relationship could only take so much, but he was the one who had come to find her backstage on opening night. Why? She asked herself that a hundred times. She felt as though she’d been carefully playing an intricate movement when someone removed a measure, maybe two, from the middle. She was lost, failing to grasp at something elemental and obvious, something she was overlooking.

  She grasped her sheet and tossed it up over her head, tired of the ache in her heart. But she no longer looked for him or even hoped to bump into him. That would be too painful.

  *****

  “It’s freezing. You’re crazy,” Sophie yelled at her sister Rose above the sound of the surf. The beach was covered in the previous night’s snow. She had allowed Rose to talk her into a midday train trip to the frigid beach, supposedly to look at the gulls and the breakers.

  “I don’t care. It’s sunny and beautiful and it all looks like something out of a painting,” Rose shouted back.

  “I can hardly hear you.”

  “Sophie, when you play piano, is it magic for you, like making love to a man?”

  That, she heard!

  “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  Her younger sister pointed along the isolated beach.

  Standing on the boardwalk at the far end was a man, in naval garb, evidently waiting for them. Rose gave her older sister a quick smile and started running toward him. Sophie sighed, hugging her thick wool cloak around her while the December wind tried to whip it away. Rose was in love. Again. It was going to be an interesting Christmas.

  Luckily, Rose’s latest tremendous passion became everyone’s focus over the holidays, leaving Sophie out of the spotlight. After congratulations from her family and friends on her success, Sophie didn’t want to answer questions about why she’d given Philip the mitten months earlier, or whether another prospect waited in the wings.

  None of them knew Riley Dalcourt or how her heart was in a deep-freeze as chilled as the Atlantic Ocean. Still, she was grateful for her new life.

  When she had a quiet moment alone with Charlotte, she thanked her.

  “My life would be so empty if you hadn’t brought Henry Hadley to listen to me.”

  Charlotte arched a delicate eyebrow.

  Sophie laughed. “No, nothing like that. Henry is quite smitten with our visiting soprano, and I couldn’t be happier for him. But the symphony has become my family away from home.”

  “Speaking of home,” her sister-in-law said, “I forgot to tell you I had a lovely Christmas card with a letter from Sarah Cuthins.”

  Just the name, so unexpected, was like a sharp pinch. Sarah and Doc and Riley were irrevocably entangled in her mind, and Sophie’s thoughts flew from one to the other to the next, until she was picturing Riley’s last terrible kiss and his harsh words.

  “Sophie, are you listening to me?”

  “Sorry, Charlotte, I was miles away.”

  “Thinking of Spring City? I know I was. Sarah said they’re getting ready to travel as soon as the snows let up and the seasons change again. Most likely, by April or May, they’ll be able to leave.”

  “So Doctor Cuthins is
retiring?”

  “Well, he can now. I don’t know if you ever met Riley Dalcourt?” Charlotte asked.

  Another sharp pinch from the past. Sophie blushed but lowered her head to hide it, feigning interest in her own hands. She started absentmindedly doing finger exercises while Charlotte spoke.

  “He was probably away when you were in Spring, though I’m sure you met his fiancée, or rather ex-fiancée, Eliza. Bane of my existence, that girl, and for the life of me, I never knew what I did to annoy her, but she loved to tease me.”

  Sophie wrinkled up her nose. She couldn’t lie to Charlotte. “Yes, I met her. And Mr. Dalcourt, actually. Why do you ask?”

  “Sarah said that Eliza ended her engagement. It was the talk of Spring, more so when she up and left town. So strange! Well, you saw for yourself how handsome Riley is.” She tapped her foot. “And of course, you must have met Mr. Webster? His granddaughter is getting married. And someone played a prank and put piglets in the general store overnight.”

  Charlotte had a faraway look, and Sophie waited, feeling anything but patient. What was the news about Riley?

  “Anyway, Riley became a doctor, at last, and is, indeed, working with Doc.” Charlotte laughed. “I guess they’ll be calling them both ‘Doc’ now.”

  Sophie couldn’t say she was surprised exactly. She remembered Riley’s words about owing Doc Cuthins, for helping him and setting him on the right path. But somehow, after seeing him in San Francisco and having been in the modern hospital, she found it difficult to picture Riley back in Doc’s small, rustic practice in Spring City.

  “With Riley able to take over, Sarah can finally come visit me,” Charlotte prattled on. “She and Doc can go on to Europe, too, if they want.”

  “How lovely for them.” Sophie murmured, but her mind was on Riley being back in Spring City. How long had he known he was going back? He’d never said anything about it, never discussed his plans with her.

  She remembered thinking she would go anywhere if he asked her, wondering why Eliza had even hesitated. But now, she reconsidered. Riley was going to stay in Colorado, taking over as the town doctor. He would no doubt find a local lady to marry, hopefully someone as good and patient as Sarah, if that was possible. In twenty years, would he have a wife who was dying to get out of Spring City and travel? Would his wife wait that long?

  Sophie swallowed, admitting to herself that, at this moment in time, she couldn’t imagine giving up the symphony, though, in all likelihood, she would have done so for Riley. Yes, feeling the way she felt about him after he’d declared his love so softly on the bridge, if he’d asked her, she would have gone with him. And she would have hated it! And Riley knew that.

  At last, there was the missing measure of the music she’d been going over in her head: Riley knew she loved him, knew she’d go with him to the ends of the earth, and knew she’d be utterly miserable. Could it be that simple? Was that why he asked her in that awful last meeting, Are you supremely happy? She remembered that she told him she was. And he’d made sure to severe their relationship with his absolutely cruel behavior. But what about Riley’s happiness?

  “And Dan Freeman says hello,” Charlotte concluded and looked at Sophie. “You seem distracted.”

  “I think I need to play piano. I’ve been slacking lately.”

  “Yes,” Charlotte agreed, her face deadpan, “Rose said you’d only played for four hours yesterday.”

  “I should have played for five,” Sophie said with a wry smile.

  *****

  “I am so very glad you put this off until now,” Sophie said, as Egbert tucked a blanket around her and Carling. “I would have hated to miss this monumental trip.” Which would be all the better if Riley were beside her. Stop, stop, stop, she admonished herself for the millionth time in a week. Put Riley in the past where he belonged.

  “Go on with you,” Carling said, squeezing her arm. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  They started out in a brougham for wine country with Sophie trying to take pleasure in the normal things in life. This was her life, after all. Riley had made his decision, and if, as she surmised, he’d made it without giving her a choice in the matter, then she could do nothing about it.

  “So what’s the plan, soon-to-be-Mrs. Egbert Hull?” Sophie asked, inwardly begging to be distracted from her wayward thoughts. Even discussing her friend’s engagement—with its double edge of happiness and loss—was better than brooding. The ring that Carling had waggled in front of Sophie when she’d returned from her Christmas in Boston contained one sweetly sparkling diamond, with a promise of a summer wedding. They planned to move north immediately after.

  Carling squealed with excitement and Egbert leaned back from the driver’s seat and kissed her full on the mouth. Sophie smiled, never expecting to see that out in the open, but Carling was good for him and vice versa. Apparently, they were the opposite to her and Riley, whose paths had never been going in the same direction from the moment they’d met.

  “We’re going to visit Charles Krug,” Egbert answered for her, “a super fellow. He apprenticed for Haraszthy at Buena Vista winery and then for Patchett, so he’s full of information and tips. Says drinking wine keeps him young, but he’s very long in the tooth, and I want to pick his brain a little before he . . . ,” he trailed off and then coughed delicately.

  Egbert patted the pad of paper beside him. “Anyway, I’m going to take all sorts of notes. We’ll stay with the Burris family—they’ve got grape vines, too—and then visit the land for sale in the morning before heading home.”

  Sophie felt a pang of melancholy. Riley had been the one to suggest they all stay with a friend of his father’s, David Burris and his wife, Julia, on their 300 acres when the trip was first discussed. Riley was so very far away and it was likely she would never lay eyes on him again.

  “What is it, love?” Carling asked.

  Sophie shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Why don’t you tell us all about your new gentleman friend?” Carling suggested, going exactly in the direction that Sophie wished to avoid—for though she was letting one of the violinists take her to dinner now and again, it was a pale, watery version of spending time with Riley.

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “I could tell you about Haraszthy’s Report on Grapes and Wine of California. It’s a bit outdated, from 1858, but still very good information.”

  They settled back and let Egbert talk.

  *****

  As Valentine’s Day came and went, Sophie found herself with more suitors than she could ever imagine. A talented, educated, single Eastern lady was rather an oddity in the sometimes rough-and-ready city of San Francisco. She was asked out by nearly every unattached man in the symphony, as well as some who were attached. She was asked out by audience members who lingered after the curtain went up. She was asked out by men she met on the cable car.

  To one and all, she said “No, thank you.”

  She’d felt the kind of love that grew steadily over time with Philip and she’d felt the type of love that hit you at first sight with Riley, even if that turned out to be fleeting, perhaps more lust than love on his part. In any case, she didn’t want to feel either for a while.

  Instead, she had music and more music to occupy her. Henry talked of their young symphony going on tour, not internationally, just a few states that had halls large enough. It would raise money and let them stretch their talents.

  Sophie tried to gain enthusiasm for the idea of a late-summer trip, but, in truth, she’d had enough moving about in trains for a while. She loved the hilly city and her new apartment, and had no desire to leave either.

  “You’re getting all sedentary,” Carling teased over drinks.

  “Oh my goodness,” Sophie exclaimed. “What will I do without you? Only a few more months and you’ll be gone.” She thought she might cry as the realization hit her that she’d be alone in the city; it was almost like having to start over. Aga
in.

  “We’ll be so close, nothing compared to how far away your family is.”

  Sophie felt more tears prick. Could her music be everything for her? Was it worth missing out on her family? And the unbearable question that always cropped up in her mind, Had her musical gift cost her Riley?

  “Oh, dear,” Carling got up and came around the table to hug her. “Sorry, that was stupid.”

  Sophie dabbed at her eyes. “No, it’s fine. I’m all weepy today. Let’s discuss the music for your wedding and that’ll cheer me up.

  “Did someone say a wedding?” Egbert asked, sitting down. “I have the license right here.” He patted his pocket. “And I have great news. I now have the title to the land in Sonoma, and it has a farmhouse on it, maybe nice enough to be a little inn someday.”

  Carling squealed and threw her arms around Egbert.

  “And to think, a year ago, I thought you were Mr. Hoity-Toity Stuffy.”

  “What?” Egbert looked shocked.

  “I thought that, too, when I first met you,” Sophie confessed. “Starch in your unmentionables, and all that.”

  Egbert turned red at the mention of his unmentionables. “Well, I’ll have to work on the impression I give to people when I’m a winemaker and an innkeeper.”

  “Go on with you,” Carling said. “You just be you, and I’ll handle the social niceties.”

  They dovetailed into the perfect pair. Like Charlotte and Reed and . . . Sarah and Doc. That was how it should be. She and Riley would never have had that, if he was going to be a country doctor. It was clearly for the best that he had not fallen in love with her after all.

  She stood up. “I’m heading home. I’ve a long day of rehearsing tomorrow.”