A Taste of Paradise

by Connie Mason

  “Sophia was fleeing from a dangerous situation.”

  “Oh, my,” Grace whispered. “Please continue.”

  “Her stepbrother had sold her virtue to a man to whom he owed a gambling debt. Sophia managed to escape her would-be ravisher and fled into the night. He called the Watch, charged her with assault and pursued her. When she found herself near Southwark quay, she sneaked aboard my ship.”

  “Oh, my,” Grace repeated. “How horrible for Sophia.”

  “I always knew Caldwell was a bastard,” Justin put in.

  “I discovered Sophia on my ship the following day, too late to turn back,” Chris continued.

  “That must have been some meeting,” Justin commented.

  Chris plowed his fingers through his hair, recalling that day as if it were yesterday. “It was. I swear Sophia was put on this earth to torment me.”

  “So how did you end up married?” Justin wondered.

  Chris paced as he spoke, revealing most but not all of the facts leading to his marriage to Sophia.

  “So you really were forced into the marriage,” Justin mused. “Sophia hinted as much, but I didn’t know what to believe.”

  “How chivalrous of you,” Grace said. “You married Sophia to protect her and then fell in love with her.”

  Chris stopped his pacing and stared at Grace. “Why ever would you think I love Sophia?”

  “It’s true, isn’t it? Sophia loves you, she told me as much. The problem, as she sees it, is your inability to forgive yourself for Desmond’s death.”

  “I’ll carry that guilt to my death. Desmond’s parents lost their son and heir. How can I forgive myself for that?”

  “It’s time to forget and forgive,” Justin advised. “You can’t be happy in your marriage until you do.”

  “Justin is right,” Grace said. “Don’t you want a family of your own and a wife who loves you?”

  “I do, but I don’t know if I deserve those things.”

  Grace gave an exasperated snort. “Honestly, Chris, you are the most stubborn man I’ve even known. Forgive yourself and get on with your life. Make up with Sophia—that’s the best advice I can give you.”

  Justin was of a different opinion. “Grace is right about forgiving yourself, but whether or not you and Sophia can find happiness is debatable. You’ve made no effort to hide your contempt for her since that tragic day. I wouldn’t recommend reconciliation unless you are certain you can get past Desmond’s death. Why don’t you stay here tonight and call on Sophia tomorrow? Have dinner with us and get acquainted with your new nephew.”

  Chris wavered, but in the end he declined the offer of dinner and a bed, although he did want to see his nephew. He followed Grace and Justin to the nursery. Grace picked up her son and presented him for Chris’s inspection.

  “Meet Lord Theodore Christian,” Grace said, beaming.

  Chris’s admiration was genuine. Tiny Teddy was a handsome lad who yawned hugely and clutched Chris’s finger with surprising strength. When he began rooting around for his mother’s breast, Grace laughed and shooed the men from the nursery so she could nurse her babe.

  Justin gave Chris Sophia’s location as he walked his brother to the door.

  Chris frowned. “My bank account was at Sophia’s disposal; couldn’t she find lodgings in a better neighborhood?”

  “Sophia said the town house she rented suited her needs. When I saw she couldn’t be swayed, I let her have her way. Your wife has a mind of her own, Chris, if you haven’t discovered that by now.”

  “I know that better than anyone.”

  Justin wished him good luck. Chris knew he was going to need it as he mounted his horse and rode away. He was well acquainted with Sophia’s stubbornness. But if the last three months without his wife had proved anything, it was the startling fact that he had missed her.

  Sophia had been feeling ill ever since her move to her town house. Furthermore, she knew the reason for her malaise and was thrilled. Three months had passed since she had been with Chris, but she hadn’t suspected she was increasing until just recently. She had wished for a child, but the signs of impending motherhood had escaped her notice. She’d been far too involved with Grace’s lying-in and finding suitable lodgings to think about her missed courses.

  One thing bothered her, however. If she hadn’t been ill before, why now? Was something wrong with the babe? Her appetite was off, and she wasn’t sleeping well.

  Sophia wandered aimlessly about her bedroom, trying to decide whether to go for a walk or lie down and sleep. She was always tired these days.

  Casper had accompanied his tutor on an outing and would be gone for hours. She wasn’t expecting callers, for she hadn’t been formally recognized by Society and probably never would. She was seriously considering moving to the country with her babe when her sixmonth lease was up on the town house.

  Listlessly she picked up a book she had purchased on her latest foray to a bookstore, but she was so sleepy the words began to run together. She put the volume down and stretched out on the bed. She was asleep in minutes.

  Chris almost had to force his way into Sophia’s town house. The butler, who said his name was Dunning, had refused him entrance. Dunning said his mistress was indisposed and not receiving visitors. Even after Chris had identified himself as Sophia’s husband, the man remained reluctant to let him enter. His patience exhausted, Chris brushed past Dunning and took the stairs two at a time. He found Sophia’s room easily enough but stopped in his tracks when he saw his wife sleeping soundly, her face pale against the dark pillow of her hair.

  He touched her cheek and whispered her name. She didn’t stir. What was wrong with her? What had changed Sophia into this pallid imitation of his vivacious wife? She was sleeping so soundly he didn’t have the heart to wake her. He tiptoed out of the room and closed the door behind him. As he started down the stairs, he heard voices in the foyer. They belonged to Dunning and another that he recognized immediately.

  Chris continued down the stairs, wondering what Amanda Dartmore was doing here.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he demanded, “Why are you here, Amanda?”

  Amanda squealed in delight and threw herself into Chris’s arms. He tried to push her away, but she clung to him. “Christian! I was with Aunt Agatha when Uncle Chester arrived. He said he’d arrived aboard the Intrepid, and that you were in London, too. I came as soon as I could get away.”

  Aware that Dunning was staring at them, Chris dismissed the butler and peeled Amanda off of him. “This won’t do at all, Amanda. I have a wife, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “Oh, pooh, why should that bother you? Your marriage was no love match, so why should we deny ourselves? Remember how good we were together?”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  Amanda threw herself at him, pressing her voluptuous body against his. “Not that long ago. This is London, not Kingston. Infidelity is expected among the ton.”

  “I’m not ton, if you recall. I’m not welcome in Society.”

  “Oh, pooh! That was then, this is now. Scandals come and go; few people remember what happened seven months ago, let alone seven years.”

  “It’s over between us, Amanda; I thought I made that clear in Jamaica. Admit it and let us get on with our lives. You’ve taken lovers during my long absences—why this obsession with me now?”

  She licked her lips and gazed up at him. “You’re the best lover I’ve ever had, Chris. I couldn’t wait for Dartmore to die. When he did, I traveled to Jamaica to tell you, and found you married. I had hoped we would wed and take up where we left off in London.”

  Stunned, Chris stared at her. “What ever gave you the idea we would wed if you were free? I thought we both understood that our relationship was based on pleasure, that commitment was neither wanted nor expected.”

  “Speak for yourself, Chris,” Amanda huffed.

  Before Chris knew what she intended, she grasped his head and pulled it
down for a kiss. Her arms closed like vises around his neck, and her mouth clung to his lips with stubborn determination.

  Chris heard a choking sound behind him and broke Amanda’s strangle-like hold on him.

  “Don’t let me interrupt your reunion,” Sophia said from the top of the stairs. “Have you tired of my stepbrother already, Amanda?”

  Chris groaned. “Sophia, this isn’t what it looks like.”

  Sophia started down the stairs but stopped before she reached the bottom. “What am I supposed to think when I find the husband I haven’t seen for months kissing another woman in my foyer?”

  “Chris and I are very old, very dear friends, I thought you understood that,” Amanda sniffed.

  “So I did. When did you dump Rayford?”

  Amanda shrugged. “Ray was becoming annoying. His creditors began showing up at my door, threatening to throw him in debtor’s prison if he didn’t pay them. Besides,” she added, “as amusing as he was, he expected me to provide the blunt to keep him solvent. I no longer wanted him around.”

  “How did you know Chris was in London when even I wasn’t aware of the fact?”

  “Sophia,” Chris said, “I can explain.”

  Contempt colored Sophia’s words. “An explanation isn’t necessary. I have two good eyes in my head.”

  Chris groaned in frustration. “Please leave, Amanda.”

  “When can I expect you to call on me?” Amanda asked, smiling up at him.

  “Never.”

  “Really, Chris, you don’t have to be rude.”

  “It’s the only way I can make you understand.”

  “Well!” she sputtered, gathering her skirts about her.

  Chris held the door open, then slammed it behind her after she swished out.

  Sophia felt her heart shatter as she watched Amanda leave. She had awakened earlier to the sound of voices echoing up from the foyer. Curious, she had risen from bed, washed her face, combed her hair and left her room. Once in the hallway, she had recognized Chris’s voice. He had returned from Jamaica! Apprehension mixed with happiness had pulsed through her as she reached the top of the open staircase and gazed down into the foyer. But Chris wasn’t alone. Amanda Dartmore was in his arms.

  Anger had surged through her. When she saw them kiss, any hope Sophia harbored for a happy future with Chris evaporated. What she felt now was disappointment and hurt.

  Chris started up the stairs. “Sophia, are you all right? You look so pale.”

  Sophia bristled. “How am I supposed to look when I find my husband kissing another woman?”

  “If you’d looked closely, you would have seen that I wasn’t participating in the kiss. Amanda was the last person I expected to see today.”

  “Today? What about tomorrow or the day after that?”

  “This is ridiculous, Sophia. Why would I want to see Amanda at all? I made it abundantly clear in Jamaica that I wasn’t interested in her.”

  “Obviously not clear enough.”

  She turned and started back up the stairs. Near the top, her foot tangled in her skirts, she tottered for a moment and then started to fall backward. She grasped frantically for the banister and found nothing but air. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the worst, folding her arms over her stomach to protect her babe. Then suddenly she was floating in air, cradled in Chris’s strong arms.

  She began trembling, too shaken to speak.

  “I was right behind you, Sophia. I wouldn’t have let you fall.”

  He carried her to her room and lowered her to her feet. She looked around, a puzzled expression on her face. “You carried me straight to my room. How did you know?”

  “I was up here earlier. You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to awaken you. Then Amanda arrived.”

  Sophia stiffened. She didn’t want to be reminded of how badly it had hurt to see Chris kissing Amanda. “Forgive me for interrupting your passionate reunion.”

  “It wasn’t like that, Sophia. I came straight here from Justin’s house. I had no idea Amanda was with Lady Agatha when Lord Chester arrived home. He sailed with me aboard the Intrepid. Amanda took it upon herself to come here. How did she know where you lived?”

  “From Rayford, I suspect.”

  “Has he been bothering you?”

  “Not really. Amanda has been keeping him far too busy.”

  Sophia put some distance between them. Chris was too attractive, too vitally alive for her peace of mind. On one hand she wanted to throw herself into his arms and on the other she wanted to flay him with the sharp edge of her tongue. The man was impossible. Impossibly handsome, impossibly arrogant, impossibly tempting. She couldn’t bear any more hurt.

  Chris reached for her. “This isn’t the kind of home-coming I anticipated, Sophia. I hoped you’d be glad to see me.”

  She slipped out of his reach. “You sent me away, remember?”

  “For your own safety.”

  “You should have waited to see if danger actually existed before getting rid of me.”

  He stalked her until she had nowhere to go to escape him. “The danger was very real. Fortunately, nothing came of it. I came to London to fetch you and Casper as soon as the Intrepid returned to Kingston Bay to take on new cargo. I thought we would remain in London until after the Christmas holiday. I want to give the crew several weeks’ shore leave. They need to spend time with their families, and I promised Grace I’d stick around for little Teddy’s christening and spend the holidays with them.”

  “Will you stay with Justin or find rooms of your own?”

  Chris sent her a puzzled look. “I intend to stay right here with my wife. What makes you think I’d want it any other way?”

  “Lady Amanda. Won’t a wife hinder your . . . affair?”

  He reached for her again and this time he caught her. “Dammit, Sophia, I have no interest in Amanda.”

  “You could have fooled me.” She searched his face. “Have you forgiven yourself for Desmond’s death? Do you still hold me responsible for the duel?”

  “Why bring that up now?” He pulled her against him. “We haven’t seen one another in months.” His next words rumbled from his chest in a husky whisper. “I don’t want to argue. I want to take you to bed and love you.”

  Sophia wanted that, too, even though she knew his need was driven by lust, the only emotion he was capable of. But before she could voice her reservations, he grasped her head between his hands and raised it for his kiss. As always, his kiss was pure magic, capable of making her forget her resolve, her name, her very reason.

  She needed time to pull her ragged thoughts together. She broke off the kiss and looked into his angular face, burnished a deep gold by the Jamaican sun. His eyes, a startling blue, searched hers. Ignoring her reservations, she raised her hands to his chest.

  Chris grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

  Unable to resist the magic of his kisses, Sophia slid her arms upward and stepped closer, locking her hands at his nape. She pressed herself against him and lifted her lips for another kiss.

  Their lips met and fused. Hungrily. She felt his arms encircle her waist, close viselike about her as his mouth settled over hers. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers.

  Startled by her easy acceptance following her angry words, Chris shackled the demons still plaguing him after seven years and concentrated on his delectable wife. It had been too long since he had made love to Sophia. He molded her to him, urging her hips nearer, cupping the firm globes of her bottom and drawing her forcefully into the V of his braced thighs.

  He eased back, aware of her hands on his chest, burning him, branding him, her fingers kneading. He was desperate to rid them of their clothing. Brushing her hands aside, he unknotted his cravat, then dragged the long strip free.

  Dear God, if he wasn’t inside her soon he’d go mad.

  Hauling his shirttails free of his trousers, he pulled the constricting garment over his head without bothering wit
h the buttons and tossed it aside. Then he spun her around and undid the laces on the back of her gown. Grasping the sleeves, he shoved the gown past her hips and lifted her out of it, kicking it away with his foot. Her shift followed. He pulled her into his arms, grateful that she wore neither corset nor drawers.

  “I’ve dreamed of having you naked in my arms again.”

  “Are you sure it was me you dreamt about?”

  Chris muttered a curse. “Don’t spoil it, sweetheart. Forget the past and let me love you.”

  His hand slipped between them, cupping her breast. He weighed it in his hand and frowned. “My memory must be failing me. You’re larger than I recall.” Then he smiled. “I like it.”

  “Only because you imagine I’m someone else.”

  “I know precisely who you are. You’re my wife, and I love making love to you.”

  He proceeded to prove his words as he bent his head and suckled her nipple.

  Sophia caught her breath as he stroked and kneaded one breast while teasing the other with his tongue and teeth. She moaned out a protest when he released both breasts, dropped to one knee and clasped her waist.

  “I need to taste you,” he whispered, planting a kiss in the valley between her breasts before moving lower, over the slight bulge of her belly to the V between her legs.

  Her legs started to buckle; Chris’s strong arms about her were all that supported her. She clutched his head as his bold, hungry mouth rooted for the slick folds between her thighs. His thick hair flowed over her hands in a silken mass of brown; she couldn’t resist stroking it.

  His muffled voice sent tremors down her body. “You smell like Paradise and taste like honey. I’ve missed you.”

  Sophia did not reply. She had already offered Chris her love and had been rejected. Admitting how much she had missed him would serve no purpose.

  Her silence didn’t seem to bother him. Spreading her legs, he held the petals of her sex open with his thumbs and laved her with the rough pad of his tongue.

  Her legs turned to jelly. She grasped his shoulders.

  With effortless grace he scooped her off her feet and into his arms, leaving her weak and wanting. “Chris . . .”