An Irresistible Temptation

by Sydney Jane Baily

  As she lay on the bed, she imagined Riley leaning over her, slanting his lips across hers, teasing her mouth open, biting her lower lip with a sensual nibble. Just thinking of him and her womanly core was prickling with anticipation. He would lay his weight on her and his tongue would move into her mouth and touch hers. And she would long for more.

  She wanted to lift her own skirts and touch herself to ease the feeling of desire. She wanted to run to Riley and say to hell with his promise to Eliza, she would let him take her, even if it was only for a night, even if he could never be hers.

  She hummed, thinking over what she’d eaten that day, in accordance with the current ideas that certain foods, such as pork, eggs, salt-meat, candy, pies and cakes, pepper, pickles and condiments—damnation, just about anything really!—could cause her to feel this fervent desire for release. Balderdash! She simply wanted Riley, though she supposed that she ought to want the calmer affection she felt for Philip.

  But she wanted Riley. She lifted her skirts.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When she awoke the next morning, she forgot for an instant that Philip was in San Francisco, a block away at The Palace. Then she remembered his kiss. Could she love someone and experience only that tepid feeling in his embrace? She thought of what she’d done after and stretched languorously. Damn Riley for tempting her with his perfect kisses!

  She did not want to go to Williamstown or to Amherst as Philip’s wife. But she could almost see herself living back in Boston or in Cambridge while Philip attended Harvard. She would, perhaps, teach at the Conservatory and her life would be settled. She yawned widely.

  Oh dear! She could see it but she wasn’t sure she liked it. Still, she remembered how warm and full her heart had once been at the notion of being Mrs. Philip Wainright. She could feel that way again, couldn’t she?

  Startled by the knock at her door, Sophie knew a moment later that it was Carling. Carling! Her first date with Egbert! She jumped out of bed and grabbed her wrap and threw open the door.

  “Tell me everything!” they both said at once.

  “You first,” they both said again. Then they dissolved in laughter, Sophie pulling Carling into the room where they sat down on the rumpled bed.

  Carling eyed it mischievously until Sophie smacked her on the arm.

  “Well, what happened then?” Carling asked. “Go on, you first.”

  “Just dinner with my old friend, Philip.”

  “Just dinner,” Carling mimicked. “And no hanky-panky?”

  “Carling!” Sophie pretended to be shocked. “Well, if you must know, he did kiss me goodnight. But that was all. He wants to take up where we left off, apparently.”

  “And your Riley?”

  “I’ve told you, he’s not my Riley. Anyway, he came only to give me some tablets for my hand.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes, truly. Now, tell me how it went with Egbert.”

  Carling smiled shyly, an unusual occurrence for her. Sophie beamed back.

  “Well?”

  “He’s very nice. We had a lovely meal and . . .”

  “And?”

  “He said that I was beautiful.” She put her face in her hands and squealed. Then she looked up with her eyes shining. “He asked me to be his girl. Can you believe it?”

  “Well, of course I can. Why not? And you are beautiful.”

  “He also said I was smart and that it wouldn’t have mattered to him how pretty I was if I didn’t have a brain and a bit of spunk.” She hugged herself. “Oh, Sophie, I’m so happy.”

  “I can see that, love. You deserve it. And I think he’s a good man and an excellent match. Imagine you at your own vineyard. Madame of all you survey.” They laughed hard.

  “Yes, well, it’s still a bit of a dream, but why not? I mean, we could do it as well as anyone, right?”

  “Better, I should think,” Sophie said. “So, will it be strange to work for him now that you’re his girl?”

  “Nah, I never much obeyed him anyway, not that he’d know that, of course!”

  They hugged. “I better get to work,” Carling said. “We can’t all be ladies of leisure like you.”

  Sophie sobered after she left. She didn’t want to be a lady of leisure. She dressed and went downstairs. It was early. The bar was deserted. She sat at the piano and rested her hands on the cover. Then slowly, she opened it. With her good hand, she played a few notes and relaxed. Or tried to. But she felt like a one-handed juggler in the sideshow. If she couldn’t play anymore, then perhaps being Philip’s wife was her next best option.

  *****

  “The four of us? Out to dinner?”

  “Carling, please stop repeating everything I say,” Sophie admonished. “Yes, if you and Egbert want to, that is. Philip and I used to have a group of friends in Rome. And we can’t just keep staring at each other while we eat every meal. It’s been a week and that’s starting to get stale.”

  Carling giggled. “It will only be Egbert’s and my second time out together.”

  “That’s fine. We don’t have to stick to you like tar. We can leave you to your after-dinner drinks if you’re sick of our company and want to be alone with your fellow.”

  Carling blushed, something she did often when Egbert’s name came up. Sophie was happy for her friend, and thought her presence would alleviate a little of the strain between herself and Philip. He was courting her as if she were a duchess. Flowers, chocolates, dinners, and then kisses after dinner and the constant pressure to do even more.

  The previous evening, he’d pressed her against the wall and insinuated his leg between her skirts, his hands roaming up and down her body. They had done that numerous times before when they’d been a couple in Rome, their rooms so close they could just about climb from his balcony to hers. Sometimes they’d touched each other lying down on his bed. More than once over the years, she’d pushed for him to go even further, driven to distraction by his caresses and uninhibited by too much Italian red wine. Back then, he’d been the one to put her off, saying he was a gentleman who could wait until they were married.

  Sophie was not prudish, but now she had to be sure that this was her path in life—to be his wife—before she gave herself entirely to Philip. He’d hurt her badly before and she couldn’t help feeling he wanted to be intimate with her in order to seal their arrangement and lock her in to accepting him.

  She’d had no further contact from Riley. Even when she’d gone to the hospital for a checkup on her hand, hoping to glimpse him in such an innocent setting, she’d been disappointed. She knew she had to put him out of her mind.

  “We’ll see you at The Oakdale, at 7 sharp.”

  Sophie was trying to look forward to it. At 5 o’clock, she was out of the bath and considering her choice of clothing when there was a knock on her door. One of the housekeepers had agreed to do her laundry in the hotel’s wash room for a small fee. She opened the door and turned away to pick up her linen bag of soiled clothes.

  “It’s all ready,” she said.

  “Ready for what?”

  Riley’s voice stopped her in her tracks. Putting her hand to her throat, she could feel her pulse start to race. She looked at him, dressed in traveling clothes and had a sense of foreboding.

  “What are you doing here?”

  At this juncture, Sophie knew it would not look good if Philip, or anyone for that matter, came upon them. Riley shouldn’t have come up to her room, certainly not after dusk—and she in only her dressing gown.

  “I came to say goodbye.”

  She took a step backward into the room as if struck. Her insides clenched and she felt suddenly ill. It would take very little for her to scrunch up her face and cry. She’d left him behind in Spring City; that had been hard, but if she was honest with herself, she’d felt hopeful that she’d meet him again in San Francisco, which she had.

  Now, after being in and out of his life for weeks, it was even more difficult to let him go.

&nbs
p; “You’re going back to Colorado?”

  “Tonight. It’s an emergency. Eliza’s father isn’t well.”

  “I see.”

  “I couldn’t go without telling you goodbye.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I couldn’t leave without seeing you again.” He stepped closer and she stepped back.

  “Riley,” she warned.

  “I know,” he said somewhat harshly, dropping his hands that he’d raised to hold her. “I know. I can’t touch you. I have no right to touch you.”

  But, oh God, how she wanted him to, and she wanted to touch him back. Sophie wanted to put her hands on his arms and feel his strength and run her fingers over his muscles the way she did the keys of her piano. She wanted to rest her palms on his solid chest as he held her close and then she wanted to touch his silken cocoa-colored hair.

  She clenched her injured hand in her good one and kept them locked together. His eyes went to them.

  “You should be getting the bandages off soon. Did you take the pain tablets?”

  “No, I didn’t need them.”

  “I’m glad.” Clearly, he was stalling.

  Sophie had to get him out of her room. Before the maid came. Before Philip arrived. Before she begged him to kiss her.

  “You had better go,” she said, feeling grim. “You’re taking the ferry to Alameda?”

  “Yes.” His eyes drifted to her mouth.

  She saw no point in mentioning that Philip had come to woo her and take her back east. It would change nothing. She would offer no ultimatum, no coercion or manipulation. They’d been honest with each other from the start.

  She opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. This was so unlike when Philip left her in Rome. She’d been shocked and even a little hysterical, while he’d spouted platitudes about it being for the best.

  With Riley, she’d known it was coming, and instead of surprise, she felt calm acceptance along with the bone-deep sadness, and plainly, he was as sadly resigned as she was.

  Regarding her own future, she was uncertain of anything except that she couldn’t be near Riley after he married Eliza. It would be torture at that point. And now? Now, she had to get him out of her presence immediately. Something unthinkable would happen. They were like gunpowder and sparks.

  He stepped closer again and she had nowhere to go, her legs pressed up against her bed.

  “Riley.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. It sounded pleading to her own ears. Please leave quickly. Please kiss me before you go.

  As if she’d spoken out loud, he leaned toward her, and in the next instant, their bodies were pressed together, their lips followed suit. His kiss seemed to take all the thought from her brain and send warmth flooding through her.

  He groaned, bringing his hands up to cradle her face as their kiss deepened.

  “Sophie,” his voice was a sigh and then he nibbled her lower lip before pulling away. “I hate leaving you,” he said, his forehead against hers.

  “Philip will be here shortly.”

  He stiffened but didn’t release her. “I don’t care for the man. He hurt you.”

  Apparently, men were good at doing that, she thought bitterly.

  “He’s sorry and he wants me back. He wants to marry me.” There, she’d told him anyway.

  He made a sound, like a low growl before asking, “What do you want?”

  Was she supposed to expose her heart to him, right before he got on a train to go home to Eliza? She didn’t answer but knew he could see it in her eyes.

  “I want you, Sophie, but I know it’s wrong.” He touched her lips with his thumb. She flinched. “You were made for me, I think.”

  Riley was looking at her but seemed to be talking to himself. His hand went around and cupped the back of her head and he lowered his lips again. At the same time, she felt him kick out behind and heard the door close with a resounding slam. She jumped and pulled away.

  “We can’t do this, Riley.”

  “I can’t remember why.” His voice, low and tender, made her feel warm all over.

  She started to cry, just a few tears that slipped out before she could regain control.

  “You know why.” Her voice trembled because she, too, was finding it hard to think why it was wrong to be with this man who enveloped all her senses and to whom she was drawn so strongly that she ached to touch him.

  He wiped at a tear with the back of his finger. “I’m not sure any of those reasons are real. You’re all that matters right now.”

  What if she never saw him again?

  What if she agreed to marry Philip?

  Could she take the memories made with Riley and let them sustain her over a lifetime? Dear God, what was she thinking?

  He shook his head as though waking up from some enchantment.

  “Christ! I’m sorry, Sophie. I didn’t come here to upset you. I just wanted to look into your eyes again. I’ll never forget your eyes or the way you look at me.” He gave her a twisted smile that was more a grimace. “You are all that matters right now.”

  He stepped away from her. His jaw clenched. “I will always remember how you made me feel when you played piano.”

  That got to her. She closed her eyes. Riley understood that it wasn’t merely a gift of playing well; it was her very soul that she expressed through the music.

  “Don’t go.” Two words that would change everything—they had slipped from her without her thinking.

  “Sophie, don’t.” It was his turn to plead, his voice gruff. “Please don’t look at me that way. I’m trying to do the proper thing.” He retreated farther, until his back was against the door.

  “I’m tired of doing the proper thing,” she said. “Here, in this room, there’s only you and me. Correct?”

  He nodded. She moved closer, until she was pressing him against the door. Still, his arms remained resolutely at his sides, his fists clenched, though she noted a bead of sweat break out on his forehead.

  “And we’re adults, yes?” she persisted, reaching up to kiss the skin at his neck as she had longed to do so many times. Ah, vanilla. Gently, she bit him just to the side of his Adam’s apple. Irresistible.

  “Sophie, you’ll hate me later, and I couldn’t stand that. I don’t want to be someone who hurts you.” He looked up at the ceiling away from her gaze.

  “You already are.” She said it matter-of-factly. It was true. But it wasn’t Riley’s fault. “I know my heart will ache tomorrow and I’ll miss you terribly. But that’s a price I’m willing to pay to have you make love to me.” She touched his cheek and then rested her hand on his chest.

  He swore and she felt him tremble under her touch.

  “Riley, I’ll miss you anyway, so why not have this memory to take with us?”

  His gaze locked with hers and she waited, heart thumping wildly. What would she do if he walked out the door? Then, he reached behind him and turned the lock. Swiftly, he enclosed her in his arms and his mouth was on hers. She heard herself whimper and his answering groan. He moved with her to her bed where they tumbled together and he began pushing her robe down her shoulders.

  She wished she could tell him to slow down, and that they could take their time. Instead, everything about this was urgent. Her desire, his need, the chance of being caught, the ferry’s departure, then the connecting train. No, this wouldn’t be slow and sweet. Rather than Schumann’s Träumerei, this would be as fervent as the beginning of Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu, as their mouths and hands were everywhere at once.

  His weight lifted and while she unbelted her robe, he tore off his jacket and tossed it to the floor, followed by his shoes, socks, and his trousers. He came back to her still yanking at his tie, until he gave up and started working on his shirt buttons, but she knew he wouldn’t make it in time and she’d never get to see him fully naked standing before her.

  For her part, she was sinfully bare except for the sleeves of her robe, which spread out from under her along with the rest of it, the
deepest midnight-blue silk.

  “You look like a luminous mermaid in the dark sea.” He lowered himself gradually over her.

  The weight of his strong body thrilled her and she couldn’t stop her hips from arching up to grind against him. She felt his answering thrust, felt the smooth length of him against her pelvis.

  He kissed his way down her neck to the hollow of her throat, and she laughed. It was a desperate, joyful sound. At last, she could feel his muscles against her and breathe deeply the clean scent of him. Riley.

  He nipped the skin at her neck as she had done to his. Then his mouth moved over her collar bone, then lower between her swelling breasts. He brushed the side of his face against one nipple that beaded instantly, then he moved to the other to grasp it between his lips, his tongue circling it with precision. She arched against him again but he was slipping lower. She wanted to experience all of these new wondrous sensations, but she needed the act of mating with him before their time ran out.

  She started to spread her thighs, and, as his mouth continued to play across her skin, tasting her, he skimmed his hand down her flat stomach to her woman’s core and cupped her. She bucked. Having his large palm on her heated mound was far different than her own hand. He pressed her with the base of his palm, watching her face. She moaned out a sigh, then his finger slipped between the folds touching the bud that she’d only ever felt for herself, and she sucked in her breath. Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back.

  “God, Riley, I—”

  “Sh, just let me touch you. You’re perfect.”

  She felt his finger dip inside her and knew he could feel her growing slick with desire. Then he slipped a second finger inside her. She’d never done that, and it felt delightful. But why was he wasting time pleasuring her with his hands when he had the male part that would utterly complete her?

  “Please,” she murmured.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice rasping.