“Can you still play? What about your career?”
She shrugged. “Time will tell. It’s only been a few weeks. But I have it on good authority that my fingers will heal just fine.” She thought of Riley’s promise and smiled. “Still, it is rather inconvenient. Nerve-wracking, actually.” Rather like having the former love of your life appear out of nowhere. “How did you find me, Philip? And why are you here?”
He didn’t answer at once. Instead, he patted the bed. “Will you sit?”
She sat, keeping a good distance between them.
“I won’t bite, you know?” He looked serious for a moment. “I’ve missed you, Sophie.”
She didn’t know what to say. She had missed him, but not anymore. She could remember the feelings she had for him, then the intense pain, but now, she had so many other feelings crowding her heart.
“I went to your mother’s house first and learned you’d gone to Colorado, and then on to the west coast. I was flabbergasted. You were so far away. I think I supposed that you’d always be right where I could find you.”
“When you wanted me.”
“Touché.” He looked down at his own lap. “So here I am. Your family had your address quite wrong, however.”
“I moved here after my accident. This is temporary until my hand heals and I start to play again.”
“Where were you playing? Your mother mentioned that you had some prospects at the symphony.”
She was saved from answering by a brisk knock at her door. Now she was in a dilemma. Answer it and risk someone finding out she had a man in her room. Or ignore it and miss something important, a message from Carling, perhaps. She stood up and opened the door.
“Freddie,” Sophie said, with false jocularity. There was no way to hide the presence of another person, unless she somehow grew quite a bit wider.
“I was wondering if you’d like to join me—” He stopped dead as he saw the blond man on her bed, sitting very comfortably, arms crossed over his chest.
Sophie stepped to the side. “Freddie, this is Philip Wainright . . . from back home. He’s . . . an old friend.”
Freddie looked uncertain, but Sophie ushered him in and Philip stood up. “Philip, this is Freddie Vern, a new friend,” she said, giving Freddie an encouraging look. “And he secured this lovely room for me.” She didn’t want to mention that he was also her employer and hoped that Freddie wouldn’t bring it up either. Somehow, playing piano in a bar wasn’t the great success she wanted Philip to hear about.
The two men shook hands, posturing a bit but saying how pleased each was to meet the other.
“Well, I guess you can’t come downstairs for a drink with me tonight?” Freddie said, looking from Sophie to Philip. “Can you?”
“Uh, hm. Philip, are you staying here at The Grand?” Sophie was stalling, still unsure what Philip was doing in San Francisco.
“No, I’m next door at The Palace. Though if I’d known you were here, it would have been my first choice. Still, we have a lot to discuss,” he said, eyeing Freddie.
Did they? Sophie wondered. She couldn’t think of anything to talk to him about, now he was standing here in front of her.
Another sharp rap at her door. Sophie puffed out her cheeks in disbelief but smiled to each of the men before she squeezed between them to open the door. Tentatively she peered out.
“Riley!”
“Sophie, I know what you’re thinking,” he began but she stepped to the side so he could see the other occupants of her room and he stopped mid-sentence.
“No,” she said, “I don’t think you do.” Then she added, “Come in, Mr. Dalcourt. Meet my friends, Freddie Vern and Philip Wainright.”
“Philip!” Riley repeated, his gaze locking on him as he stepped forward. Sophie remembered then that she’d mentioned him by name to Riley, perhaps once.
“This is Riley Dalcourt . . . from Spring City,” she said lamely to Philip, hoping Riley would take Philips’s hand that was left hanging out like a limp flag.
Riley did take it finally, giving it a quick grasp and dropping it even faster, his eyes never leaving Philip’s face. Then he shook hands with Freddie.
“Riley,” Freddie repeated, thoughtfully, then obviously he remembered. “Sophie’s Riley,” he added.
Sophie jumped as Freddie repeated what Carling had said, and she saw both Riley’s and Philip’s eyes widen at his remark.
“Sophie’s Riley,” Philip said loudly, staring from her to him and back again.
“He’s my doctor,” Sophie jumped in. “I mean a doctor. Well, not quite, but almost. ”
Riley opened his mouth either to contradict or confirm, but before he could say anything, they all heard a voice, “Sophieeee,” and then a rap, rap, rap.
“Honestly,” Sophie muttered, yanking the door open again to see both Carling and Egbert. Sophie stepped sideways so they could see. Carling burst out laughing. Sophie turned to her guests.
“Since the occupancy potential of my room has been quite surpassed, I suggest we take our little party downstairs.”
“Oh, a party!” Carling exclaimed and clapped her hands. But Egbert cleared his throat.
“Actually, I was going to take Miss Rilkers to supper and we wondered if you might like to join us,” he said, directing his invitation to Sophie alone. But the unwelcoming slope of his brow made it clear that he’d been forced by Carling and he’d prefer to be alone with her.
“No, no, you two go on,” she told them, knowing she’d hear all about it the following day. “Have a wonderful meal.” She closed the door on Carling’s wicked grin and her wide, mischievous eyes.
She turned back to the gentleman. Who was next to go?
“Freddie, it was lovely of you to ask me for a drink. Perhaps another time?” He had been a good friend and she hated to put him out, but she couldn’t possibly go out with him when Philip had just arrived. She noticed that Riley and Philip had similar scowls on their faces regarding Freddie, but neither had the right to their jealousy, if that’s what they were feeling.
Freddie looked dour but nodded curtly. “I’ll be downstairs. Let me know if you need anything,” he said pointedly.
“Thank you. I will.” She gave him an extra warm smile and he left. Now, it might get a little harder.
She turned back to the two men who were left, both staring directly at her. They were striking in their differences and their similarities. One blond and blue-eyed, the other brown-haired and dusky-eyed. Both similarly tall, perhaps Philip a shade shorter, and Riley a tad broader of shoulder. Their mouths were entirely different.
Why Sophie should notice that, she didn’t know. But Philip had a bow-shaped mouth, with a full lower lip, and Riley . . . Her eyes darted to his lips. Riley’s mouth was maybe a bit wider, his lips quick to curve into a generous grin. It was imminently kissable. She caught her breath.
“Riley, what are you doing here?”
She watched Philip’s gaze swing over to Riley. She could tell that Riley wanted to ask the same of Philip, but it wasn’t his place to do so.
“I came by to give you these.” He pulled a small white packet out of his pocket. He handed it to her. “Pain tablets. Doctor Finley wanted to make sure you had them in case you start to use your hand too soon. Your fingers will be sore and stiff when you begin moving them again.”
She looked down at the envelope and shook it. It made a small rattling sound. “That’s very kind of you to come all the way across the city.”
“No trouble.”
“So,” Philip broke in, “you’re a doctor?”
“No,” Riley said. Sophie waited for him to say more, but he looked unwilling to speak to Philip.
“Riley is a medical student, nearly a doctor.” She thought it best to enlighten Philip before he got other ideas. “He works at the hospital where my hand was treated.”
“I see.” Philip rocked lightly from foot to foot.
Riley crossed his arms. Silence.
�
��I say,” Philip offered, “we’re heading out, old chap. Do you mind?”
Riley barely glanced at him. His eyes bore into hers. “I’ll leave you to your evening,” he said, moving toward the door. Stopping beside her, standing very close, he looked down into her eyes. “That is, if that’s what you want.”
She heard Philip let out an exasperated sigh. How could she possibly respond to such a remark?
“Yes, thank you.”
Riley pursed his lips in disapproval, apparently not thinking much of her spending time with the man who’d broken her heart. But all he could do was nod and leave.
“Something’s up with that fellow,” Philip said as she closed the door. She lifted her shoulders, noncommittally, noticing his frown. “I got the feeling that he had something more than pain tablets occupying his mind,” Philip persisted.
“He’s a friend. I met him in Colorado but he goes to medical school here.” What else could she say?
“Hm, you seem to have an abundance of friends here.” Then he shrugged. “But what did I think? That you would be sitting alone, pining for me. You wouldn’t be my Sophie Malloy if you were.”
His Sophie. She looked down at her hands. She had not thought of herself that way in a long time. Did she even want to spend time with Philip? Well, she wanted to hear what he had to say, even if it was only news from abroad. She looked up at him.
“I’m hungry. Would you like to get something to eat?”
Philip smiled. It was a very familiar sight and she relaxed. She’d asked him that question a hundred times, hadn’t she?
“I’d love to. The restaurant at my hotel—”
“You know, I’ve had enough of The Grand and The Palace. I’d love to go somewhere else in this city.”
“Somewhere else it is, then,” he said agreeably.
Sophie nodded. “Let me change my shoes.”
*****
“I was a numbskull, a jackass,” Philip professed for the third time.
“Yes,” Sophie said because she was tired of telling him that he wasn’t. “You were.”
He looked surprised, his fork halfway to his mouth. “But you said before that I was correct to follow my heart.”
“I did, but if you’re going to keep stating your faults, I’m eventually going to agree. Look, Philip, if you want to be free and go to the university unencumbered, that’s fine. It wasn’t fine last year because I had expectations.”
“I know you did, and I let you down.”
Sophie thought it was rather more heart-wrenching than just being “let down.” One minute they were about to be engaged and the next she’d been on a vessel bound for Boston and the comfort of her mother. Still, her sentiments had entirely changed. With her hand still bandaged and Riley Dalcourt refusing to leave her alone, she had other issues to contend with.
“Philip, we’ve talked about Oxford and my family and your family and San Francisco. Why don’t you tell me precisely why you’re here?”
He steepled his fingers on the table in front of him and stared at them a moment.
“I think I have made a mistake.”
“About?”
“Us.”
“Indeed.”
“I thought you’d be more . . . excited.”
“I don’t know as yet to what mistake you refer, so how do I know how I’m supposed to react?” Sophie took a sip of her wine and waited for him to explain. She could think of more than one mistake he’d made.
“Frankly, I think we should go back to being a couple. Your expectations were entirely correct, and Oxford would have been infinitely better with you beside me. There’s not a day that I don’t miss you, your face, all of you. I want to hear you play for me and I want you to discuss life with me again, like you used to.”
Sophie couldn’t deny that she felt an immediate sense of satisfaction, even relief. She’d been dismissed rather summarily by this man whom she had loved, as if she’d had no value in his life. It had been a blow to her ego and her self-worth. Now, at least, she felt that she hadn’t been inconsequential to him.
“Well?” he prompted, with a small upturn to his lips. “Have you nothing to say?”
She stared at his face, so accustomed was she to his moods and emotions. If she smiled sweetly back at him with agreement, he would respond in kind and take her hand. His lids would droop ever so slightly and he’d look at her from under them in a come-hither way designed to stir her passions. It would end in a kiss.
However, if instead she stayed impassive, as she felt at the moment she would, his tentative smile would disappear immediately, to be replaced by pursed lips and a slight frown of disapproval. Instead of a kiss, she’d receive a cold shoulder. She used to do nearly anything to avoid that look.
“Philip, I am surprised. You seemed so very certain not that long ago that our paths had to separate. What has changed?”
“I told you, Sophie. I missed you at Oxford. I was lonely for you. I went out with other girls, but they weren’t you.”
She wondered at her own lack of jealousy. She felt no spike of emotion, nothing compared to how she felt when she saw Eliza and Riley kissing in the backyard—jealousy combined with a physical reaction, like a strong stomach cramp.
“Of course they weren’t me, Philip. But you had me. You didn’t want me. Perhaps you haven’t found the right girl in Oxford, but that doesn’t mean you want me any more than you did last year when you left.”
He looked down at his plate and away from her dark eyes. “I remember how stunned and sad you were when I said that I was going to Oxford alone. I expected you to be happy to see me.” He was pouting.
“I am happy to see you, but I cannot give you my heart as though it were only yesterday that we were last together. Surely, you can understand that. A lot has happened since then. We’d have to fall in love again.”
Could she fall for Philip now that she’d felt such stirrings for Riley? Sophie didn’t know. He looked the same, but she was far different. Philip smiled at her once more.
“Then I shall make you fall in love with me again.”
She considered. She’d been content with what they had before, and she almost hoped he could do it.
“How long are you staying?”
“Until I have your promise to come back with me.”
“Be serious, Philip. You didn’t leave Oxford for an open-ended period of time. How long are you booked up at The Palace?”
“A week at the hotel, but that can be extended.”
If he thought she’d melt into his arms in a week, he’d better think again.
“But I’m not going back to Oxford at all,” he added. “It wasn’t for me, as it turns out.”
She sensed he was holding something back, but she didn’t press him; he fiddled with his napkin and said, “I’m considering Harvard, of course, but also Williams and Amherst.”
“Is that so?” Sophie tried to keep her face neutral though inside, she was cringing. Good God, Williams College was the last place she’d want to be, in the center of nothing. She needed a big city or at least a port town to feel as though she were somewhere alive. She could no more live in Williamstown than she could in Spring City. But then, Riley wasn’t asking her to go back to Colorado with him anyway, to live as a small town doctor’s wife. Yet if he did . . .
“Sophie, let’s go somewhere we can be alone to talk. Back to my room, or yours.”
They had spent many hours alone before, but she hesitated. They were so used to each other. When they sat close, they always used to kiss or hold hands. If he stayed late, they sometimes did a little more.
Now, however, she thought it would be inappropriate. One thing could lead to another, and they currently had no understanding or arrangement between them. And in truth, her mind was too full of Riley.
“You’re thinking too much, Soph, I can tell. Come on. I’ll get you home and you can think about what I’ve said.”
In a few minutes, they were at her door.
“It has been very strange to be with you again,” she admitted, looking up into his familiar face with his pale skin and reddish cheeks. His blond hair was cut shorter than before and his blue eyes gazed at her becomingly.
“Strange in a good way?” he asked, leaning against her door jam.
“Yes. You know, it seemed as though everything happened so fast last year. One minute, I was in Rome planning my move to England and the adjustment from sunshine to rain and pasta to pork pies. Then the next minute,” she trailed off, picturing her small flat in Rome and how lonely it was after he’d left without her.
“It’s good to see you, Philip, truly, and to know that you still care for me,” she admitted.
“Oh, I do.” With that, he reached for her and she let him pull her into his arms, until her stomach and hips were snug against his. Her senses were assaulted by the familiar feel of him and the scent of him. As she smelled the familiar sweet orange aroma of his skin, the image of the long-necked glass bottle with its pretty yellow, blue, and green label that held his Florida Water aftershave popped into her head. She sighed as his hands settled at her waist.
“I’m so sorry, Sophie, that I hurt you.”
She stared into his eyes. He hadn’t seemed sorry when he’d left her. He’d been excited at his new start. That had hurt most of all, how easily he’d seemed to part with her.
“I’ll never do that again.” He lowered his lips to hers, his mouth pressing firmly, intimately against her own. He felt familiar, and she clasped her hands behind his neck. It was the same as it always had been.
It was so utterly different than kissing Riley.
Riley! She jumped back from Philip, feeling disloyal that Riley’s name had popped into her head when her mouth was joined to another man’s.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said, stepping away from his bemused expression; perhaps he was thinking she was overcome with emotion due to his kiss. She closed the door and sat on her bed. Then she flung herself back, letting her legs remain hanging over the side.
Sophie groaned. It was nothing like Riley’s kiss. Her heart was not racing, her stomach was not clenching, her female parts were not tingling. It had been pleasant, nothing more. Philip’s kiss had not changed; she had. She knew how exciting a kiss could be.
An Irresistible Temptation Page 13
