A Taste of Paradise

by Connie Mason

  “Your brother was here. He accused me of failing to protect you. For once he was right. I shouldn’t have taken a wife while I have no time to devote to one.”

  “Since when have you listened to anything Rayford has to say?”

  “Since I’ve had a chance to think.”

  “What exactly are you saying?”

  He stood and walked to the window. “I don’t really know.”

  Sophia eased out of bed and joined Chris at the window, surprised to find she wasn’t the least bit dizzy. “It’s a beautiful day outside.”

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  “Why not? I feel fine.” She searched Chris’s face, reading nothing but concern in his expression. How could she have been so stupid as to think he could love her?

  “Hold me, Chris.”

  “Sophia—”

  “Please, I’ve been so lonely. I know you don’t have time for me, but I miss being close to you.”

  Chris stepped behind her and wound his arms around her. “Is that better?”

  Her head fell back against his chest. “Hmmm, much better. When I was caught in the hurricane, I feared I’d never see you again.”

  He turned her in his arms and stared into her eyes. “Would that bother you?”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, Chris, but my feelings haven’t changed. No matter how you feel about me, I still lo—”

  He stopped her words with a kiss, as if he didn’t want to hear her declaration of love. Nevertheless, Sophia tasted love in his kiss, sensed his desperate attempt to deny his own feelings. How long did he intend to resent her and blame himself for Desmond’s death? How long would he deny what was in his heart?

  “Damnation,” he growled as he broke off the kiss and tried to pull away. Sophia’s hold on him tightened.

  “You’re not well enough for this.”

  “I assure you I am fine. Make love to me, Chris. I need to feel alive again.”

  She could tell by the look in Chris’s eyes that he was fighting a battle within himself. But in the end it was no battle at all. He was as hungry for her as she was for him. Her nightgown fell away as if by magic. She stood before him naked and unashamed as she reached for the buttons on his shirt and frantically worked them free.

  Chris tore off his shirt and carried her the short distance to the bed. She slid down his body until her feet hit the floor. Chris dropped to his knees before her, kissing a path between her breasts and down her stomach to the nest of curls protecting her womanhood.

  Sophia’s knees nearly buckled when he parted her with his thumbs and teased the hard little nubbin he found there with his tongue. Sophia clung to his shoulders for support as he inserted two fingers inside her and licked along the dewy folds of her cleft. She was only moments away from climax when Chris rose abruptly.

  “Nooo!” she wailed.

  He gently pushed her onto the bed. “Roll over on your stomach, love,” he urged hoarsely.

  Sophia stretched out on her stomach, watching as Chris locked the door and then pulled off his boots and trousers and tossed them aside. He was already hard, his engorged sex jutting upward from between his muscular legs. Sophia reached for him.

  “Not yet,” he said, deliberately avoiding her touch. “Lie still and let me love you.”

  Sophia felt him leaning over her, his body hot, his breath even hotter. She jerked in response when his lips touched her neck, kissing and nipping gently as his mouth slowly moved down her spine, pausing to lavish attention on her firm buttocks. Her patience at an end, Sophia wanted to scream for him to hurry.

  “Soon, love, soon.”

  She felt him shift behind her. Then he pushed her knees up and placed a pillow under her stomach. Open and vulnerable, Sophia waited for him to tell her what to do. She felt his mouth on her, felt his tongue enter her pulsating center. She squirmed and moaned, raising her bottom to give him better access.

  “Chris, please.” She wanted more than he was giving her.

  She was nearly mad with need when he finally thrust his sex inside her. She wiggled her bottom and pushed backward against him, begging without words.

  “I know,” Chris gasped. “I feel the same way.”

  Grasping her hips to hold her still, he shoved hard, withdrew and shoved again, this time to the hilt. Sophia cried out as he thrust and withdrew, setting a frantic pace, driving her higher and higher. Leaning over her, he pushed her hair out of the way and kissed her neck. Then he lifted her breasts in each hand and alternately pulled and massaged her nipples.

  Sophia felt as if her soul were leaving her body. The ache grew intense, stronger than she’d ever felt before. Her need was greater than reason, her pleasure soaring higher than mortal comprehension. Then she shattered.

  Moments later, Chris joined her. Sophia heard him cry out, felt his final thrust and then the warm gush of his seed as he exploded inside her. He collapsed against her, causing her to crumple beneath him. They lay still, panting, limbs entwined, his weight pressing her down into the mattress. Then he rolled away, staring at the ceiling. Sophia shifted around to lie on her back.

  “Are you all right?” Chris asked. “I didn’t mean to be so rough. I can’t seem to control myself when I’m with you.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  He turned his head and looked at her. “The worst. You make me forget my guilt, and I’m not ready yet to forgive myself.”

  “Or me,” Sophia ventured.

  “I . . . don’t know what I’m feeling right now; however, I can no longer find it in my heart to hold you responsible for Desmond’s death, if that’s any comfort to you.”

  Sophia considered his answer and decided she could live with it. She smiled and snuggled against him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Except for the colorful and still somewhat painful knot on her forehead, Sophia felt like her old self again. A week had passed since Chris had made love to her. They had made love twice that night, and Sophia couldn’t have been happier. The only thing she wasn’t at peace with right now was her uselessness. She was of no use to Chris except in bed. She wanted to be his helpmate, someone he could confide in, someone who could help ease the burden of running the plantation.

  Over dinner one night, Sophia voiced her misgivings about her place in Chris’s live. “I’m bored doing nothing all day,” she said as the last course was taken away. “I need something to fill the void. You are always so busy; there must be something I can do to help.”

  Chris considered her request and then shook his head. “I don’t know what that would be, Sophia. Isn’t taking care of the house enough for you?”

  “The house runs itself. There’s little for me to do except go over the menus with Chandra.”

  “You can’t work in the fields, I wouldn’t allow it. The same goes for the distillery. It’s hard, dirty work.”

  “What about the books? I am a quick learner.”

  “My financial records are kept up to date by my solicitor in Kingston. Mundo keeps a daily accounting, and I take the results to Mr. Fenton weekly.”

  Sophia’s shoulders slumped. There must be something she could do.

  “Why don’t you visit the Chesters? I’m sure Lady Agatha will tell you how she occupies her days.”

  “It’s not the same, Chris. Agatha has children to keep her busy.”

  Chris searched her face. “Do you want children, Sophia?”

  “It’s bound to happen.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Do you want my children?”

  “Do you want me to bear your children?” Sophia shot back.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it before, but as you say, it’s bound to happen.”

  He was evading the issue, Sophia knew. “Why are you being evasive?”

  “I didn’t think I was.”

  “I told you I lo—”

  “Be careful, Sophia.”

  Since Chris didn’t want to hear wo
rds of love, she began again. “I want children, Chris, your children. But until it happens, I need something to do.”

  “Most women would be happy to engage in ladylike pursuits such as embroidery, gardening, music and shopping.”

  “I’m not most women.”

  His blue eyes kindled. “I know.” He pushed his chair back and rose. “Shall we explore the difference in our bedroom?”

  She couldn’t resist that devilish smile of his, especially when it was directed at her. She placed her hand in his. “Very well, but this conversation isn’t over.”

  Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her up the stairs. He did indeed hear the last of the subject from Sophia that night, for he kept her mouth far too busy to talk.

  Lord and Lady Chester and their house guest arrived at Sunset Hill the following morning. They had come to inquire about Sophia’s health.

  “We didn’t come sooner because we didn’t want to interfere with your recuperation,” Agatha explained. “You’re looking marvelous, my dear, except for that ugly discoloration on your forehead, and I’m sure that will disappear in time.”

  “We’ve brought our niece,” Lord Chester said. “Sophia, I’d like you to meet Lady Amanda Dartmore. She was just recently widowed and has come to Jamaica to get over her loss. She arrived yesterday on the Lady Jane out of Liverpool.”

  “Welcome,” Sophia said. “I hope you enjoy your visit to Jamaica.”

  Sophia thought Lady Amanda very young to be a widow. She was petite and blond and round in all the places a woman should be round. The only unattractive thing about her was a certain hardness about the eyes. Her catlike gaze settled disconcertingly on Sophia as she offered a limp hand.

  “I’d like to speak with your husband,” Chester said. “Is he about?”

  “Please make yourself comfortable in the parlor while I send someone for him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. Will you stay for luncheon?”

  “We’d be delighted,” Agatha replied. “Wouldn’t we, Chester?”

  “I believe I can spare the time. Perhaps you can tell us about your ordeal, Sophia. I understand you were found unconscious by the Maroons.”

  “Later, dear; let dear Sophia send for the captain,” Agatha scolded.

  Sophia hurried from the room, uncomfortably aware that Lady Amanda had judged her and found her lacking. She wondered why. She sent a kitchen boy for Chris, ordered tea and returned to the parlor to await her husband.

  The conversation faltered after the weather was explored. Lady Amanda jumped into the void. “I’m dying to know what happened to you while you were with those horrible Maroons.” Her eyes gleamed. “Did they . . . did they harm you? I would kill myself if one of them touched me.”

  Sophia felt a slow building of anger. Lady Amanda knew nothing about the Maroons, yet assumed the worst. “They treated me very well. If not for them I would have died.”

  Amanda gave a delicate shudder. “I’m glad it was you and not me.”

  Fortunately, the tea tray arrived, allowing Sophia to drop the subject. Unfortunately, Amanda wasn’t about to let it drop. While Sophia poured, Amanda asked, “What did your husband think about your sojourn with the Maroons?”

  As Sophia struggled for an answer, Chris walked through the door.

  “I am grateful for their care of Sophia,” Chris said as he joined the small group. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Amanda.

  Glancing over at Chris, Sophia noted his stunned expression and wondered if he knew Amanda Dartmore.

  “Christian!” Amanda squealed. “How wonderful to see you again! I’ve missed you.”

  Chris seemed to pull himself together. “Lady Amanda, I’m speechless. You’re the last person I expected to see in Jamaica.”

  Agatha clapped her hands. “How wonderful! You already know one another.”

  Jealousy clawed deep into Sophia’s heart when Amanda rose to her toes and kissed Chris’s cheek. Was that a gleam of appreciation in his eyes? How well had he known Amanda? He certainly seemed to be devoting a great deal of attention to her.

  Amanda seemed overly flirtatious and friendly for a newly widowed woman. She eyed Chris hungrily, as if she wanted to pounce on him and devour him. As for Chris, he appeared suitably embarrassed.

  Finally he disengaged himself from Amanda. “Shall we retire to my study, Chester?”

  The moment the men left, Amanda said, “If my dear departed husband had been as attractive as Christian, I wouldn’t be so happy to be a widow.”

  Sophia was quick to notice how easily Amanda used Chris’s given name.

  “Amanda,” Agatha chided, “you’re embarrassing dear Sophia.”

  “Oh, pooh, Auntie, we both know I hated Dartmore; he was thirty years my senior. The marriage was arranged by my parents, I had no choice in the matter.”

  “I’m sorry your marriage was an unhappy one,” Sophia said. “Have you known Chris a long time?”

  Amanda’s eyes gleamed. “Long enough.”

  Flustered, Agatha shot Amanda a startled look and abruptly changed the subject. The three women exchanged small talk until the men returned to the parlor for lunch. Sophia excused herself to see to the preparations and order a table set up on the patio overlooking the garden. When she returned, she noted that Amanda had Chris cornered and was conversing earnestly with him. The Chesters were noticeably absent.

  “What happened to Lord and Lady Chester?” Sophia asked.

  “They were summoned home,” Chris said. “One of their children had sustained a minor injury, and Lady Agatha wished to return to Orchid Manor immediately.”

  “I preferred to remain and enjoy the company of people closer to my own age,” Amanda explained. “Christian generously placed his carriage at my disposal. I hope you don’t mind, Sophia. Chris and I have a great deal to discuss.”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” Sophia replied, resisting the urge to grit her teeth. They repaired to the patio. Sophia saw to the removal of two place settings and joined them at the table.

  “Weren’t you Sophia Carlisle before your marriage?” Amanda asked presently. She tapped her chin. “Now, why does the name sound familiar? Perhaps it will come to me.”

  “Drop it, Amanda,” Chris warned. “How long ago did Dartmore pass? Were you with him when it happened?”

  Amanda batted her eyes at him. Apparently, Chris and Amanda had been intimate friends at one time, Sophia deduced, and jealousy reared its ugly head.

  Amanda sent Chris a beguiling smile. “You know perfectly well Dartmore and I weren’t close. I was in Town and he was in the country when he passed four months ago. Like most married couples, we found it expedient to live separate lives. That’s the best plan, don’t you agree, Chris?”

  Sophia waited for Chris’s answer. Would he prefer to live apart from her like Amanda and her husband?

  “If that arrangement worked for you, then I’m pleased you and your husband found a measure of happiness in your marriage.”

  His noncommittal answer pleased Sophia.

  Amanda batted him playfully. “I commend you on your diplomacy, Chris, but I found no happiness whatsoever in my marriage.” She stared pointedly at him. “There were some advantages in being married to an older man, however, as I’m sure you’re aware. Was yours an arranged marriage? You never mentioned you were getting married when you visited me in London before you sailed off to Jamaica.”

  Chris could almost taste the hostility between Amanda and Sophia and wondered if his wife suspected that he and Amanda had been lovers. He had to warn Amanda to keep their past to herself.

  “One might call our marriage arranged, but not in the way you probably think,” Chris said truthfully. “I chose to wed Sophia, but neither of us expected to end up married to each other. It’s complicated.”

  Amanda looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Perhaps Chris can explain,” Sophia said, rising abruptly. “Please excuse me, there’s something in the kitchen I must attend
to. I’m sure my husband will entertain you in my absence.”

  Chris stared after Sophia, aware of her displeasure. What had she expected him to say? Did she want him to declare his undying love? Avow that theirs was a love match?

  Amanda grasped his arm. “I would enjoy a stroll through your garden, Christian. It’s lovely. I’ve never seen such an array of flowers. The colors are magnificent.”

  “It’s grown rather wild, but Sophia and I like the untamed look.”

  Amanda licked her lips, rose on her toes and kissed him on the mouth. “Untamed, yes; you always were one to enjoy the taming of wild things. We were good together, weren’t we, Chris?”

  “That was a long time ago, Amanda.”

  He guided her along the winding garden path, only half listening while she chatted about anything that popped into her head. When they reached the place where the jungle encroached upon the garden, she stopped and pushed her breasts suggestively against his arm.

  “I might be convinced to remain in Jamaica,” she purred, “if you gave me a tiny bit of encouragement.”

  Chris pushed her away. “I’m married, Amanda. Why did you come to Jamaica?”

  “I came for you, obviously. I had no idea you were married.” She glared up at him. “You don’t love your wife; you as much as admitted it. Besides, if I remember correctly, there is a scandal associated with her name.”

  Chris scowled. “Shall we change the subject?”

  She moved closer to Chris, until he could smell the musky scent of her lust. He felt as if he were being stalked by a predator. Not only was Amanda a beauty, but she was an enthusiastic lover. Some things a man never forgets. His cock gave an involuntary jerk, and he cursed his body’s involuntary response to her sexual overtures. It wasn’t as if he wanted Amanda; he just couldn’t stop his spontaneous reaction.

  “You’ve always known how I feel about you, Chris. Just say the word and we can be lovers again.”

  “Amanda, you are an alluring woman, but I think you should set your sights elsewhere. I don’t need a lover, I have a wife.”

  She laughed. The grating sound set Chris’s nerves on edge. “I’ve already set my sights on someone, do you have any objections?”