An Irresistible Temptation

by Sydney Jane Baily

Sophie stared at him a moment. She’d played for large audiences with nary a qualm when performing at school, but now, wanting to play flawlessly for Riley, she felt a few raw nerves. It was an odd sensation.

  “All right.” She sat back down and, flicking her long, nearly black hair over her shoulders, she closed her eyes a moment and decided what to play. Not her own composition that he’d stumbled upon, but something really spectacular. Of course—Mozart’s Rondo alla Turca.

  She started and played for five minutes, then ten, not noticing the passing of time but occasionally looking over at him. He sat with his eyes closed, taking it in. She liked that. It was easier to play without him watching her. When she finished, after the last resonance receded, there was only silence. Then Riley’s chair creaked and he stood up and came over to her.

  He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Then he took her other hand and brought her round to face him. She thought he’d say that she played well. It was, after all, a difficult piece. Yet as she looked up into his warm brown eyes, she caught her breath at what she saw. She knew what was coming; she’d seen that look on a man’s face before, and she couldn’t move even if she’d wanted to.

  Sure enough, Riley lowered his head and brought his lips down to hers.

  Sophie stayed frozen. She should step back and slap him. She should scream at his outrageous behavior. She did neither. Instead, she leaned in to his tender kiss, and as she did so, whatever was happening between them ignited like wildfire.

  His mouth slanted across hers and his lips moved against her own, while his hands dropped hers to encircle her waist and pull her closer. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of him, clean vanilla and a hint of leather. Her own hands moved up to rest against his broad chest, and she could feel the staccato of his heartbeat, loud and fierce against her sensitive fingers.

  When his mouth became more insistent and opened against hers, she felt his teeth tug at her lower lip and her knees went weak.

  “Sophie,” he half-whispered, half-groaned against her mouth.

  She was about to pull away, knew that she had to, but before she did, she barely touched his lip with her tongue. Suddenly, his hands were buried in her hair, pulling her closer, and instead of letting go, she was lifting her arms around his neck and standing on tiptoe to give him better access.

  She relished the feel of her breasts grazing the front of him and her taut nipples being crushed between them. His tongue was urging her lips apart and she opened them, letting him slip inside. Instantly, she felt a low flutter in her stomach and, a moment later, dampness between her legs.

  “Riley,” she said, her voice and her breathing ragged. “Please.” Stop this madness, for I cannot. Let me go, she urged silently.

  As if he’d heard her unspoken pleas, he did stop, pressing his forehead to her own. Eyes closed, breathing heavy.

  “Damn.”

  She was caught by the tone of his voice, shaken, stunned, and sensual.

  “Damn,” she said back. And he laughed softly, still locked in their close embrace, so she could feel all his body moving as he did. But she had the distinct notion that he didn’t think it any more amusing than she did.

  “What was that?” he asked at last, leaning away so he could look into her face, keeping his hands on her waist.

  That was splendid, she wanted to say; however, as he gently ran his thumb across her lower lip, she stepped away.

  “It was completely wrong, that’s what it was.” She went down the hall to the kitchen on unsteady legs.

  “Because of Eliza?” He was following closely behind her.

  “Of course,” she said without turning around. “You are engaged to be married. You are in love with your fiancée.” She hated that her words sounded more like a question than a statement. Wasn’t he?

  “I am engaged,” he agreed, causing her a pang of regret she had no right to feel.

  He sat down heavily at the kitchen table and, still without looking at him, Sophie lit the stove with shaky hands and put on the kettle. When she had her emotions in check, she turned. He had his head in his hands.

  “But I don’t love her,” he said without looking up, muffled into his hands. “I care about her because I’ve known her so long. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her.”

  Like having a broken heart. Sophie could easily imagine Eliza’s pain.

  “But I don’t ever feel like I need to kiss her.” He raised his head and looked at her, his tawny eyes locking with her dark blue ones. “Sophie, I was desperate to kiss you. And I want to do it again. And more.”

  She swallowed. “I think this is called . . . lust,” she told him, not denying that she wanted him, too.

  He dropped his head back down and laughed, but it wasn’t a joyful sound. Running his hand through his hair, he asked her, “Have you ever been in love?”

  She hesitated, pouring the water into the tea pot. She thought of Philip and how many tears she’d cried. She would have married him if he’d proposed to her. She had let Philip kiss her many times and they’d touched each other in ways that probably should have waited until after their wedding vows.

  But Riley’s kiss—that was something else altogether. It was overwhelming in its intensity, and she had to curl her fingers into her palms to finally speak without trembling. Had she ever been in love?

  “Yes.”

  Riley lifted his head off his hands again, looking directly at her. “So where is he?”

  “Perhaps he felt about me the way you say you feel about Eliza.” It hurt her to think that Philip could dismiss his feelings for her as easily as Riley had for Eliza. “Unlike you, though, Philip didn’t seem to mind how he hurt me.” That made her want to have another good cry. She ought to be alone. “I think you better leave.”

  “You just made me a cup of tea,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, yes I did.” She was dazed, shocked even by the fierceness of the desire she had felt—still felt—for this man, as soon as he’d touched her.

  “All right, you can stay for tea.” She sat down with offerings of milk and sugar for the tea and they both slowly stirred the steaming, milky liquid. Now that her heart had stopped pounding, Sophie decided she was glad he wasn’t going to jump up and ride away too quickly.

  “Why did you come here?” she asked him.

  He pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket. “You have a telegram.”

  He handed it to her. It was folded in three but not sealed. There was no privacy in this town. She wondered if Riley had read it. She set it down. It had to be from Charlotte and might mention San Francisco. What if he thought she was following him?

  “Aren’t you going to read it?”

  “Later.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t read upside down very well.”

  She rolled her eyes and opened it, holding the paper closely.

  Dearest Sophie,

  Too much info about San Francisco to put in this telegram. Yes, music. Loads of it. You would love it. Reed is furious and thinks I’m pushing you farther west. Sending you long letter today. Love, Charlotte.

  She folded it again and laid it carefully beside her tea cup.

  “Is it from this Philip character?”

  “No.” Why would he think such a thing?

  “He’s an idiot, then. He ought to be begging your forgiveness.” He stood up. “I have to go. I promised Doc I’d pick up some supplies in Denver.”

  They were at the front door before he spoke again. “I’ll do some thinking while I’m riding. I have to figure out what to tell Eliza.”

  What to—

  She put her hand to her mouth. Was he going to rip the girl’s heart out as Philip had done? Because of her? “Riley, what do you mean?”

  He looked down at her and she saw his jaw clench. Very slowly, he reached out and curled his hand around the back of her neck. Mesmerized by his gaze, Sophie didn’t flinch as he held her steady, then drew her in. She held her breath as Riley lowered his hea
d, but this time, his kiss was feather light. Even so, she was unable, or unwilling, to pull away until he released her. She drew in a long, ragged breath.

  At last he answered her question. “I don’t know, but I can’t imagine going through the rest of my life without that.”

  And he was gone.

  Without that, he’d said. She sank down onto the piano bench. Without that feeling, be it desire or passion—whatever it was that he was missing with Eliza Prentice. He hadn’t said “without you,” Sophie noticed, but that would have been unthinkable. They’d only known each other a week. Despite the short time, though, it was quite obvious that she’d awakened something in him that Eliza didn’t fulfill.

  Plainly, he wanted her. To be honest with herself, Sophie wanted him, too. But she squared her shoulders. She would tell him no if he tried to kiss her again.

  *****

  Riley pushed out of Sophie Malloy’s house and vaulted onto his horse in one angry bound. Damn him for a fool! Why had he even ventured over there, knowing the temptation, knowing how irrationally he was behaving in her presence? And now he’d gone and kissed her!

  He spurred his mount into a gallop, hoping that the dry breeze would blow away the lascivious thoughts in his head, thoughts that were sending heat shooting straight to his groin. He ought to be hanged for even thinking them.

  The thundering hoof beats beneath him merged with the memory of Sophie’s piano playing. He took a deep breath, puffed out his cheeks and released it. The music he’d heard when he walked up to the Sanborn home had gone right inside him and grabbed his heart. It was so sad and so beautiful at the same time. Like Sophie.

  And then she’d played only for him—complex music that seemed to build and grow and expand in the room. It was as if she were giving him a gift with each note, each chord. How could he not kiss? He’d been compelled to. He still was.

  He’d meant what he said to Sophie. It seemed unimaginable never again to experience what he’d felt when holding her. He certainly hadn’t felt anything like it before, not with Eliza and not with any other woman he’d ever touched. And he couldn’t know for sure, but he was fairly certain that Sophie had felt something, too.

  But what in the hell could he tell Eliza that wouldn’t destroy their carefully negotiated engagement? Absolutely nothing. He wouldn’t disappoint her for the world, and the option to sweep away his obligations simply did not exist. Nor could he ever bring himself to hurt a woman whom he had known his entire life and who trusted him.

  In the end, he’d lied to Sophie, hadn’t he? He had no choice but to live without her. If he was smart, he’d never go near her again.

  *****

  “Done and done,” Sophie said, brushing off her hands while Sarah mopped her own forehead with a handkerchief.

  “We did it.”

  “Yes,” said Sophie, feeling satisfied.

  “We should have asked for help, perhaps.” Sarah eyed the two trunks in the back of the wagon; it had taken them nearly ten minutes to push them up the makeshift ramp they’d created.

  “Yes, but we didn’t.” Sophie didn’t want to ask Riley for any favors. He was not her man, and Doc was busy. “Let’s get them to the platform.”

  “And then we’ll come back for the other one.”

  Sophie looked at the last trunk. If they could make the ramp higher . . .

  “Forget about it, girl,” Sarah said, guessing Sophie’s thoughts. “It won’t take but a few minutes to get to the station, unload, and come back.”

  As it turned out, they didn’t have to do it by themselves. Dan from the feed store was loading sacks when they arrived at the platform .

  “Good day, ladies.” He tipped his hat to them. Before they knew it, he’d not only unloaded the trunks destined for Boston, but scooted with Sophie back to Charlotte’s house to get the last one.

  As they turned the wagon in to Charlotte’s homestead, Sophie, seated next to Dan, heard horse’s hooves.

  “Hey-ho, Riley,” Dan called out. Sophie turned to see him, but except for staring in their direction and raising his hat, Riley made no answering call. Sophie wanted to tell him why she was driving with Dan to her home, feeling uncomfortable that he might get the wrong idea.

  The next second, she realized how silly that was. How could she care about the opinion of a man who had two-timed his fiancée by passionately kissing her?

  But she did.

  Chapter Six

  Sophie went to the post office in the general store for two days in a row, hoping to receive Charlotte’s missive. She had seen neither hide nor hair of Riley Dalcourt, which had made her a tad edgy, though she knew it was for the best. Temptation had never been her friend—she remembered how she’d been sick on chocolate as a child and on absinthe in Paris, much to Philip’s amusement.

  She had to admit that every fiber of her being would like to be kissed by Riley again, but every moral fiber of her soul knew it was wrong. She would avoid temptation and its consequences, she vowed.

  As she had not heard a bloodcurdling scream from the direction of Eliza’s house, Sophie figured Riley had not, in the end, said a word to his fiancée about their kissing. She assured herself that was for the best. But what if she ended up being neighbors with him and his new bride in San Francisco?

  Ridiculous! What a silly notion. In such a large city, if she indeed decided to go, she might never run in to them at all. Why, even here in Spring, she hardly had set eyes on Eliza since the train accident. And then her luck ran out.

  “You-hoo,” Eliza called to her as she stepped out of Webster’s.

  Sophie considered breaking into a run. After all, the woman had packages in her hands and could easily be out maneuvered.

  “Sophie,” Eliza called out again, and Sophie slowed to a stop, just as Eliza planted herself right in her path.

  “I want to say I’m sorry for my behavior in the restaurant.” Eliza’s pale blue eyes were peering up at her sincerely.

  “No, please don’t,” Sophie said, realizing at once that being apologized to by someone whom you have actually wronged is about as uncomfortable an experience as sitting on a pin cushion. She felt as if, somehow, Eliza would see evidence of Riley’s betrayal, written on her own guilty face. “I mean, it’s unnecessary.”

  “Yes, it is necessary,” the petite blond continued. “I have a temper and I use it without thinking.”

  That seemed rather self-aware for someone whom Sarah Cuthins seemed to think was a spoiled brat. On the other hand, if that was the reaction when all Riley did was eat a meal with another woman, what would Eliza do if she discovered his latest indiscretion? Sophie didn’t want to find out. All she could do was smile in what she hoped was a friendly way.

  “Well, to make it up to you, I want you to come to my house for dinner on Saturday?”

  That was a surprise!

  “Well, I . . . uh . . . hm.” Sophie could think of no plausible excuse. Except . . . “I may have already left Spring City by then. But thank you, all the same.”

  “Oh, so soon.” Did Eliza look happier? “But if you’re still here, then you’ll come? Yes?”

  “Well, I’ll have to check with Sarah. I may have mentioned I’d dine with—”

  “Oh, Sarah won’t mind one way or the other,” Eliza interrupted. “Please say yes. It’s the least I can do.”

  “All right, then,” Sophie said at last, not seeing any way short of leaving town that she could get out of it.

  “Wonderful,” Eliza crowed, as if she meant it. “And do bring Riley’s friend Dan. I hear you’re sort of sweet on him.”

  At Sophie’s open mouth, Eliza added, “I can invite him separately if you like.”

  “No, I’m not; that is, please don’t—”

  “Well, it can’t be only you and me and Riley. We need a foursome, and Daddy can’t join us for dinner.”

  Sophie blanched. Now it was a dinner party of four?

  “Then it’s settled. You go ask Dan and we’ll see y
ou on Saturday. Ta-ta.” And she was gone.

  What the devil just happened? Sophie watched Eliza walk back toward her house. Why did Eliza suppose she liked Dan? Unless Riley had mentioned seeing them together. How odd! But Eliza was right. They certainly couldn’t have a dinner with the three of them. It would be the height of discomfort. It would be bad enough with the four of them, but at least Dan would be a distraction. He had not only been helpful with her trunks, he’d displayed good humor, as well.

  And Sophie had to admit that a little society would be welcome. She knew Charlotte had survived here with not much besides Sarah for companionship, but Sophie was used to friends gathering in each other’s parlors back home and, certainly, parties. She also couldn’t deny she was intrigued, if not eager, to see Riley again. Perhaps she would find there was nothing between them after all; that it had been a peculiarly tempting situation which, upon seeing him once more, she felt no inclination to repeat.

  So she found herself asking Dan to dinner on Saturday.

  He looked stunned, then gladdened by the invitation.

  “You know, it’s been a long time since I was inside the Prentice house. It’ll be interesting, I reckon.”

  “I reckon,” Sophie murmured under her breath, having never used the word before. He picked up a sack of grain and hoisted it over his shoulder heading to the back of Drew’s store. The ground sloped sharply away at the back, and the rear door led to a deck built on stilts.

  “You can see over the whole valley back here,” Dan told her, inviting her to look.

  Sophie ventured after him, to see the view she’d experienced from the train when she’d arrived. It was lovely, but so empty, with nothing on the horizon but trees and mountains. She missed the city, no doubt about it. Right then, movement on the right caught her eye.

  As the ground sloped away and curved right, it met up with Main Street and the Prentice house was a few blocks down. Part of the house was visible from where she stood but mostly she could look down into the back yard that stretched on forever until the cultivated area ended and the wild landscape began. And in that yard were Eliza and Riley, walking toward a small flowerbed with a bench and behind it, an arbor. Sophie was transfixed.