Reprieve (Love's Second Chance Book 1)

by Scott,Scarlett

  “I should go back to the living room while I still can.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, belying his words.

  She traced his lower lip with the tip of her finger, her concentration solely focused on his beautiful mouth. “Do you really think either one of us will be able to sleep if you go back to the living room?”

  He leaned his forehead against hers and groaned. “Are you trying to torture me? I’m attempting to do the honorable thing here.”

  To hell with honorable, Sophie thought irritably, even though she knew he was right. It was just that there was something magical about the island. She felt totally free here, like a different person. Her demons had been left behind in Pennsylvania. Here, she could be with Trevor completely, without holding any part of herself back from him. Here, there were no memories to come between them. She could give herself to him in the truest sense.

  “What if I told you I didn’t want you to be honorable?” She was fully aware of the implications of her question but was beyond the point of caring.

  His hands cupped her face and then he was kissing her soundly, stealing away anything else she may have said. Stealing away her breath, her good sense, and everything but him. He sipped at her lips as though she was the sweetest of drinks, something rare and exotic, worth savoring. His tongue teased hers leisurely, eloquently, inciting her to madness.

  A moan formed deep within her throat and she released it, unable to hold it at bay. Trevor caught it with his mouth, muffling the sound.

  “Sophie,” he whispered.

  His lips angled over hers, taking the kiss deeper, to new sensual heights. Her blood heated and thickened in her veins, oozing throughout her like warm honey. Her entire body thrummed with sensation. She wanted more.

  As one, she and Trevor moved closer to the bed, Sophie backing up and Trevor pressing forward. Their mouths never parted. It was inexplicable, indefinable.

  Abruptly, the backs of her knees met with the mattress and she tumbled into the center of the bed. Trevor landed atop her, bracing his arms on her either side to absorb most of the impact. She let out a helpless giggle at their lack of grace.

  “So I finally uncover the way to get you into bed,” he teased.

  “By tackling me?” She felt so wonderful lying here with him. Well, beneath him, actually. It was so good to be able to laugh with him, to hold him in her arms. It felt so right.

  He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then traced her cheek with a finger. “Did you know that when you laugh,” he said intently, “you get a sweet little dimple right here?” He lightly pressed her dimple with his finger. “And your lower lip quivers just the slightest bit.” He kissed her lip in demonstration. “It makes me want to kiss you.” He laid hot, delicious little kisses on the tip of her chin, her jaw line then lower, down the expanse of her neck, settling in the hollow where her pulse beat a frantic tattoo against her skin. His tongue flicked out to taste her, delicately tracing the line of her collarbone.

  “Oh, Trevor,” she moaned, hopelessly entangled in the passion of the moment. Her fingers sank into his thick, dark hair.

  He halted briefly in his sensual assault to look up at her through eyes made stormy by desire. “I need to see you, all of you. I want you naked.”

  A thrill raced through her. She helped him to peel her nightgown over her head, her vision engulfed completely in white for a moment before Trevor flung it to the floor.

  Trevor’s eyes could only be described as hungry as they traveled over her body, now clad only in a lacy scrap of panties. “Beautiful,” he murmured, as though he was under some spell. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

  His reverence, the look in his eyes, the raw hunger in his voice, certainly made her feel beautiful. No one, not even Peter, had ever made her feel that way.

  Trevor lowered his head and pressed his lips to the hardened tips of each of her breasts.

  “Beautiful,” he said against her skin, pressing his lips in a fiery trail down the smooth span of her stomach. His tongue delved into the hollow of her bellybutton.

  Sophie tried to haul him up to her for another kiss, but he resisted.

  “I’ve been waiting for so long.”

  He pressed another kiss to the gently rounded curve of her stomach, then slid his hands down her sides, resting them on the elastic strings that held her underwear in place.

  “Trevor.” She stiffened, suddenly not sure she was ready.

  He leaned up over her body to claim her mouth once more. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll go as slowly as you need.”

  She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him fiercely. No words could be forced over her tongue at this point, but she could convey to him what she was feeling with her actions. She was on fire for him, desperate to have him inside her and she wanted him to know it.

  He tugged at her panties again. This time, she could offer no resistance, merely reached down to help him remove them. With a bit of twisting and maneuvering, she lay completely naked before him.

  He ended the kiss and gazed down at her, his expression captivated. “What did I tell you? Absolutely beautiful.”

  He bent his head and kissed her belly once more, then moved lower.

  Oh dear God.

  She was equal parts embarrassed and enthralled, but her inner prude felt compelled to offer up some sort of protest. “Wait.”

  Trevor looked up at her, flashing a beautiful smile of reassurance. “Relax, sweetheart. Just relax.”

  She nodded against the pillow, helpless to deny him anything. Seconds later, she wouldn’t have been able to stop him had she wanted to. He pumped her clit with his tongue, working the sensitive nub. When he sucked it into his mouth, she was caught in the grip of a desire so potent she lost the ability to think, to speak, to do anything but lie there and feel.

  She clutched the sheets as pleasure shot through her entire body. His tongue sank inside her. Powerless to squelch the moan rising in her throat, she turned her face into the pillow, muffling the sound. Trevor rose over her and gathered her in his arms, pressing fervent kisses to the side of her face.

  She turned, her lips meeting his with instinctive accuracy. Their kiss was deep and consuming, burning with all the emotions that had gone unspoken between them. Her hands traveled over the smooth planes of his back, stopping when she reached the waistband of his underwear. Without a moment’s hesitation, she tugged them down over his narrow hips.

  Trevor tore his lips from hers, looking down at her with an inscrutable expression. “Are you sure, Sophie?”

  “Make love to me,” she whispered, capturing his face in her hands. “Please.”

  In answer, he crushed her mouth with a possessive kiss. She gloried in it, in the knowledge she was his and he was hers, even if only for this one magical moment in time.

  He reached down and whipped off his boxer briefs, sending them the way of her nightgown and panties. Sophie’s eyes hungrily devoured his naked form, taking in every plane, every curve, every shadow and ridge. Masculine perfection.

  He cupped her breasts, teasing the nipples with skilled fingers until she moaned once more. Then his hot, wet mouth replaced his fingers and she thought she’d die from the pleasure of it.

  “Trevor,” she objected breathlessly, “if you don’t stop this torture, I’m going to wake up the entire house.”

  He smiled against the curve of her breast. “Patience, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting forever for this.”

  So have I, she thought dazedly, I just didn’t know it. When she was about to protest again that she could stand no more of his teasing, Trevor shifted his position and slipped on a condom, poised to enter her. He reached up and laced his fingers through hers.

  “Are you positive, sweetheart?” he demanded hoarsely.

  In answer, she lifted her hips, taking his hardness inside her body. He managed a low groan that sounded more like a growl than anything else. His rhythm was designed to drive them both absolu
tely mad with desire. Fingers entwined, mouths clinging, they made love as though they would never get the chance to again.

  Sophie climaxed suddenly, crying out into Trevor’s mouth. Seconds later, he followed suit, his release every bit as powerful as hers. When it was over, he collapsed against her, his heart beating frantically against her chest.

  Sophie was drifting on a plane of ethereal white clouds, gilded light shimmering down on her from some indefinable source. Laughter tinkled in her ear, happy laughter. Elizabeth’s laughter, she realized, that giggle she’d thought she’d never hear again. Matching happiness welled up inside her until she could no longer contain it. She felt light, airy, trouble free.

  Laughter bubbled up inside and she let it go, her laughs mingling with Elizabeth’s in a delightful echo. Suddenly, inexplicably, Elizabeth’s sweet face rose before her, smiling and radiating such warm tenderness and love that Sophie’s heart filled with it. She reached out to her daughter, but her hands sank into empty air.

  She awoke with a start.

  It had only been a dream. Her hands were clutching the pillow where Trevor’s head should have been.

  A cursory inventory of the room proved he was gone, leaving her alone to face the harsh light of day. Consequences. Oh God, what had she done? The condom had broken last night, and they’d only discovered it in the aftermath of their passion. Now a flood of worry hit her. How could she have been so reckless? Worse, how could she have been so selfish to forget her daughter for a whole day?

  Reality hit her like a freight train.

  It was Monday morning. For the past two years, Sophie had never missed her Sunday ritual of taking fresh flowers to Peter and Elizabeth’s graves. Except for yesterday. She had never, ever felt lower in her life.

  What could she do?

  She would have to face Trevor and his sister’s family at some point, she reasoned. May as well make it sooner rather than later. Even so, Danielle was an intelligent woman. She’d take one look at Sophie and instantly know what had happened. If the noise from last night hadn’t already alerted her to it, of course.

  Sophie steeled herself and dressed before pulling open the bedroom door to reveal an empty house. Not a single person in sight. Feeling uncertain, Sophie hesitantly padded to the kitchen, where she found a warm pot of coffee and a note.

  “Danielle and company at beach,” she read aloud. “Be back soon, Trevor.”

  Sophie wasn’t sure if she should be relieved to find herself the recipient of some additional time to kill or if she should be worried.

  “Good morning, Sophie.”

  Trevor’s voice startled her. Carefully, she turned to face him and when she did, she wished she hadn’t. He was leaning indolently in the doorway, his long legs encased in khakis, his white shirt set off to perfection by his bronzed skin. His hair was damp and wavy from the sea air. The look in his eyes coupled with the warm, intimate smile on his lips struck a fire low in her belly.

  It hit her.

  If she spent one more day with him here, like this, she would be hopelessly in his thrall. One look at him and she forgot why she was so angry with herself. It was a mistake she couldn’t afford to make. Sophie had one choice.

  “Can you take me home?” she asked him.

  His expression became guarded. A few long strides carried him to her. “Why?”

  All her courage deserted her in one great wave. “I think last night was a mistake.”

  “Soph.” His gaze penetrated hers, searching, probing for answers. “Don’t do this.”

  Suddenly, she very desperately wanted to call her words back. But it was too late now. She could only plunge ahead.

  “I’m not ready for this, Trevor,” she said weakly. “It’s too much, too soon. It feels like I’m betraying them.”

  Trevor didn’t bother to ask Sophie who she felt like she was betraying. He didn’t need to. It was written all over her beautiful face, the guilt, the grief. He suddenly was violently jealous of Peter Olsen.

  He smiled tightly. “You must have loved him very much.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who did you make love to last night, Sophie?” he demanded, sick to think she might have been pretending. “Was it me or was it him?”

  Her vibrant eyes clouded with confusion. “What do you mean?”

  He jammed a hand into his hair. Last night had meant so much to him. Trevor had thought he had finally made it over the walls of defense she had built around herself. It infuriated him to realize he’d been deceiving himself, probably had been all along. No one could reach a woman hopelessly in love with her dead husband.

  “Were you pretending I was him?”

  She looked exquisite yet stricken. She didn’t have to answer him. It was right there on her face. Something constricted within his chest and the breath left his lungs. It was like she had dealt him a physical blow.

  “Pack your things,” he said coldly. “I’d hate to keep you here a moment longer when you could be at the cemetery, pining away.”

  Trevor’s words were cruel and he knew it, but he gleaned no satisfaction from the look on Sophie’s face before she spun on her heel and fled to the guest bedroom. As he watched her walk away, he could only wonder why he’d been so damn stupid as to give his heart away to a woman who no longer had one to offer in return.

  The car ride home from Maryland was punctuated by an uneasy, icy silence. As they crossed the Pennsylvania border, Trevor turned to her.

  “Did you have another nightmare last night, Sophie?” he asked.

  She frowned, confused by his question. There had been the dream of Elizabeth, but it hadn’t exactly been a nightmare. “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is that last night you were practically begging for my touch.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Christ, Sophie, a man can’t compete with a ghost.”

  “I never meant for there to be a competition,” she said.

  “What did you mean?”

  “I don’t know.” She hated herself all over again.

  She would not admit it now, but there had been no thoughts of Peter when she was in Trevor’s arms last night. In fact, when she was with Trevor, there was hardly any room for either ghosts or painful memories. There was only him and the way he made her feel. Which was exactly why she could no longer spend time with him.

  He remained silent as the scenery stretched endlessly by them. As they approached her street, he spoke again.

  “From now on, any business you do with the Gallery will be conducted through my partner, Marcus. I think it would be best for both of us if we stop seeing each other. You can only drive down a dead-end road so many times without realizing it doesn’t go anywhere.”

  Sophie swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

  Trevor pulled into her driveway and braked with more force than necessary. He stared straight ahead, refusing to look at her.

  “Not as sorry as I am.” His tone was harsh.

  She impulsively reached out to him, placing a hand on his arm. He flinched away from her.

  “Trevor,” she began.

  “Don’t,” he cut in. “Get out of the car, Sophie.”

  “But—”

  “Get out of the car,” he ordered. “Before I say something we’ll both regret.”

  Left with no choice, she took up her bag and got out. She had barely closed the car door when he was backing out of the drive, eager, it seemed, to be out of her life forever.

  The past three months had been pretty damn miserable for Trevor. His only escape had been burying himself in long nights at work. When he was alone, his thoughts turned inevitably to Sophie.

  His mind was perpetually sifting through thoughts of her, replaying that powerful night followed by the unbearably painful morning. The morning Trevor had been at last forced to face the ugly truth. As crazy as it seemed, he had fallen in love with Sophie.

  But she was still in love with the memory of her husband.

  Trevor couldn’t blame her, not for a
millisecond. Hell, he admired her for being so loyal and devoted. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t jealous. He strode to the window and looked down on the street below, the yellow taxis and cars zigzagging in and out of traffic blurring before his eyes. Why couldn’t he forget about her? Why did every part of her, from her strikingly beautiful face to her sweet scent, have to haunt him so mercilessly?

  The real trouble was, he just didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care that he hadn’t returned any of Danielle’s calls in over two months. Didn’t care if he alienated Marcus to the point of no return. Nothing mattered because the one thing that suddenly mattered the most would be forever out of his reach.

  He’d never really given any thought to marriage and children. Before Sophie, settling down had held little appeal. But she had been different, sweeping into his life like a tornado and carting away all of his preconceived notions about life and love. She had been everything he had been looking for all along without even knowing it. Something in her had called to him in a way as old as time and he had given in to it without putting up much of a struggle. Fool that he was.

  “Trevor.” Genevieve’s voice over the intercom interrupted his grim ruminations. “There’s a package down here for you.”

  Grumbling, Trevor went to his desk and punched the intercom button. “I’m busy, Genevieve.”

  “It’s been here at the front desk for two days,” she reminded him in tart tones. “How busy can you be?”

  He cursed beneath his breath. Of course the stubborn woman wouldn’t think to bring the damn package up herself. He really had to talk to Marcus about firing her. Making a mental note of it, he punched the button again.

  “Fine,” he said curtly. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  Still cursing to himself, he stormed from his office and made his way down to Genevieve’s desk. When she caught sight of him, she flashed him an expectant smile in spite of the fact that he probably looked as miserable as he felt. She wore a hideously bright pink shirt coupled by black pants with matching pink pinstripes.