Moonlight Masquerade

by Jude Deveraux

  “I love being short,” she murmured as he walked toward the stairs. “I’ve never figured out what tall girls do with their excess body parts.”

  Reede could have told her but at the moment he couldn’t seem to remember.

  “You smell good,” she said. As he went up the stairs, her lips were on his neck. “Smell good. Taste good. What about your inner self?”

  Reede chuckled. “Better since I met you.” He carried her down the hall to the bedroom, bent, and put her on the bed. She instantly turned to her side and went back to sleep.

  He stood there for a moment, looking at her curled up, her jeans curving around her bottom, her pink shirt clinging to her upper half. She was shaped like an hourglass, a throwback to a time when women wore corsets to give themselves a twenty-inch waist. But Sophie didn’t need a corset to get that figure. Even in modern clothes of jeans and a T-shirt she showed off her roundness top and bottom, with her tiny waist in the middle.

  Right now he should leave her. He should close the door and let her sleep, but it wasn’t going to be easy. He wanted to snuggle up next to her, wanted to make love to her. Wanted to—She turned over, her face toward his. Without opening her eyes she lifted her arms to him. It was all the invitation he needed.

  Instantly he was in bed with her, his arms, even his legs around her.

  “I missed you so much today,” he said as he kissed her neck, her face. Her clothes began to come off. “I want you with me all the time. Forever.”

  She didn’t answer, just arched her body against his, enjoying his hands, his lips, his words.

  It took him only seconds and she was nude. It was erotic for her to be naked and feel her skin against his clothes, as though they were doing something illicit, almost illegal.

  She kept her eyes closed as he kissed her breasts, his big, hard hands on her waist, his thumbs caressing her stomach.

  “Sophie, you are so beautiful. I’ve never seen a woman as perfect as you.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. His lips went lower and lower and when his tongue touched the center of her, her eyes opened in shock. This was new to her, something she’d never experienced before, and it didn’t take long before wave after wave of passion went through her.

  He brought his face back up to hers. “Okay?” he whispered.

  “I never . . . No one ever before has . . . ”

  “Yeah?” he said. “I like being the first.”

  “You’re the first at a lot of things,” she whispered, her hand on his cheek. She could feel the whiskers, that oh so masculine symbol. She kissed him, felt the whiskers under her tongue.

  “I think we should share,” she said as she lowered her hand to between his legs. He was ready for her, but she meant to take her time. Button and zipper came open quickly and when she put her hand on his hot skin, he groaned, his head back in the ecstasy of her touch.

  She liked having this power over him, liked feeling this large man become hers. His trousers easily slipped off and she felt his skin against hers. Hot, rampant with desire.

  For all that receiving pleasure was new to her, the giving of it wasn’t. Her lips moved downward slowly, taking her time, her hand lightly caressing him, her thumbs playing along his thighs.

  “Sophie,” he whispered as she took him in her mouth.

  After they’d both found release they could take their time in the joy of discovery of each other’s bodies. Caressing, touching, kissing, exploring. It took them a long time until they’d worked to fever pitch and could no longer hold back. Reede lowered her to the bed, onto her back, but Sophie laughed and pushed him down.

  “Have your way with me,” he said, sounding as though he was submitting to her greater power.

  Sophie gave a villainous laugh as she moved on top of him, then lowered herself, both of them groaning in pleasure. “Shall I shape you into a giraffe? Or a bear?” she said as she began to move on him. “Or a hawk to match your eyes?”

  His hands were on her waist, holding her, guiding. “Sophie, my love, you can do anything you want to me.”

  Their lovemaking was slow, languorous, sensual. They held back as long as they could, extending their pleasure as long as possible.

  But soon they built to a pitch and Reede pushed Sophie onto her back, her legs wrapped round him. They came together in a blaze of ecstasy, then held each other tightly, neither wanting to let go.

  “Sophie,” Reede whispered into her ear and the way he said her name seemed to say it all. They clung to each other, naked skin together, warm, glowing.

  It was the growling of Reede’s stomach that pulled them apart.

  “Food is the only thing that takes a man away from lust,” Sophie said.

  “Lust?” he said softly as he rolled off of her. “Is that what we are?”

  She wasn’t yet ready to answer that question. “Can I make you a sandwich?”

  “Please,” he said.

  Reede switched on the lamp by the bed and watched Sophie as she got out, nude, and began to dress.

  “I feel like I’m putting on a show.”

  “Yeah,” he said, with so much innuendo that she laughed.

  When she was dressed she sat on the end of the bed. “Your turn.”

  As he got out of bed, Sophie watched in appreciation. He kept in good shape and she admired the way the muscles of his chest blended into his hard, flat stomach. “Do I pass?”

  “Mmmm. Okay,” she said in a way that made him laugh.

  “Don’t say that to Mike or he’ll kill me in the next workout session. As it is, he gives me about fifty burbies to do.”

  “And what are they?”

  “Exercises designed by the devil. How about roast beef with horseradish?”

  “Sounds great,” she said as they went down the stairs.

  In the kitchen he pulled a loaf of bread from under the counter. “Are you ready for your opening tomorrow?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “I wish I could help but my patients are backed up by weeks. I’ve been busy with other things.” He grinned at her.

  She told him about Russell’s employee who was coming, but she didn’t tell him about the teaching offer. “I think Roan misses teaching.”

  “Can’t tell that he’s stopped,” Reede said. “But it was nice for him to have people to entertain today.”

  “Is the book he was writing really bad?”

  “Truly awful,” Reede said as he cut the sandwiches they’d made. He opened the fridge and saw big bowls of lemons and cut vegetables.

  “You haven’t made the soups?”

  “No time,” she said. “Besides, there wasn’t room to put them in the fridge. The cream in them has to be kept cold. I’ll do them in the morning.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  She knew he meant to spend the night but not yet.

  He saw the answer in her eyes. “I understand. When I started practicing medicine I needed to prove to myself that I could do everything. I needed to believe in myself.”

  “And do you?”

  “I did until I came back here to Edilean,” he said, making a joke, only it wasn’t one. He’d finished his sandwich and stood up. “Sophie, why don’t you move in with me? I don’t have a lot of furniture, but you and I can go buy some. It’ll be your taste, whatever you want.”

  It was tempting for her to say yes. There was part of her that wanted to let him take care of her, to let herself become half of a whole. But at the same time she wanted to see if she could do something on her own.

  “All right,” he said, “but I’m here when you’re ready.” He went to the door. “Lock this behind me and I’ll be here in the morning to help you. I don’t know anything about cooking but I can follow orders.”

  “Not from what I’ve seen,” she said, making him grin. “Now go. I need some sleep.”

  “I could help you with that. I could—”

  “Go!” she said, laughing as she pushed him out the door, then locked it behind him
.

  Once she was alone in the little shop she meant to go straight up to bed, but then she thought maybe she should juice the lemons. Roan had purchased a big commercial juicer and she could try it out. It would probably only take a few minutes to do all the lemons.

  Hours later it was midnight and she had the juicing done, more vegetables cut, and even the utensils set out to start the soups in the morning. As she made her way up the stairs she was staggering with fatigue. She set the alarm for four a.m. She probably wouldn’t need that much time to get ready but she wanted to be safe.

  She fell into bed and was asleep instantly.

  Eighteen

  Sophie knew the people of Edilean meant well, but right now she wanted to push them all out the door and lock it. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet but she was dizzy with fatigue and her mind was spinning with all the orders she’d had to fill.

  At 4:15 a.m. she’d been downstairs making what she’d thought were vats of soup, but if the breakfast traffic was any indication of what was coming at lunch, the soup wouldn’t last an hour. At four-thirty Reede called and said he was sorry but one of his patients had gone into labor and he had to attend to her. “And her husband,” he’d added. Roan arrived at six-thirty and made the coffee.

  When Sophie unlocked the front door at seven, there was a line outside. She’d planned to serve eggs and ham on bagels, but no matter how fast she moved she couldn’t keep up with the demand. Roan rang up the receipts, but he loved to talk, and people in line were impatient. Several times during the day Sophie thought of the woman having a baby. Giving birth had to be easier than the chaos of the little restaurant.

  All morning Sophie had the big flat griddle filled with eggs and ham and she tried her best to do it all.

  At 11:20 when someone said, “Are you serving lunch yet?” Sophie nearly burst into tears. She hadn’t had time to clean up from breakfast and she knew there wasn’t enough soup.

  “Need some help?” came a voice from behind her. It was a voice that was so familiar, and so comforting, that Sophie smiled before she turned around. But then, she realized who owned the voice and saw his face at the same time.

  It was Carter.

  He was at the head of the line of people waiting for Sophie to take their orders, then make their sandwiches, ladle soup, and serve it all to them.

  If Carter had shown up the day before she would have panicked. Just plain gone into an attack of fear. Were the police behind him? Were they waiting to take her away to jail for stealing the precious Treeborne cookbook?

  But right now she didn’t have time for the luxury of a panic attack. “The cookbook is being sent back to you and would you step aside so I can take these people’s orders?” She glared at him, daring him to make a scene. She didn’t see any police, so maybe Carter had come alone. If that was true, then all she had to do was say something to Roan and he’d usher Carter out. Probably by the seat of his pants.

  “Hey kid!” Roan said. “Make up your mind. You’re holding up the flow.”

  “Yeah,” the young man next in line said.

  “He’s just leaving, aren’t you?” Sophie narrowed her eyes at Carter, then lowered her voice. “You’re not in Treeborne country now and nobody is going to put you at the front of the line.” She couldn’t help smiling at that thought. Edilean may have its problems but it wasn’t owned by a tyrant of a man who allowed his son to do anything he wanted to anybody.

  Carter looked genuinely puzzled, as though no one had ever suggested that he shouldn’t be given special privileges.

  A lot of words came to Sophie’s mind of what she’d like to say to him, to tell him how he’d hurt her, and how she wished she’d never met him. But she didn’t have the time. “Go back to where you belong. People work here.”

  Still looking as though he didn’t understand what was happening, Carter moved out of line and Sophie took an order for a brie and cranberry panini sandwich.

  She couldn’t help but glance at Carter as he walked toward the door. On the drive to Edilean there’d been a dozen times when she’d thought that if he’d shown up she would have thrown herself at him. On one long stretch across East Texas she imagined that he’d so regret what he’d done and would say to her that he’d use the Treeborne resources to tear the earth apart looking for her.

  But by the time she got to Tennessee she knew he wasn’t going to come for her. And by the time she reached Virginia she was boiling with anger.

  Turning, she began to put a sandwich together. She had already apologized fifty times to people because they had to wait so long for their orders. Only two people had complained, and Roan had escorted both of them out the door.

  “Anybody else have any comments to make?” he’d asked in a voice that was used to filling auditoriums. No one else had said anything bad.

  As Sophie made the sandwich she looked up and saw Carter pulling a white apron off a peg. The sunlight came through the front windows and flashed off his golden hair. She used to like the blondness of him, like his pale skin. But now he looked almost girly.

  “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t—” she began as he took gloves from a box.

  “I’m going to help,” he said. “Don’t you think I owe you that much?”

  A shadow came over her and she knew Roan was behind her and waiting for Sophie’s decision.

  For a split second she was torn. It would feel great to put her nose in the air and tell Carter she didn’t need help or anything else from him. She liked the vision of Roan tossing Carter out. On the other hand, there were now so many people in line they were weaving about the tables.

  “Soup!” she said, then went back to the sandwich.

  She never would have believed it but Carter was excellent help. After just thirty minutes they had established a very efficient assembly line. Sophie took the orders and filled paper bowls and cups with the soup. Carter made the sandwiches and passed them over the counter. Roan took cash and credit cards.

  For all that Carter was fast and efficient—which greatly surprised Sophie—he still had that Treeborne arrogance. When some out of towner started giving him orders of no mayo, no onions, double pickles, Carter said, “Do I look like your mother?”

  There was something about Carter that made the man back down. Sophie’s eyes were wide, as she’d been trained that the customer was always right. She looked at Roan, but he nodded in agreement. He liked Carter’s attitude.

  The soup ran out by one and at the rate the bread was going it might not last to closing time at two.

  Carter yelled, “We’re having a twelve-percent-off sale on open-faced sandwiches. Fewer carbs.” Nearly everyone took him up on the offer. Only Roan grumbled at having to figure out the 12 percent discount.

  At one-thirty Reede came in, and by then most of the customers were gone.

  “Hungry?” Sophie asked, her voice full of the memory of last night.

  “For everything,” Reede said softly.

  “This is a family restaurant,” Roan said, “so you two cut it out.”

  Smiling, Reede leaned back and looked at the chalkboard. “I’ll have a—”

  “The only thing we have left is ham and cheese. No soup. Sorry,” Sophie said.

  “I’ll take whatever you have.” He noticed the man behind the counter and leaned across. “Hi, I’m—” Reede broke off when he saw Carter. He’d seen many photos of him on the Internet and he recognized the Treeborne heir, a man who stood to inherit millions from his family’s frozen food empire. The stories about him had all been good, but Reede had held Sophie while she cried, so he had a different opinion.

  Carter had heard Reede’s flirty tone with Sophie but he was used to that. In his hometown all the males had acted that way toward her. He stepped around the counter and held out his hand to shake. “I’m Carter Tree—”

  He didn’t finish because Reede hit him with a right cross smack in his face.

  Blood spurted from his nose and Carter went down, hitting
the floor hard.

  Like some predatory beast, Reede stood over him. “Get out of here,” he said. “Get out and don’t come back. Do you hear me?”

  Sophie, still behind the counter, was stunned. She’d seen no evidence of violence in Reede and hadn’t expected this. She had to admit that part of her liked—no, loved—that Reede had hit Carter. She’d certainly wanted to do that to him.

  But the larger part of her was civilized.

  “No,” she said softly, then louder, “No!” She put herself between the two men, Carter still on the floor, blood pouring from his nose. As for Reede, his fists were clenched, ready to do more hitting. He was a great deal bigger than Carter, and right now he looked like some knight of old.

  She put her hands on Reede’s arms. “He helped me today and you have to look at his nose.”

  “Out!” Roan yelled to the remaining customers, who were staring with great interest.

  “But my—” one man began.

  “Come tomorrow and you’ll get a free soup,” Roan said as he cleared the place, locked the door, and turned back to the others.

  Reede was still standing over Carter, his fists clenched, and the smaller man was on the floor, looking as though he didn’t dare get up.

  Roan got his phone out of his pocket and sent a text message to Reede’s office that his medical bag was needed. SOMETHING FOR A BLOODY NOSE, he wrote.

  “Reede,” Sophie said and looked at him half in pleading and half in command.

  It took him a moment to recover, then he held out his hand to help Carter up. Hesitantly, the smaller man took it, sat down in a chair, and put his hand to his nose.

  “Don’t touch it,” Reede snapped.

  Carter put his hand up in protection, as though Reede was going to strike him.

  “He’s not going to hurt you,” Sophie said. “At least not again, are you, Reede?”

  “No,” he said. “Put your hand down and let me see your nose.”

  “Are you crazy?” Carter asked.

  “He’s a doctor,” Sophie said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. No doctor would—” Reede’s look cut him off, and Carter dropped his hands to his side.