Welcome to Temptation (12 page)

I am a civilized man, he told himself as he followed her out the door.
I am not going to touch that
inebriated woman.

At least, not tonight.

*

The rum had made Sophie's knees loose, and as she sat in the dark in Phin's car – he had a Volvo, of course, tastefully expensive and understated – she was terrified the problem might spread to her lips and she'd say something stupid. Like,
Take me.

She stole a glance at him as he drove down the main road in the dark, his hand draped over the wheel, oblivious to her there beside him, and she felt a little shiver at how dark it was and how close he was and how damn sexy he was.

That was not a good thought so she tried to squelch it, but the fact was that she was in the dark with a powerful man, a
town boy
, and he was gorgeous and Not Her Kind and it was a real turn-on. She squirmed a little with guilt and pleasure, and Phin said, "You okay?"

"Sure," she said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"All that rum and Coke," he said. "If you're going to throw up, let me know and I'll pull over. I just had the upholstery cleaned."

"Oh, that's romantic," she said, and he shot her a startled glance. Right. They weren't supposed to be romantic. See?

This was what loose lips did for you. "That's not what I meant. I meant that wasn't polite or something. What's the word I'm looking for?"

"I have no idea," Phin said, as he slowed to turn into the farm lane. "Your thought processes elude me."

"Oh, really?" Sophie knew that was lame, but she'd left her verbal skills in the last rum and Coke. "I fail to see why my thought processes are of any interest to you at all." There. That was pretty good.

"They're not until they interfere with my town," Phin said as the Volvo bumped down the short lane.

"This movie of yours is disrupting things."

"Hey, not
our
idea," Sophie said. "
We
did not ask for volunteers from the populace. They just" – she waved her hands, almost smacking Phin in the eye – "showed up on their own." Phin had ducked to avoid her hand. "Right." He pulled the car up in front of the porch and cut the
Page 57

ignition, and Sophie could hear the crickets creaking in the darkness. Lovely.

"You okay?" Phin said, interrupting the crickets.

"Will you quit saying that? I'm not drunk." Sophie swung open the door and almost fell out. "I'm just not used to alcohol. It'll evaporate off in a minute."

"No, it won't." Phin got out and came around to her door while she was trying to get her beatings. "Give me your hand."

"Why?" Sophie said belligerently.

"So you don't fall on your ass," Phin said.

"Nice way for a mayor to talk." Sophie took his hand. It was warm and firm and strong – he almost lifted her out of the car with that one hand alone – and when she was standing, she found herself inches from a broad chest that blocked out the moonlight. "You're like a total eclipse," she said, and tried to detour around him.

"Yeah, I get that all the time." He let go, and she began to walk toward the house, escaping before she did something really stupid.

"Thank you for the ride, Phineas," she called back over her shoulder. "You may go now." The wind rustled through the trees and made her shiver because it was so warm and alive on her skin. When she stopped to feel the breeze, she heard the wash of the river and thought how good it would be to cool off listening to the river in the wind in the moonlight. She turned and headed for the path at the side of the house.

"A little higher and to the left," Phin called after her. "You're missing the porch."

"All part of my plan," she called back. "Good night."

"Oh, great." She heard the car door slam behind her. "Where are you going?"

"Not your concern," she said. "I'm not disrupting anybody. You can go home now." She rounded the corner of the house and it was dark, the trees blotting out the moonlight as effectively as Phin had, and she shivered because she was alone in the gloom.

"What are you doing?" Phin said from behind her. She started and tripped over a tree root, and he caught her arm before she could fall.

"I've told you a million times, stop sneaking up on me like that. I'm going to see the river in the moonlight." She pulled free and headed for the path again.

"Oh, good. The river. Excellent place for a woman who can't walk without falling over." Sophie came out behind the house into a silvery blue landscape that fell away to the water like a movie set. "Oh," she said and stopped so that Phin bumped into her from behind. She spread her hands apart to frame the scene, flexing her fingers so that her rings glinted in the moonlight. "This is beautiful."
Page 58

"Yeah," Phin said. "It is." For once he didn't sound exasperated or bored, and she looked over her shoulder to find him watching her.

"You get this all the time," she said. "You live in this movie set of a town, and you belong absolutely and everybody loves you and I bet you don't even appreciate it because you're too busy being cool and powerful."

"Do you have
any
idea of what you're talking about?" Phin said.

"Yes." Sophie started down the slope to the river. "I'm talking about what you have and what I don't. All you see is politics and problems. I bet right now you're thinking about how liable you'd be if I drowned."

"Well, I wasn't until you mentioned it," Phin said. "Try not to fall in."

"Maybe I will." Sophie turned around and walked backward so she could face him while she argued.

"Maybe I'll just walk right in to see what it feels like."

"It feels cold and wet," Phin said. "Much like your bathtub, only with fish stink." He reached out and grabbed her dress at her stomach.

"Hey!" she said, but he had her stopped in her tracks.

"Two more steps and you'll be wearing the fish stink," Phin told her. "We haven't had rain for a while and the river's low. It gets muddy here." He tugged her closer to him but took a step back at the same time, a semi-gentleman. "Stay on the grass."

"You're no romantic," Sophie said, as she pulled his fingers off her dress.

"I certainly am," Phin said. "When the occasion calls for it. This occasion calls for the rescue squad."

"Prove it." Sophie looked around for a dry place to sit and headed for the dock. No mud there.

"Fall in the river," Phin said from behind her. "I'll pull you out."

"No, prove the romantic part. Tell me one thought you've had out here that didn't have to do with lawsuits or fish stink or river hazards." Sophie stepped up on the dock, kicked her shoes off, and went to sit on the edge.

"Julie Ann," Phin said."And I was kidding. Do not fall in." Sophie eased her feet into the cool, cool water and sighed before turning her attention back to Phin.

"Julie Ann is somebody you had sex with here, I gather. That doesn't count. Romantic is not sweaty." Phin sat down on the dock behind her. "It is if you do it right. Julie Ann's from a song. My grandma used to sing me to sleep with it."

"My mom used to sing us to sleep with 'I Only Want to Be with You.' It's pretty when you sing it slow." Sophie leaned back on her hands and looked up at the stars. "Was 'Julie Ann' a pretty song?"

"Yes," Phin said from behind her. "One line was about Julie Ann in the moonlight, with her silver rings on
Page 59

her hands. When you held your hands up, your rings picked up the moonlight."

"That is romantic," Sophie said. "I concede. Sing the song."

"No," Phin said.

"So much for romance." The sky overhead was dark as velvet, and the moonlight was luminous blue.

"Why was she out in the moonlight?"

"Her lover betrayed her and she wandered off into the mountains." That sounded lovely, wandering off into the dark, looking for a dangerous, hot lover to replace the old, boring one. "Did she find someone in the mountains?" She leaned back farther just to feel her body stretch.

"A bear."

Sophie jerked her head around to look at him. He had stretched out on the dock with his hands behind his head, and he was looking at the stars, too, pretty much ignoring her.

"She fell in love with a bear?"

"No, a bear ate her." Phin rolled his head to look at her. "Appalachiais not big on silly love songs."

"A bear ate her." Sophie shook her head. "Leave it to you to think that's romantic."

"The song's beautiful." Phin looked back at the stars. "It ends with her ghost wearing a crown of sorrow. Very romantic."

"Dead women are not romantic," Sophie said flatly.

"Okay, she's not dead," Phin said. "The bear ate her, and she came her brains out." Sophie felt her laugh spurt before she could stop herself. "Oh, very nice. That's not romantic, either."

"It is if you do it right."

Sophie thought about it. "I must not be doing it right."

"It wouldn't be you that isn't doing it right," Phin said. "It'd be the bear."

"No picking on the bear," she said. "Liberated women take care of themselves. 'I've read
The Second
Sex
. I've read
The Cinderella Complex
. I'm responsible for my own orgasm.'"

"Why?"

"What do you mean, 'Why?' That's a line from a movie.
Tootsie
. It's a famous line. I can't believe you didn't recognize it."

"I don't watch movies," Phin said. "I read. And I repeat, why would your orgasm be your responsibility during oral sex?"

Page 60

Sophie sat up a little. His tone was matter-of-fact, but his subject matter wasn't. "I don't think I want to talk about this."

"Okay," Phin said.

Sophie splashed her feet in the river and tried to think of something else. Talking about oral sex with Phineas T. Tucker was not something a smart woman would do. If you talked about sex with men, they often took it as a sign you wanted to have some. And then where would she be? She let her mind slide off that one fast, and it ended up back on his question.

Of course she wanted to be responsible for her own orgasm. She was an independent woman in control of her own life. She wasn't about to throw herself at some man and selfishly demand that he satisfy her while she just lay back and
enjoyed
herself—

No, that wasn't right, either.

"It's because I'd have to depend on somebody else to give me what I want," she said, and Phin rolled his head to look at her. "I'd be one of those clingy women like Virginia Garvey or Georgia Lutz who just wait for men to take care of them and then are disappointed when they don't. If I take responsibility, then I can't be disappointed with anybody but me. I have control."

"And you see that as an improvement."

"It's empowering," Sophie said uncertainly. The rum and Coke were wearing off and so was the river. It still sounded and felt wonderful, but the fish stink was there, too. Reality, making its usual appearance just when she was getting somewhere.

"Empowering." Phin didn't sound impressed.

"Well, it's better than just lying back and hoping for the best." Sophie kicked the water.

"Ever tried that?" Phin said.

Sophie kicked the water again. "I don't want to talk about this."

"Okay," Phin said, and went back to watching the stars.

The amount of water she was splashing was ruining the peaceful effect of the river so she stopped and let it flow past her ankles. The silence stretched out until all she could think of was Phin lying behind her. He wasn't that attractive. He was a pain in the butt. He probably thought she was uptight just because she was independent. He didn't even know what he was talking about. Her heart pounded harder the more she thought about him.

"Sex isn't what's important anyway," she said loftily. "It's the relationship that matters, and relationships take work." He didn't say anything, so she went on to fill the silence. "I mean, sure, it sounds good to just hand everything over to somebody else, but that's not how it works in real life." She felt angry about that, which was totally inappropriate, and she was pretty sure it was the rum and Coke betraying her, but it might have been her life.

"Depends on the version of real life you're using," Phin said.

Page 61

"Well, in my version, you have to be careful all the time and you get nothing for free," Sophie said waspishly. "Especially orgasms."

"Then you need another version."

Sophie lost her breath as the silence stretched out again. Well, if he made a pass, she'd say no. She'd just turn around and look at that great face and better body, and say no. Who did he think he was, anyway? She certainly knew who she was, and she wasn't the kind of woman who—

"Come here," Phin said, and Sophie felt his voice in the pit of her stomach. She shook her head.

"You've got nothing to lose," he told her. "Day after tomorrow you're gone, and we'll never see each other again. This is your one shot at being selfish. Let somebody take care of you for a change." She swallowed as she tried to get her breath, and he said, "Come here and let me give you an orgasm you don't have to work for."

The heat spread fast and low in her, and Sophie bit her lip and tried not to feel anything. Don't be dumb, she told herself.
You are not this kind of woman, this is not what you want
, but her breath came faster and it was what she wanted, he was what she wanted. She opened her mouth to say no, but what came out was, "Why would you want to do that?"

"So I can touch you," he said. "I've wanted to since the first time I saw you on the porch." There definitely wasn't enough air by the river. The heat was driving it away. If she turned around and looked at him, she'd probably asphyxiate. "You didn't even know me on the porch. You don't know me now."

"That's the beauty of it," Phin said. "No guilt. No responsibility. Just pleasure." She did turn to look at him then, and he met her eyes coolly. He had propped himself up on one elbow, but there was no tension anywhere in his body – she closed her eyes because he had such a beautiful body – no pressure there on her at all. He could have been offering her dinner and his voice would have sounded the same.