An Irresistible Temptation (33 page)

She nodded, but she had no idea what he was
talking about. She didn’t fear him. How could she? But she couldn’t
face him either, not while on the verge of breaking down. She
pressed her free hand to the door frame and rested her forehead
against it.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he hadn’t
moved an inch away from her.

She knew she had to leave before she broke
down completely and embarrassed herself. But in the next instant,
she was enveloped in Riley’s arms, pulled back against him, his
torso plastered against her back. She felt him press his face into
her hair and then he was still—except for the throbbing of his warm
body, answered by the strumming in her ears of her own blood.
Despite his bath, he held the scent of leather and sunshine, mixed
with his vanilla soap. She found it intoxicating and she nearly
relaxed into his embrace. Then his words replayed in her brain:
Maybe
I hoped you weren’t.

She dashed at the tears that were falling
with the back of her hand.
Damnit.
No more tears over men,
she told herself, sternly, trying desperately to get control. He
turned her so gently in his arms, then raised her pale face to his,
groaning at what he saw.

“Sophie, don’t cry,” he whispered. And he
kissed the path of a tear down her face until he was at the corner
of her mouth. “Not over me. I’m not worth it.”

Shocked that he would say such a thing, she
pulled back. “Of course you are.”

“I’ve treated you badly,” he said, “from
beginning to end. You were an unattainable shooting star, and I had
no business roping you in.” His eyes stared into hers, warm,
intelligent, and haunted. “But I couldn’t leave you alone. I had to
know you and talk to you.” He paused and then he ran his hand over
her cheek. “And touch you.”

She could barely breathe. He slipped his
other hand behind her head, cradling her in his large palm; he
pulled her mouth against his, his kiss sweet and desperate, and
filled with all the yearning they both felt.

His words filled her ears but made no sense.
The only thing that made sense was how she felt in his arms. She
returned his kiss, returned his touch, slipping her hands into his
damp hair. Then his towel moved again, low against her stomach. She
pressed against his erection and moaned, hearing his answering
growl.

In a swift movement, he lifted her into his
arms. Silently, he carried her up the stairs to his room. She
didn’t notice the surroundings, until she felt the bed under her
back, then his fingers at the buttons of her blouse. She did notice
that he’d lost his towel along the way and was, for the first time,
buck naked in front of her.

She sucked in her breath.
Was a more
magnificent sight ever beheld?

In a few minutes, she was as naked as he was.
He’d even removed all the pins from her hair, so it fell around her
shoulders and pillowed her head. They had nothing between them but
what they’d come into the world with. And then they started to
explore.

He was bolder than her, at first. Kissing a
tingling trail down her arched neck and between her breasts. He
didn’t linger at her nipples, but went down to her bellybutton,
dropping a kiss on it before inserting his tongue. She giggled.

She sobered up with lightning speed when he
went lower. His mouth explored her, as if she were a delicacy,
dropping kisses all along one thigh and calf and ankle and all the
way up the other side; all the while, he rested one hand almost
lazily over one of her breasts and with his other hand, he began to
play her body with earnest, until she breathed out his name.

Feeling as though she were sizzling with her
desire for this man, she tugged at him, demanding to feel his whole
hard body over her. It was the only thing that stopped her from
floating away, she thought, parting her legs so Riley could settle
between them.

He covered her mouth with his own, kissing
her deeply, and she grabbed his hair with both hands, holding him,
afraid that he would disappear, or change his mind, the moment she
let him go. Until she looked in his eyes and knew he wasn’t going
to change his mind.

No words passed between them as he rose and
put on protection; she couldn’t help watching, her gaze roaming up
and down his body and settling on his shaft. She saw him swallow
hard.

Rejoining her on the bed, he ran his hand
over her taut stomach and then bent to kiss her nipple, stopping to
suck first one, then the other, as his fingers played over the
curls between her legs.

“Mm,” she said, pressing up against his
hand

“Mm,” he answered against her breast. His
finger slipped inside her channel, and she gasped. She was plainly
ready for him and he didn’t make her wait any longer. Moving over
her body, he pressed his erection against her core and worked his
way gently inside.

“Mm,” she sighed again. And then, “ohh” as he
went in farther, filling her, stretching her.

He was resting on his forearms, his body
moving back and forth, and she easily matched his pace, delighting
in the sensation as he pulled back almost all the way out of her
and then surged forward. He kissed her again, moving his tongue in
sweet mimicry of his lower body.

The feelings swept over her like chords of
music, vibrating through her entire frame. And then the tempo
increased and she had to hang on to him. His lips found the pulse
at her neck, rasping her skin with his teeth.

“Sophie,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse
and strained to her ears.

“Yes?” she asked, equally breathless.

“God knows I love you.”

She heard an eagle cry overhead as their
crescendo built and her whole body was coiling like a spring for
him. He glided his hand between their bodies and lightly slid a
finger between the petals at the apex of her thighs, touching her
where she throbbed. She climaxed, fully and sweetly, her body
clenching and unclenching, squeezing around his shaft. A moment
later, she felt him pump a little faster and then stiffen and hold
still as he peaked.

Afterward, his whole body seemed to grow even
warmer and become spineless, as he melted onto her, seemingly
spent. When she thought she might have to poke him to let her
breathe, he rolled to the side. She watched him remove the
protection and place it on his bedside table.

Her heart was quivering along with the rest
of her, on the brink between joy and sadness. All the pain he’d
given her. “You lied,” she said to him. He did love her. “Why?”

Riley lay back down and pulled a blanket over
them both.

“You know why,” he said. He rolled on his
back and put his arm over his eyes. “Can you imagine living
here?”

“With you?” she asked, surprised.

“Yup, right here in Spring City.”

She hesitated, and he laughed abruptly and
without humor.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

“Wait. You didn’t give me a chance,” she
protested, trying to think through the idea. No San Francisco
Symphony, no exquisite grand piano, no orchestra to play with. The
thoughts stole her breath away.

On the other hand, she’d have Riley, every
day. His smile, his eyes, his sense of humor, his intelligence, his
company. Could she live for him alone?

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“No,” he fairly grunted his reply. Then
silence, but he wasn’t trying to hurt her. Her whole body still
tingled with how much he loved her.

“You won’t ask me to marry you?”

“That’s right. You might talk yourself into
it and then you’d hate me.”

“I wouldn’t,” she protested.

“Well,
I’d
hate me. I’ve seen you
perform. That’s where you belong, on the stage. That’s what you’re
supposed to do with your life.”

She’d always felt that way, but still, she
didn’t like him making the decision for her.

“I could perhaps teach piano here.”

He snorted. “Where? On Charlotte Sanborn’s
old piano? Or, maybe you didn’t notice the little upright at Ada’s.
The only time I’ve heard it is when some guy drinks too much and
backs Ada up against it. Her butt plays two octaves.”

She puffed out her disapproval. He wasn’t
making this easy. “I could have my own piano shipped from Boston. I
could set up a music school.”

He rolled over onto his side and rested his
head on his arm, looking directly at her. “Sophie, I know you would
try to make that work. But, in case you haven’t noticed, Spring
City has a couple hundred people. Plenty to keep me busy, but very,
very few who will be interested in piano lessons, or who could
afford it.”

“So you lied to get rid of me?”

He traced a finger over her cheek and down
her throat, stopping in the hollow between her breasts before he
looked up at her again. “Yup. I figured if you knew how I felt, you
would sacrifice your dreams for mine, like a sweet, selfless
martyr. It killed me to hurt you like that. You know that now,
right?”

She couldn’t speak; she could hardly think
with his finger still resting between her breasts. Then he added,
“You’re a huckleberry above most people’s persimmon.”

She chuckled. “You sound like Charlotte.”

“Do I?” he asked.

“So you
do
love me?”

Slowly, idly, he circled each of her nipples
and she felt them pucker. “Yup.”

“And you know I love you?” she asked.

He broke into a slow, broad smile and leaned
down to kiss her, sending warmth sparking through her body clear
down to her toes.

“Yup,” he answered.

“And you’d like me to be your wife?”

His face darkened and he sighed. “Nope.”

“Damn it, Riley!” She sat up in bed, then
realized her own nakedness and grabbed the blanket as she stood,
not caring that she left him entirely exposed. She wished there was
a bathroom she could storm into. She ought to be over the moon—the
man she loved and had yearned for all these months loved her, too.
Instead, Sophie was angry.

“Turn around so I can dress,” she ordered
and, with a bemused expression, he complied.

“Seems a bit late for that,” he muttered,
facing the wall.

“It’s never too late for courtesy,” she said,
putting on her stockings and her shift before hauling on her skirt
and then her blouse, starting to work on her buttons with shaking
hands.

“Can I turn around now?” Riley asked.

“Yes,” she said, sitting on the bed to lace
up her ankle high shoes. She couldn’t do much with her hair without
a brush and a mirror.

She felt him move and then heard him pull out
a dresser drawer. When he came around to her side of the bed, he
was wearing a clean pair of jeans and was pulling on a shirt. It
was easier to address him after he was covered.

“I’m going now,” she said.

He nodded.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say?”

“I told you, Sophie, you shouldn’t have
come.” He ran a hand through his still-damp hair that was already
standing up in a million different directions. “I guess I should
tell you again that I’m sorry. But, hell, if the woman I love is
going to show up in my kitchen like a fanciful spirit, looking so
damned beautiful, then I’m going to make love to her in the middle
of the afternoon.” He dropped to his knees in front of her. “And
I’ve missed you so much, Sophie. It’s hard to be sorry about what
we just did.”

The anger deflated right out of her.

“I missed you, too.”

He closed his eyes a moment before his soft,
tawny gaze fixed on hers. “Now for that, I
am
sorry. I tried
to be such a bastard you’d hate me and not miss me at all.”

“You’re not very good at being hateful.”
Actually, he had been pretty darn convincing, but that was neither
here nor there.

“Tell that to the good folks of Spring
City.”

She could think of nothing more to say,
except “I’m willing to stay here and be your wife, Riley. I want
you to know that.”

He stood up and pulled her with him, holding
her close and then he kissed her, a gentle caress across her lips.
All too brief, and then he stepped back. “I won’t let you throw
your gift away, Sophie Malloy. How could any man who loved you do
that?”

He grabbed her by the hand and led her
downstairs. She found herself out on the front step before she
could say “boo.” She was being shown the door most certainly by the
most grim-faced Riley she’d ever seen.

He didn’t even let her say goodbye.

Sophie’s heart felt about as light as lead.
She cried herself to sleep and woke up feeling beyond desolate. She
desperately wanted to get back in front of her piano and heal
herself with its magic. Charlotte’s untuned upright was simply not
doing the trick. She needed the rich soul-soothing sounds of her
grand on stage at the concert hall.

On the other hand, she couldn’t face the idea
of the train trip that would take her away from Riley. Again.
Perhaps forever. She didn’t really want to live here. She felt
out-of-place, and the one person who could make it feel like home
wouldn’t ask her to stay anyway. Still, he
was
hers, clearly
he belonged to her body and soul, as she did to him, and to be
alone without him in San Francisco was far worse than being here
without her orchestra.

If only, he’d let her make the decision.
Instead, he seemed hell bent on forcing her on the first train out.
He’d sent Dan over with a ticket for the next morning’s train, as
if he couldn’t risk coming over himself. She knew why—sparks would
fly as soon as they were alone, and they’d end up in bed again.

Not that that was such a bad thing, Sophie
mused, with a sad smile as she sipped her tea, sitting on the piano
bench. She picked up the ticket she’d placed on top of the piano.
She would use it tomorrow. She had no other choice.