An Irresistible Temptation (28 page)

She dreaded the long hours on the train,
hours in which she would do nothing but attempt to read while
futilely pushing thoughts of Riley Dalcourt out of her head. At
least, she could go home with copies of the symphony’s programs,
her name prominently displayed with the other musicians, and feel
proud of what she’d accomplished so far.

“You look pensive,” said Henry coming to sit
beside her and hand her a glass of wine. “Good thoughts, I
hope.”

Dear Henry.
In some ways he reminded
her of her brother; the way he conducted the orchestra was similar
to how Reed handled a case in court: No nonsense, fair, and with
exacting standards.

“Yes, I was thinking of how lovely it will be
to go home for Christmas.” She told him her half-truth and then
changed the subject. “It’s a successful Thanksgiving, don’t
you—”

The words died on her lips as, in the
background, behind Henry, she saw Riley enter the room. He looked
so handsome her heart hurt, dressed as he was in a gray suit, vest,
and boiled white shirt. She watched him pull at the collar as if it
bothered him. He came to a stop in the middle of the room.

“Rivals the best I ever had in
Massachusetts,” Henry agreed.

She could see Riley was searching the room
and, helplessly, she stood up as if pulled by a puppeteer. His gaze
snapped to her instantly, his face remaining shuttered as he
contemplated her.

With supreme effort, she dragged her
attention back to Henry, who had also stood up.

“I’m afraid I have to get going. I’ve been
asked to stop by a few homes,” he said.

Sophie nodded, trying hard to follow their
conversation when her brain was already imagining what Riley might
say and what she might say back. But this was Henry, her
friend.

“Bohemian Club members’ homes?” she asked,
not surprised by how promptly Henry had been welcomed into the
elite group of San Francisco’s professionals and patrons of the
arts.

“Yes. You don’t mind, do you?”

She could feel Riley approaching.

“Not at all. I think I have quite enough
people here to keep me company. I had no idea this many would turn
out. We have more displaced musicians away from their families than
I imagined.”

Henry smiled wryly. “I think it’s more the
case that most of the musicians prefer the people in this room to
their actual families.”

She knew Riley had paused a few feet away,
apparently not wanting to interrupt. “And is Miss Barbour
accompanying you on your visits this evening?” Sophie indicated the
lovely young lady talking animatedly with Otto.

“Yes,” Henry blushed. “I am very fond of
Inez.” The dark-haired soprano from Pennsylvania had been with them
only a short time, but, plainly, Henry was head-over-heels for
her.

“That’s wonderful,” Sophie said, meaning it
with all her heart. “And you know, Henry, you are brilliant.” She
gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Get on with you, as my friend would
say.”

“I’ll see you on Saturday for rehearsal,
Sophie-girl.”

She smiled absently at Henry, who slipped
away, nodding at Riley as he passed him.

For a moment, Riley still didn’t move and
Sophie couldn’t help staring. Then, she swallowed the uneasy
feeling as they walked toward each other through the crowd of
revelers. For Sophie, everyone else practically disappeared.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
How
could her voice sound that normal?

“I know.” He had the grace to look ashamed.
“I would have come earlier, but we had an emergency at the
hospital.”

She nodded. “There’s still plenty of food,
and you’re welcome to it. Let me get you a plate.”

He put his hand on her arm to stop her, and
she jumped at his touch, looking first at his large hand on her
emerald green sleeve and then back to his face, more chiseled than
she remembered.

“I didn’t come to eat. I came to see you,” he
said quietly.

She shivered. “Well, you can do both. Eat and
talk to me.”

She noticed then the dark circles under his
eyes and even that he had a hollowed look under his cheekbones.
“You rather look as though you could use a good meal.”

“I’m just tired,” he said.

She wanted to strike him for his treatment of
her, but she also wanted to kiss him. More than either, she wanted
to take care of him, so forlorn and weary did he seem.

“Riley, sit down and I’ll fill you up a
plate. Look, there’s a quiet spot.” She pointed to the other end of
The Grill, where two tables stood against the wall, empty but still
littered with the remains of the Thanksgiving feast. Everyone else
now stood in the center of the room or sat at tables pulled closely
together.

He seemed to hesitate but then complied; she
moved as fast as possible to the kitchen and filled him a plate,
worried that he would be gone when she returned.

As she hurriedly reentered the dining room,
she nearly ran into Carling.

“Sorry,” Carling said, “were you looking for
me?” Sophie noticed her hair was disheveled.

“Where were you . . . and Egbert?”

Carling blushed fiercely. “Oh, well . . .”
she trailed off, then noticed the plate.

“Still hungry?”

“No, it’s for Riley.” Sophie nodded her head
to where he sat, his back against the wall, his head resting on the
wall, too, his eyes closed.

“What in blue blazes is he doing here?”
Carling had been almost as upset by his disappearance as
Sophie.

“I don’t know yet, but I intend to find
out.”

She started to move away and Carling added,
“You let me know if you need help. I can give a good swift kick
when necessary.”

Sophie half-smiled. “I hope that won’t be
required, but I’ll keep it in mind.” Her smiled had died entirely
by the time she reached him.

Riley looked as though he’d already been
kicked. She stood at the table, watching him, his eyes still shut,
breathing evenly. He might be asleep. She plunked the plate down in
front of him and his eyelids snapped open. He sat upright with a
start but didn’t immediately look at the food. Instead, his gaze
locked on her.

“Will you sit with me?” he asked.

She sat.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Hm,” she murmured noncommittally.

“How are your rehearsals?”

“Good. Performances, even better,” she
said.

He picked up the fork then and took a bite of
mashed potatoes. He swallowed like a man who hadn’t eaten well for
a while, savoring the taste and going back for more. He ate all the
potato in silence and then the pigeon pie. When that was done, he
put the fork down.

Sophie watched him, feeling as though she’d
be content to sit with him in silence forever, but she knew she
couldn’t.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He stared at his plate. “I shouldn’t have
told you that I loved you.”

Instantly, she could barely breathe. His
words were like a knife in her side.

“Because you don’t?”

Hesitation. “No,” he said, cutting
deeper.

She lowered her eyes to her hands in her lap.
Tears were pricking already, but she was damned if she’d let them
fall.

“Why did you, then?” Her voice came out in a
gruff whisper.

“I wanted to spend time with you.” He didn’t
say anything more for a moment.

She blinked again and, finally, she was able
to look up at him. He seemed to be about to take her hand, but he
stopped himself. “But I know you would have wanted more than I can
give you. I’ve had a fiancée for a long time. I just want to be
free now.”

Was it possible she could feel her blood
turning colder? For it seemed that her fingertips were suddenly
chilled and then she felt shaky all over. But she had to speak to
him levelly, as though her heart weren’t shearing in two.

“You didn’t have to lie to me, Riley. I was
content to spend time with you.” Perhaps he would grow to love her.
“I still am.”

She’d done it, offering her heart to him,
asking only for the gift of more time together.

He looked away, then back quickly, holding
her gaze with his tawny brown one. “Are you supremely happy?”

“What do you mean?” At this moment, she felt
anything but happiness.

“Being in the symphony and living in San
Francisco.”

Just hearing the words “being in the
symphony” still excited her. “Why, yes. It’s everything I ever
dreamed.”

He nodded slowly. “That’s good. That’s what I
thought you’d say and I’m glad for you, Sophie.”

He didn’t sound glad. She reached out and
touched his arm and he jumped. Then he grabbed her hand and clamped
it down on his arm, so she couldn’t take it away. “I came to tell
you goodbye.”

She didn’t know what to say.

“But I can’t do it at this table.” He stood
up abruptly and took her with him, out the side door into the
hallway of The Grand and then beyond. He was moving fast, dragging
her along behind him.

“Riley, stop.” He did, but he didn’t look at
her; he was looking wildly around, searching.

“In here,” she said, pulling him toward the
employees’ coat room.

*****

Why did he hunger to be alone with her, even
now, when he knew he had to be a wretched vile rogue and make her
cut him from her life—and her heart—completely?

Once inside, he pressed her back against the
door, his face close to hers. She looked so kissable, and despite
everything he’d said to her he ached to kiss her.

“I can’t see you anymore,” he said.

“You don’t have to love me,” she whispered,
then looked ashamed. It broke his heart. She believed that he
didn’t love her. That
was
the point, after all. But she had
to know how wonderful she was.

“Don’t say that,” he said harshly. “Any man
would be lucky to have you and to love you.”

“But not you,” her voice trembled slightly.
God, this was agony!
He’d had nearly the same conversation
with Eliza but for a vastly different reason and with opposite
results.

He had to answer her: “No, not me.”

Sophie closed her eyes, her beautiful, dark,
shining eyes, but not before he saw her pain, mirroring his own.
Lightly, he touched her chin, tilting her face toward his. She
opened her eyes as his mouth came down on hers. As soon as he felt
her lips, he faltered. She was so warm, so easy to love. She was
his woman, his Sophie.
Damn!
He ground hard against her
lips, demanding she open her mouth for his tongue. He forced the
warmth encircling his heart to turn to pure heat that tugged at his
groin. With his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her up against
him, crushing her to him.

He felt angry. Not at her. Not even at
himself. But why had he been given this incredible creature to love
in a lifetime when loving her would mean destroying her dreams? At
the very moment in time when he must start fulfilling his lifelong
promise to the man to whom he owed everything, she was starting a
career that promised to be dazzling, fulfilling,
spectacular—exactly what she deserved.

Of their own accord, his hands were moving
down her body, grasping, kneading, holding her firmly against him,
his hips pressing into hers. It took a few moments for him to
realize that she was struggling to break free from his punishing
kiss and the brutal onslaught that accompanied it.

“Riley?” Her voice reached him, a little
scared, confused, heartbroken. He was making it worse; he had to
get it over with.

“We can do this, here, now,” he said, hearing
his own voice low and raspy. “Is that what you want? With a man who
doesn’t love you?

She felt as though he’d slapped her and in
return, she raised her palm and struck him across the cheek. Then
she gasped and buried her face in her hands.
Why was he being so
horrible?
This wasn’t her Riley.

Slowly, he released her and moved around her
to the door. She felt his hand on her hair, stroking it ever so
lightly.

“Good bye, Sophie Malloy. I will always
remember you.”

Just like that, he was gone. She burst into
tears, sinking down onto the floor, and sobbing. She couldn’t catch
her breath for crying so hard, couldn’t imagine ever moving from
that spot, couldn’t think beyond the last terrible moments. She had
believed Philip loved her and had been surprised when he’d cast her
off. Now, Riley. This hurt so much more. She knew why—because her
whole heart loved Riley dearly, unlike the comfortable affection
she’d felt for Philip. This was passion—pure, devoted love—and it
seemed impossibly cruel that it was one-sided.

After a few minutes, she quietened, trying to
breathe deeply and evenly. Grabbing at the hem of the nearest coat,
Sophie used it to wipe her face.

Damn him to hell, she thought. Then she got
off the floor.
Damn him and damn her, too.

*****

The applause was deafening. It had been an
absolutely successful night, and Sophie felt her heart grow lighter
for the first time in weeks. She would be on a train soon, going
home to see her family and she could hardly wait.

It had been impossible to put Riley out of
her mind as easily as he’d cut her out of his life, even though
she’d spent less time
with
him than without him, and even
less time thinking they had a chance together. Still, she’d
believed they had an uncanny bond, a deep understanding, and now,
she felt forsaken.

Try as she might, her music career no long
filled her with the utmost joy. It was her sole source of pleasure,
but it was no longer nearly effortless. It was bloody hard
work—hard to focus, hard to memorize, hard to even play the right
notes consistently. And it took all of her remaining concentration
to follow Henry and make sure she didn’t let down the other
musicians. For that, Sophie felt a spark of anger toward Riley.