A Taste of Paradise (38 page)

Chris would be eternally grateful for the full moon. It shed enough light for him to avoid the pitfalls in the rutted road. He passed through a small village, pushing his horse to its limit. Nevertheless, it took more than an hour for Chris to locate the narrow lane leading to the cottage Caldwell had described.

Sophia knew the moon had risen, for ribbons of light streamed through the slats of the shuttered window. She had heard nothing from Rigby in a long time and hoped she had done him permanent damage. Her hopes were dashed when she heard movement in the main part of the cottage.

Stumbling in the darkness, she had searched the room for a weapon. There was no pitcher, no bowl, nothing with which to inflict damage. She had only her wits to rely upon. She watched the door with growing apprehension. Rigby was a strong man. It wouldn't take much for him to subdue her.

Revealing her delicate condition hadn't deterred him, nor had it dampened his enthusiasm for assaulting her. Rigby was bent on revenge. Was there some way she could hurt him again? Unfortunately, he would be more alert to her tricks now and less likely to succumb.

Sophia heard the key turn in the lock and the door-knob rattle, and braced herself. Frantic, her gaze flew from one dark corner of the room to the other, searching for nonexistent help.

A sense of self-preservation told Sophia to flatten herself against the wall behind the door. The door opened. Muted light spilled through the opening. Rigby entered the room; he carried a coiled rope over his arm.

“Where are you?” Rigby bellowed, blinking in the darkness. He advanced into the room. “Don't think you can hide from me. This time I'm going to tie you to the bedposts and spend the remainder of the night taking my pleasure from you.”

His back was turned to her. Sophia knew that if she hesitated she'd be lost. Holding her breath, she eased around the open door and out of the room. Her first thought was to flee into the night. But hard on the heels of that thought came another. Spinning around, she slammed the door and turned the key in the lock, imprisoning Rigby inside.

“No! Bitch! Stupid bitch,” Rigby screamed. He began pounding on the door. Sophia backed away. Was he strong enough to batter the door down? Quite possibly he was. As Rigby cursed and kicked the door, Sophia fled. She had no idea where she was or in which direction to run, but she knew she had to get as far away from the cottage as possible.

Sophia ran down the lane, halting when she reached the road. She looked both ways, trying to decide which way to turn. Just then she heard hoofbeats pounding toward her and wondered if she should flee or wait for the horse and rider and plead for help. It wouldn't take long for a man Rigby's size and girth to kick down the door. He might already be free and closing in on her.

Her gut told her to wait for the rider and ask for help. Nothing could be worse than falling into Rigby's hands again.

Sophia hovered in the shadows at the side of the road as the horse and rider approached. The horse slowed as it approached the lane leading to the cottage. She stepped from the shadows and waved her arms.

Chris pulled on the reins. Frightened, Atlas reared. Chris brought him under control and leaped from the saddle.

“Sophia! Is that you? Thank God.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her so tightly, Sophia feared her ribs would crack. But she didn't complain. Her prayers had been answered. Chris cared for her enough to come to her rescue.

“Where is Rigby?” Chris asked. “How did you escape?”

“Please take me away from here. I'll explain later.”

Chris lifted her onto Atlas's back and mounted behind her. Then he reined his mount back toward London. Sophia leaned against his solid, comforting form, too happy to break the silence. She was free of Rigby and in Chris's arms, exactly where she wanted to be. The tension of the past few hours caught up with her. She rested her head against Chris's chest and fell asleep.

Sophia didn't awaken until she felt herself being lifted from the saddle. She opened her eyes. “Where are we? We couldn't have reached London already.”

“We're stopping at an inn. You can't go on, you're exhausted, and I need to find a constable. I'm not about to let Rigby get away with kidnapping you. Can you walk?”

“Of course, put me down.”

He eased her onto her feet and, keeping his arm about her waist, conducted her into the inn. The innkeeper met them at the door.

“We'd like your best room,” Chris said in a commanding voice, “and a bath for my wife and supper for two.”

The innkeeper sized Chris up, came to a conclusion and grinned. “Immediately, sir, whatever you wish.” He plucked a key from a drawer and picked up a candlestick. “Please follow me.”

Chris's hold tightened on Sophia as they followed the innkeeper up the stairs. The innkeeper unlocked the door, entered ahead of them and set down the candlestick.

“This is our finest room,” he said proudly. “I'll order the bath and send up a maid to start a fire in the grate to take the chill off the room. Meanwhile, I'll set my wife to cooking your supper. She's an excellent cook. I think you'll be pleased.”

“Thank you. The room is better than I expected for such a small village.”

Beaming, the innkeeper bowed himself out of the room.

Chris led Sophia to a chair and knelt before her. “I want to know what that bastard did to you before I find the constable.”

Sophia twisted her fingers in her lap. “He didn't touch me. When he tried, I kicked him.”

A laugh gurgled in Chris's throat. “You kicked him? Where?”

Sophia sent him an answering grin. “Where it hurt him the most. Then he locked me in the bedroom and threatened to return with a rope.”

“You kicked him in the balls?”

Her smile widened. “Twice. He was limping when he left the room and didn't return for a long time.”

Chris sobered. “But he did return.”

Sophia nodded. “He returned with a rope in his hands and vengeance in his heart.”

“Dear God, how did you escape him?” He searched her face, saw the purple bruise on her cheek and cursed. “He hurt you!”

Her hand flew to her cheek. “Not too badly. He—”

A knock interrupted their conversation. Chris went to the door, admitting the maid who had been sent to build a fire in the hearth. When flames danced merrily in the grate, the maid bobbed a curtsy and left. Chris returned to Sophia's side and crouched before her.

“Tell me what Rigby did to you.”

“He slapped me—nothing more.”

Chris visibly relaxed. “How did you escape? You said he returned to the bedroom with a rope.”

“It was quite simple, really. I hid behind the door. The room was dark and he didn't see me. When he charged deeper into the room, I slipped out the door and locked him inside. He couldn't get out without breaking the door down. I didn't wait around to find out if he succeeded. I turned and fled.”

Chris gave her a hug. “You're amazing. I raced to your rescue only to find you'd rescued yourself. Your courage is one of the reasons I love you.”

“What? What did you say?”

A very unwelcome knock forestalled Chris's reply. “Later,” he said. “That will be your bath.”

He opened the door to servants bearing a tub and buckets of hot and cold water. “Enjoy your bath, my love. I'm going to rouse the constable from his bed and explain the situation. With any luck, Rigby will rot in Newgate for what he's done this night.”

Sophia watched the man she loved leave the room. This time, however, she knew he would return and they would be together forever. She smiled dreamily as the maid removed her cloak, helped her to undress and climb into the tub. She dismissed the girl, sank down into the water and closed her eyes.

Chris loved her
. She had heard him say the words. She hadn't been dreaming. The words still rang in her ears.
I love you.
No words had ever sounded sweeter. Her ordeal with Rigby faded from her memory, replaced by Chris's tender gaze as he'd spoken the words she had waited forever to hear.

The door opened. Chris stepped into the room. “Still soaking in the tub?”

“Hand me the towel and I'll get out.”

Chris found the towel on a bench near the blazing fire and held it out for Sophia to step into. She walked into his arms and felt the warm towel surround her. He dried her with loving hands, then carried her to the bed and placed her beneath the covers.

“I'll bathe while we wait for supper.”

He undressed, eased into the tub and washed quickly. Sophia watched him, a half smile curving her lips. No man should be that good to look at. His firm, tanned flesh held her spellbound. An aura of power, sexuality, confidence and virility surrounded him.

His eyes smoldering, Chris said, “Keep looking at me like that and we'll never get to our supper.”

Sophia was about to say she didn't care about supper when someone rapped on the door. “That must be our food,” Chris said as he stepped out of the water, quickly dried himself and pulled on his trousers.

Sophia dragged the sheet up to her neck as Chris admitted the innkeeper.

“Just set the tray on the table,” Chris instructed.

The innkeeper did as Chris directed and left. Wrapping herself in a sheet, Sophia sat down in the chair Chris held out for her. They both ate heartily of potato soup, delicate white fish, plump sausages and slices of freshly baked bread dripping with butter. They washed it all down with a decent red wine. For dessert, the innkeeper had provided juicy fruit tarts.

“Did you find the constable?” Sophia asked after she had eaten her fill.

“He wasn't too happy to be roused from his bed, but he promised to gather some men and take Rigby into custody.”

Sophia merely nodded. Rigby was no longer her problem. He had done his worst and failed. Nothing mattered now but Chris, her unborn child and their future as a family. It was time to tell Chris he was going to be a father.

Chris's eyes darkened with desire, his voice husky as he asked, “Have you finished eating, love?” Sophia nodded. “I'll tuck you into bed. You've been through a lot today.”

“Christian Radcliff!” Sophia scolded as she rose to her feet and faced him squarely. “You finally tell me you love me and expect me to sleep? Oh, no, you don't. You're not getting off that easily.”

Chris's eyes twinkled. “I thought you were tired.”

“You thought wrong. Do you know how long I've loved you?”

“No, tell me.”

“Practically forever. I fell in love with you the day we met at my debut.”

“I've loved you almost as long,” Chris admitted. “You broke my heart when you chose Desmond. I understand the reason now, but I didn't then. For years I refused to speak your name. I didn't even want to think about you, for when I did, overwhelming guilt over Desmond's death plunged me into the deepest hell.”

Sophia sighed. “We need to bury the past if we are to survive as a family.”

Chris pulled her into his arms. “I already have. I realize now that I can't live in the past forever. The future awaits us, my love. Shall we embrace it together?”

“Oh, yes. Kiss me, Chris.”

His kiss was long, hard and hungry, and she reveled in his unspoken demands. He pulled the sheet away from her, baring her flesh to his sensual touch. His hands roamed freely, exploring the curves and valleys of her voluptuous body, eliciting sighs and moans of pleasure.

“I don't know what you've been doing, but I love your new curves,” Chris whispered into her ear. He tweaked her nipple. “Your breasts are magnificent.”

He swept her into his arms and placed her on the bed, following her down. He showed her just how much he loved her breasts by pressing sweet kisses upon them and laving her nipples with his tongue. A whimper escaped her when his hand searched lower, the pad of his thumb finding the sensitive nub nestled between her feminine folds.

Sophia cried out, arching up against him, her body aching for more. He played with her, lowering his head and using his tongue to lap her with languid strokes, then thrusting his fingers inside her. Shuddering violently, Sophia quickly approached the point of no return. He must have sensed her imminent surrender, for he rose up and planted frantic kisses on her mouth. She kissed him back, hungrily, drawing his tongue into her mouth, sliding hers along it.

With a deep groan of pleasure, he stroked a hand over her belly. Suddenly he paused and raised his head, his blue eyes staring intently into hers.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Sophia?”

“Not now,” Sophia panted. “Please, Chris, I want you. Don't make me wait.”

Chris stared at her a moment longer, then nodded. “Very well, my sweet, but we
will
have this conversation.”

His hands continued their journey down her stomach, making her skin quiver. He slid his hand between her thighs to her sweet center. His fingers came away wet.

“It's time, love.”

“Way past time,” Sophia whispered. “Come inside me. I don't want to wait any longer.”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Do you wish to be on top?”

“Oh, yes!”

He slid his hands beneath her and lifted her astride him. “Take me, Sophia. Ride me. I am yours to do with as you please.”

Instead of taking him inside her immediately, she slid down his legs, curled her hand around his thick length and stroked up and down. He groaned a deep, raw sound and thrust himself upward into her hand. Again and again she stroked the thick length of his erection, awed by the silky, warm weight of him and the raw, unleashed power she held in her hand.

Then she bent her head and ran her tongue along his pulsing cock, up one side, over the throbbing head and down the other side. He lurched violently when she took him into her mouth. Paying him no heed, she tormented him mercilessly with her tongue and teeth, nipping and laving until he gave a roar and pulled her up and over him. Then abruptly he rolled, trapping her beneath him. He crouched over her, his eyes dark with untamed desire. Looking deep into her eyes, he lifted her legs over his shoulders and sheathed himself inside her.