An Irresistible Temptation (19 page)

“He’s sorry and he wants me back. He wants to
marry me.” There, she’d told him anyway.

He made a sound, like a low growl before
asking, “What do
you
want?”

Was she supposed to expose her heart to him,
right before he got on a train to go home to Eliza? She didn’t
answer but knew he could see it in her eyes.

“I want you, Sophie, but I know it’s wrong.”
He touched her lips with his thumb. She flinched. “You were made
for me, I think.”

Riley was looking at her but seemed to be
talking to himself. His hand went around and cupped the back of her
head and he lowered his lips again. At the same time, she felt him
kick out behind and heard the door close with a resounding slam.
She jumped and pulled away.

“We can’t do this, Riley.”

“I can’t remember why.” His voice, low and
tender, made her feel warm all over.

She started to cry, just a few tears that
slipped out before she could regain control.

“You know why.” Her voice trembled because
she, too, was finding it hard to think why it was wrong to be with
this man who enveloped all her senses and to whom she was drawn so
strongly that she ached to touch him.

He wiped at a tear with the back of his
finger. “I’m not sure any of those reasons are real. You’re all
that matters right now.”

What if she never saw him again?

What if she agreed to marry Philip?

Could she take the memories made with Riley
and let them sustain her over a lifetime? Dear God, what was she
thinking?

He shook his head as though waking up from
some enchantment.

“Christ! I’m sorry, Sophie. I didn’t come
here to upset you. I just wanted to look into your eyes again. I’ll
never forget your eyes or the way you look at me.” He gave her a
twisted smile that was more a grimace. “You
are
all that
matters right now.”

He stepped away from her. His jaw clenched.
“I will always remember how you made me feel when you played
piano.”

That got to her. She closed her eyes. Riley
understood that it wasn’t merely a gift of playing well; it was her
very soul that she expressed through the music.

“Don’t go.” Two words that would change
everything—they had slipped from her without her thinking.

“Sophie, don’t.” It was his turn to plead,
his voice gruff. “Please don’t look at me that way. I’m trying to
do the proper thing.” He retreated farther, until his back was
against the door.

“I’m tired of doing the proper thing,” she
said. “Here, in this room, there’s only you and me. Correct?”

He nodded. She moved closer, until she was
pressing
him
against the door. Still, his arms remained
resolutely at his sides, his fists clenched, though she noted a
bead of sweat break out on his forehead.

“And we’re adults, yes?” she persisted,
reaching up to kiss the skin at his neck as she had longed to do so
many times. Ah, vanilla. Gently, she bit him just to the side of
his Adam’s apple.
Irresistible.

“Sophie, you’ll hate me later, and I couldn’t
stand that. I don’t want to be someone who hurts you.” He looked up
at the ceiling away from her gaze.

“You already are.” She said it
matter-of-factly. It was true. But it wasn’t Riley’s fault. “I know
my heart will ache tomorrow and I’ll miss you terribly. But that’s
a price I’m willing to pay to have you make love to me.” She
touched his cheek and then rested her hand on his chest.

He swore and she felt him tremble under her
touch.

“Riley, I’ll miss you anyway, so why not have
this memory to take with us?”

His gaze locked with hers and she waited,
heart thumping wildly. What would she do if he walked out the door?
Then, he reached behind him and turned the lock. Swiftly, he
enclosed her in his arms and his mouth was on hers. She heard
herself whimper and his answering groan. He moved with her to her
bed where they tumbled together and he began pushing her robe down
her shoulders.

She wished she could tell him to slow down,
and that they could take their time. Instead, everything about this
was urgent. Her desire, his need, the chance of being caught, the
ferry’s departure, then the connecting train. No, this wouldn’t be
slow and sweet. Rather than Schumann’s
Träumerei
, this would
be as fervent as the beginning of Chopin’s
Fantasie
Impromptu
, as their mouths and hands were everywhere at
once.

His weight lifted and while she unbelted her
robe, he tore off his jacket and tossed it to the floor, followed
by his shoes, socks, and his trousers. He came back to her still
yanking at his tie, until he gave up and started working on his
shirt buttons, but she knew he wouldn’t make it in time and she’d
never get to see him fully naked standing before her.

For her part, she was sinfully bare except
for the sleeves of her robe, which spread out from under her along
with the rest of it, the deepest midnight-blue silk.

“You look like a luminous mermaid in the dark
sea.” He lowered himself gradually over her.

The weight of his strong body thrilled her
and she couldn’t stop her hips from arching up to grind against
him. She felt his answering thrust, felt the smooth length of him
against her pelvis.

He kissed his way down her neck to the hollow
of her throat, and she laughed. It was a desperate, joyful sound.
At last, she could feel his muscles against her and breathe deeply
the clean scent of him. Riley.

He nipped the skin at her neck as she had
done to his. Then his mouth moved over her collar bone, then lower
between her swelling breasts. He brushed the side of his face
against one nipple that beaded instantly, then he moved to the
other to grasp it between his lips, his tongue circling it with
precision. She arched against him again but he was slipping lower.
She wanted to experience all of these new wondrous sensations, but
she needed the act of mating with him before their time ran
out.

She started to spread her thighs, and, as his
mouth continued to play across her skin, tasting her, he skimmed
his hand down her flat stomach to her woman’s core and cupped her.
She bucked. Having his large palm on her heated mound was far
different than her own hand. He pressed her with the base of his
palm, watching her face. She moaned out a sigh, then his finger
slipped between the folds touching the bud that she’d only ever
felt for herself, and she sucked in her breath. Closing her eyes,
she let her head fall back.

“God, Riley, I—”

“Sh, just let me touch you. You’re
perfect.”

She felt his finger dip inside her and knew
he could feel her growing slick with desire. Then he slipped a
second finger inside her. She’d never done that, and it felt
delightful. But why was he wasting time pleasuring her with his
hands when he had the male part that would utterly complete
her?

“Please,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he said, his voice rasping.

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.

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.