An Irresistible Temptation (6 page)

“Nope,” said Riley. “They were lucky. The
railroad’ll be sending out people to clear it all away and get the
trains moving again. Nothing stops the railroad.”

It was dark out and Sophie realized all she
wanted was to get home and get to bed. And Alfred needed feeding
and watering. She rose to her feet.

“If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be
heading home.”

Riley stood up immediately, then stretched up
his arms and stretched his neck, side to side. “I’ll take you.”

“No, that’s all right,” Sophie said, looking
to see if Sarah and Doc were coming. She imagined riding on his
horse again, pressed back against the length of his lean, muscled
body, and she knew that wasn’t a good idea, not when she was tired.
Luckily, Sarah stood up.

“Sophie and I will head home together,” she
said, brooking no argument.

“I’ll see you both home,” Riley said. “It’s
on my way.”

“What about Doc?” Sophie asked. Riley laughed
as if it were an absurd question.

“He’ll sleep in the back room, just in case.
It’s what he’s always done, when someone’s birthing, dying, or
anything in between.”

The three of them stepped outside into the
cool night air. As if she’d been waiting, Eliza alighted from her
wagon. She had a basket with her.

“Here’s my talented man,” she said. “I’ve
brought you a hot meal, some soup and some fresh-baked bread.”

Riley sighed. “I think I’m too tired to eat,
Eliza. I’m was going to head home.” Sophie couldn’t help but notice
how clean and fresh Eliza looked in comparison to the rest of
them—“battered and bloodied” came to mind.

“Nonsense, you have to eat. See, I had your
horse brought up.” He was tied to the back of Eliza’s wagon. “Get
in, Riley. I’m taking you home and feeding you. And that’s
that.”

“What about the ladies?” he asked, casting a
look at them, his eyes fixing on Sophie’s.

“Don’t you worry about us, Riley,” Sarah
said. “You were a wonderful healer today. Now, go spend some time
with your fiancée and the two of us will get ourselves home.”

Sophie spared him a glance and found him
still staring at her. Quickly, she looked away, grateful when Sarah
grabbed her hand and started across the street to the wagon.

“Thanks again,” Riley called after them, and
Sophie knew it was for her.

She simply nodded and waved, not wanting to
look back and see Eliza with her perfectly clean hand on Riley’s
arm. But she heard Eliza add, “Riley, I even made you some fresh
iced tea.”

That made Sophie turn, just as Eliza shot her
a glance of pure malice.

Sophie shuddered.
She couldn’t get out of
this town fast enough.

The sun splayed across her face, awaking her
the next day. Stretching, she sat up and realized it was late. Very
late for her. Back home, noises of the city always had her up
early. Here, no noises intruded to wake her, and she’d found
herself sleeping longer each morning. Today, she had an excuse. The
previous evening’s toil could be blamed for her staying in bed
until the sun was high in the sky.

She dressed and ate and went to the piano,
working on a song she hadn’t realized she was writing in bits and
pieces over the past few days until it came out of her all at once,
flowing easily from her head to her fingers.

Lost in the music, she didn’t hear him until
he spoke.

“Damn. That was beautiful.”

She jumped up.

“Riley, how did you . . .?”

She left off, trying to catch her breath at
finding him standing in the parlor doorway. Her heart was racing,
she couldn’t deny it. He wasn’t covered in grime; in fact, he
looked very good, as if he’d taken extra care with his appearance.
She wanted to tell him that he looked good either way and bit her
own tongue, unsure what impropriety might pop out.

“I was about to knock when I heard the most
unbelievable music . . . and it was you,” he said, wonder in his
voice, his eyes fixed on her as if he hadn’t seen her before. “The
door was unlocked,” he added.

Sophie was blushing again for the second time
in as many days.
What was it with this man?
However,
s
he saw no reason to pretend modesty. She was good and she
knew it. So all she said was, “Thank you.”

Then what? What did he want? “Can I get you a
cup of tea or coffee?”

“I’d rather hear you play some more,” he
said, coming closer and taking a seat in the parlor.

Sophie stared at him a moment. She’d played
for large audiences with nary a qualm when performing at school,
but now, wanting to play flawlessly for Riley, she felt a few raw
nerves. It was an odd sensation.

“All right.” She sat back down and, flicking
her long, nearly black hair over her shoulders, she closed her eyes
a moment and decided what to play. Not her own composition that
he’d stumbled upon, but something really spectacular. Of
course—Mozart’s
Rondo alla Turca
.

She started and played for five minutes, then
ten, not noticing the passing of time but occasionally looking over
at him. He sat with his eyes closed, taking it in. She liked that.
It was easier to play without him watching her. When she finished,
after the last resonance receded, there was only silence. Then
Riley’s chair creaked and he stood up and came over to her.

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet.
Then he took her other hand and brought her round to face him. She
thought he’d say that she played well. It was, after all, a
difficult piece. Yet as she looked up into his warm brown eyes, she
caught her breath at what she saw. She knew what was coming; she’d
seen that look on a man’s face before, and she couldn’t move even
if she’d wanted to.

Sure enough, Riley lowered his head and
brought his lips down to hers.

Sophie stayed frozen. She should step back
and slap him. She should scream at his outrageous behavior. She did
neither. Instead, she leaned in to his tender kiss, and as she did
so, whatever was happening between them ignited like wildfire.

His mouth slanted across hers and his lips
moved against her own, while his hands dropped hers to encircle her
waist and pull her closer. Her nostrils were filled with the scent
of him, clean vanilla and a hint of leather. Her own hands moved up
to rest against his broad chest, and she could feel the staccato of
his heartbeat, loud and fierce against her sensitive fingers.

When his mouth became more insistent and
opened against hers, she felt his teeth tug at her lower lip and
her knees went weak.

“Sophie,” he half-whispered, half-groaned
against her mouth.

She was about to pull away, knew that she had
to, but before she did, she barely touched his lip with her tongue.
Suddenly, his hands were buried in her hair, pulling her closer,
and instead of letting go, she was lifting her arms around his neck
and standing on tiptoe to give him better access.

She relished the feel of her breasts grazing
the front of him and her taut nipples being crushed between them.
His tongue was urging her lips apart and she opened them, letting
him slip inside. Instantly, she felt a low flutter in her stomach
and, a moment later, dampness between her legs.

“Riley,” she said, her voice and her
breathing ragged. “Please.”
Stop this madness
,
for I
cannot.
Let me go
, she urged silently.

As if he’d heard her unspoken pleas, he did
stop, pressing his forehead to her own. Eyes closed, breathing
heavy.

“Damn.”

She was caught by the tone of his voice,
shaken, stunned, and sensual.

“Damn,” she said back. And he laughed softly,
still locked in their close embrace, so she could feel all his body
moving as he did. But she had the distinct notion that he didn’t
think it any more amusing than she did.

“What
was
that?” he asked at last,
leaning away so he could look into her face, keeping his hands on
her waist.

That was splendid
, she wanted to say;
however, as he gently ran his thumb across her lower lip, she
stepped away.

“It was completely wrong, that’s what it
was.” She went down the hall to the kitchen on unsteady legs.

“Because of Eliza?” He was following closely
behind her.

“Of course,” she said without turning around.
“You are engaged to be married. You are in love with your fiancée.”
She hated that her words sounded more like a question than a
statement.
Wasn’t he?

“I
am
engaged,” he agreed, causing her
a pang of regret she had no right to feel.

He sat down heavily at the kitchen table and,
still without looking at him, Sophie lit the stove with shaky hands
and put on the kettle. When she had her emotions in check, she
turned. He had his head in his hands.

“But I don’t love her,” he said without
looking up, muffled into his hands. “I care about her because I’ve
known her so long. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to
her.”

Like having a broken heart
. Sophie
could easily imagine Eliza’s pain.

“But I don’t ever feel like I
need
to
kiss her.” He raised his head and looked at her, his tawny eyes
locking with her dark blue ones. “Sophie, I was desperate to kiss
you. And I want to do it again. And more.”

She swallowed. “I think this is called . . .
lust,” she told him, not denying that she wanted him, too.

He dropped his head back down and laughed,
but it wasn’t a joyful sound. Running his hand through his hair, he
asked her, “Have you ever been in love?”

She hesitated, pouring the water into the tea
pot. She thought of Philip and how many tears she’d cried. She
would have married him if he’d proposed to her. She had let Philip
kiss her many times and they’d touched each other in ways that
probably should have waited until after their wedding vows.

But Riley’s kiss—that was something else
altogether. It was overwhelming in its intensity, and she had to
curl her fingers into her palms to finally speak without trembling.
Had she ever been in love?

“Yes.”

Riley lifted his head off his hands again,
looking directly at her. “So where is he?”

“Perhaps he felt about me the way you say you
feel about Eliza.” It hurt her to think that Philip could dismiss
his feelings for her as easily as Riley had for Eliza. “Unlike you,
though, Philip didn’t seem to mind how he hurt me.” That made her
want to have another good cry. She ought to be alone. “I think you
better leave.”

“You just made me a cup of tea,” he reminded
her.

“Yes, yes I did.” She was dazed, shocked even
by the fierceness of the desire she had felt—still felt—for this
man, as soon as he’d touched her.

“All right, you can stay for tea.” She sat
down with offerings of milk and sugar for the tea and they both
slowly stirred the steaming, milky liquid. Now that her heart had
stopped pounding, Sophie decided she was glad he wasn’t going to
jump up and ride away too quickly.

“Why did you come here?” she asked him.

He pulled a piece of paper out of his back
pocket. “You have a telegram.”

He handed it to her. It was folded in three
but not sealed.
There was no privacy in this town
. She
wondered if Riley had read it. She set it down. It had to be from
Charlotte and might mention San Francisco.
What if he thought
she was following him?

“Aren’t you going to read it?”

“Later.”

He shrugged. “I don’t read upside down very
well.”

She rolled her eyes and opened it, holding
the paper closely.

Dearest Sophie,

Too much info about San Francisco to put in
this telegram. Yes, music. Loads of it. You would love it. Reed is
furious and thinks I’m pushing you farther west. Sending you long
letter today. Love, Charlotte.

She folded it again and laid it carefully
beside her tea cup.

“Is it from this Philip character?”

“No.”
Why would he think such a
thing?

“He’s an idiot, then. He ought to be begging
your forgiveness.” He stood up. “I have to go. I promised Doc I’d
pick up some supplies in Denver.”

They were at the front door before he spoke
again. “I’ll do some thinking while I’m riding. I have to figure
out what to tell Eliza.”

What to—

She put her hand to her mouth. Was he going
to rip the girl’s heart out as Philip had done? Because of her?
“Riley, what do you mean?”

He looked down at her and she saw his jaw
clench. Very slowly, he reached out and curled his hand around the
back of her neck. Mesmerized by his gaze, Sophie didn’t flinch as
he held her steady, then drew her in. She held her breath as Riley
lowered his head, but this time, his kiss was feather light. Even
so, she was unable, or unwilling, to pull away until he released
her. She drew in a long, ragged breath.

At last he answered her question. “I don’t
know, but I can’t imagine going through the rest of my life without
that
.”

And he was gone.

Without that
, he’d said. She sank down
onto the piano bench. Without that feeling, be it desire or
passion—whatever it was that he was missing with Eliza Prentice. He
hadn’t said “without you,” Sophie noticed, but that would have been
unthinkable. They’d only known each other a week. Despite the short
time, though, it was quite obvious that she’d awakened something in
him that Eliza didn’t fulfill.

Plainly, he wanted her. To be honest with
herself, Sophie wanted him, too. But she squared her shoulders. She
would tell him no if he tried to kiss her again.

*****

Riley pushed out of Sophie Malloy’s house and
vaulted onto his horse in one angry bound. Damn him for a fool! Why
had he even ventured over there, knowing the temptation, knowing
how irrationally he was behaving in her presence? And now he’d gone
and kissed her!