After Innocence (45 page)

She rushed into the master bath, throwing the bedspread down. She snatched the long paisley robe from the hook where it hung on the door, pulled it on. Too late, she realized it was a man’s robe—that it was his. His scent was unmistakable. Gritting her teeth, acutely aware of the silk teasing her mostly bare skin, she ran out of the bedroom. In the salon she skidded to a stop.

Edward stood staring out the window at Central Park, his back to her. Behind him, the oval dining room table was set with a breakfast that could feed a king. No—four kings. Tantalizing smells came from several covered platters that undoubtedly hid bacon, eggs, sausages, and steaks. Cold platters of smoked salmon and whitefish, of hams and cheeses, of various fruits and baskets of pastries, covered every other available inch of space. Except for the two china and silver place settings. And Edana and Rachelle were nowhere in sight.

Sofie found her voice. “Where is Edana?”

“I told Rachelle to take her to the park.”

She bristled. “You what?”

He turned to face her and repeated what he had said.

“And Rachelle left me here alone, asleep, with you?!”

He stared at her. “It’s my suite.”

She inhaled. “Is that the way it’s going to be?”

His gaze was unfathomable now. “My room is barely big enough to hold a bed, and I certainly did not feel like having my breakfast there. I thought you’d be hungry, too. I’ve been waiting for over an hour for you to wake up. I finally decided to see if you were even alive. It’s not my fault you were sleeping in a wisp of cotton that hides absolutely nothing.”

She folded her arms across her breasts, quite certain he was remembering how she had looked in her ancient, threadbare chemise. “I can assure you,” she said acidly, “if I had known you would come into my bedroom, I would have worn a monk’s robes.”

His eyes narrowed. “Really?”

She did not like the interest she saw there, for somehow, she had kindled it anew. Or it had never died, and he failed to hide it now. She stepped backwards. “Yes.”

“How quickly we forget last night,” he murmured. “You still have that scrap of cotton on?”

Sofie began to move steadily backwards. “Edward, it was very thoughtful of you to order breakfast, and of course, I understand that you would rather eat here than in your room. You have every right to take your meals here! I will go and get dressed. You may start without me.”

His smile flashed. It was one hundred percent wicked, the dimples deep and damnably attractive. “Somehow what I ordered just doesn’t seem appetizing anymore.”

Sofie turned to flee, but Edward’s hand clamped on her shoulder and he spun her back around. Sofie found herself an inch away from being in his arms. “You look good enough to eat,” he said softly as he pulled her slowly forward.

Sofie stiffened, finding it difficult to breathe, to think. She whimpered as his hands slid over her back and down her backside. “I have no intention of being your breakfast,” she whispered.

“Why not?” he whispered, his mouth very close to hers. Sofie whimpered again as he pressed forward until their loins touched. He was erect, hot and huge and quiveringly erect. “Why the hell not?” he whispered against her mouth.

Sofie tried to find words, tried to think of why she
should not make love with him. Her heart, she finally remembered. She was trying to protect her heart. “Don’t, Edward. Please.”

But he ignored her. “I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured, leaning over her, “and we
both
know you’re going to like it.”

S
ofie shook her head in denial. Their gazes fused. She heard herself whimper when he slowly slid his arm around her, pulling her up even more firmly against his body. She pressed her hands against his chest, but it was only a feeble gesture—she could not make herself push away from him with any teal effort.

If only she did not love this man. Then maybe she would not want to melt into his body so badly. Then maybe there would not be the burning red-hot urgency, the sheer, insane desire.

Edward’s mouth brushed hers. It was a deliberately teasing action, and Sofie gasped. “You feel the way I do,” he said, the sound undisguised, raw in both lust and triumph. His eyes blazed. “I can see it in your eyes—feel it in your body.”

“No!” Sofie managed to lie, frantic now, for she knew he was going to kiss her, just as she knew he was expertly seducing her, and that wounded part of her was terrified. He would hurt her again—and she could not possibly survive another blow from him.

“Yes,” he whispered, smiling slightly and slowly rubbing his hardened loins against her. His hands moved up her rib cage, over the silk robe, cupping her aching, swollen breasts. “Oh, God, Sofie.”

And Sofie knew that he was thinking, as she was, about what it would be like when he pushed his way deep inside her. She felt faint, even dizzy. She was acutely aware of the hot, rigid muscle pulsing against her moist, clefted flesh. Acutely aware of his fingers plucking her enlarged nipples
through both cotton and silk, and of his warm, uneven breath feathering her lips.

Sofie moaned.

Edward made a harsh sound and bent her over backwards. His mouth covered hers.

And then there was nothing in existence except for his mouth on hers and his hard body shuddering against her. Sofie gave up. She opened, she clung. Instantly the kiss changed, became a greedy, devouring monster.

Sofie kissed him back, licking his lips. She nipped him. he sucked her. Her hands slid down and gripped his high, hard buttocks. She fought with and conquered his tongue. He massaged and molded her breasts with increasing urgency until her warm milk began to flow.

Sofie cried out, aware of her need for him growing into something insatiable and overpowering. Her hands slid to his hips, holding him firmly against her throbbing sex. Edward ripped open robe and chemise, the worn shift tearing with hardly a sound. Sofie gasped in exultant pleasure when his lips claimed one of her taut, aching nipples. Sobbing, she threw back her head as he suckled.

And then she could stand it no more. Desire exploded inside Sofie and became madness. Her hands slid over the massive bulge behind the fly of his trousers. Shaking, frantic, determined, she followed his shape and molded his form. Edward gasped, tearing his mouth from her breast. An instant later she was in his arms and he was running into the master bedroom. He kicked the door closed. Still carrying her, he moved onto the bed, coming down on top of her.

And nothing mattered except this. Sofie spread her knees and hooked her ankles around his hips. Edward ripped open his fly. For one shocking instant they looked into each other’s eyes. Then he was on her, impaling her fully.

Sofie clung to his shoulders, rocking her hips wildly, crying, “Yes, Edward, yes!” Her nails dug into his back. For a moment he had frozen, but now he responded to her frantic urging and began to move hard and fast. Sofie had one coherent thought—she loved this man, she always would. An instant later she was swept upwards into a
spiraling, red-hot, maniacal vortex, and she shattered in mindless ecstasy.

When she opened her eyes, panting uncontrollably, she met Edward’s wide, wild gaze. He was not moving, but he was still full and hard inside her. When their gazes met, something tierce flared in his. Instantly Edward’s mouth came down on hers for a long, intimate kiss. His raised his head, looked her piercingly in the eye. “Sofie.”

And then he began to stroke her, harder and faster now than before. Despite having just reached a stunning peak, Sorie’s blood surged yet again. Edward wrapped his arms around her, sinking deep one last time. He cried out. shuddering, his face buried in the hollow of her neck and shoulder.

Sofie slid her hand down his back, closing her eyes, exulting in the feel of him. Her heart still beat like a wild, trapped bird, and his pounded even more forcefully against her breast. Sofie did not want to think. She pressed her cheek to his. Being with him like this was bittersweet.

Edward stirred. Sofie dared not move, afraid of what might happen next. Dear God, they were strangers now. What had happened should have never been—yet it had been so right. What would they say to each other now? Hello? Good-bye? That was very nice, thank you?

She blinked back hot tears.

Edward shifted onto his side, keeping one strong arm around her, so that she was nestled against his side. Sofie was afraid to look at him, but was relieved he had not pushed her away. She tensed when his hand stroked over her shoulder and down her arm. A moment later she felt him exploring her waist, her abdomen.

She could not avoid him for much longer and she opened her eyes, looking up at his face. She did not know what she expected to see, perhaps insolent male arrogance, but he was very solemn, almost grim. She was stricken. Did he regret their encounter?

She could handle almost anything, the past two years had proved that—but not his regret for such splendid, abandoned passion.

“I didn’t come here for this,” Edward said.

Sofie choked. Before, she wouldn’t have believed him, but now, looking into his eyes, she did.

“It just happened,” Edward said, his hand lying still and motionless on her stomach. “I won’t apologize.”

Sofie stared at his large, tanned hand, sprawled on her white, flat belly just below her navel, only inches from the nest of hair that shielded her femininity. Sofie extricated herself from his arm and sat up, pulling his robe closed around her. “I d-didn’t ask for an apology.”

A muscle in Edward’s cheek flexed. He also sat up, shoving his shirt into his trousers and buttoning his fly. “It’s very good between us, Sofie.”

She averted her gaze, trying not to be hurt by his words, certain he did not mean to hurt her now. But she would have never categorized their lovemaking as “very good.” Superb, glorious, unforgettable, yes, but not “very good.” He seemed to expect a response, so she murmured, “Yes.”

“Why are you so skinny?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’ve had a child. But you’re thinner than you were when we met. You don’t eat, do you?”

She was stiff with wariness. She chose her words with care. “It is not easy, right now. I never get a full night’s sleep—a child is a lot of work, even with Rachelle’s help. And … I have been worried. I have not had an appetite.”

His gaze darkened. “But you’re nursing Edana.”

She flushed, thinking not about Edana, but about how Edward had suckled her breasts. “Of course.”

Edward slid from the bed, hands in his pockets, his back to her. He stared out the window. Outside, it had started to snow. “There’s no need for you to worry anymore, you know that.”

Sofie wished that she could see his face. “What are you saying, Edward?”

He turned, fierce. “Edana is my daughter. You are her mother. That gives me certain rights. Supporting her—and you—is one of them.”

She swallowed, aching for his love. “And is using my body another one of them?”

He jerked. “Honey, you used me as much as I used you!”

Sofie folded her arms, incapable of responding.

But Edward was angry now, and not to be stopped. “I don’t think I’ve ever been with such a hot, eager woman.”

Sofie pursed her mouth. What could she say? That the lust she felt for him was fueled by the love she felt for him? That she would probably grow old and gray still aching for him?

Edward’s gaze lurched down to her heaving breasts. “No—I know I’ve never been with such a hot woman before.”

“Stop it.”

“You’ve had good teachers, Sofie.”

“You were my teacher.”

He laughed. “That was a long time ago. You were a virgin then, not a seductress.”

“Stop it. Please.”

“Why? Because the truth is ugly? Because you can’t reconcile it with your proper facade?” His eyes blazed. “Does Henry know how hot you are? Does he know firsthand?”

“Stop it!” Sofie screamed.

“No!” Edward shouted back. Sofie froze. “No!” He shouted again, and his hand lashed out, sweeping every single item on the bureau beside him to the floor. Glass bottles and porcelain bowls broke and shattered.

Sofie gripped the bedding, beginning to shake with fear.

Edward paced towards her, explosive rage in his every stride, then halted. “Are you going to see him tonight?” he snarled.

She stared at him, too frightened to respond.

“Are you?” he shouted, livid.

“No,” Sofie whispered. “I mean, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know!” He turned and sent his fist into a beautiful blue and white Oriental lamp and sent it crashing to the floor.

Sofie inched back against the headboard of the bed.

“Are you going to marry him?” he roared.

Sofie knew better than to answer him. Tears streamed down her face.

Edward cursed. He slammed to the bureau and pulled out one of the drawers so hard that it crashed to the floor. He straightened, holding a square blue velvet box, then kicked the drawer out of his way. He approached Sofie, throwing the box at her. It hit her knees. “Open it!”

She looked at the box, lying by her feet, afraid to touch it, afraid of what she would see.

“Open it, damn you!” he roared.

Whimpering, Sofie knelt and reached for me box. Her heart turned over hard. Inside was a pair of magnificent chandelier earrings, the stones diamonds, worth a fortune by itself. But also inside was a triple-tiered matching necklace, and a diamond solitaire ring. The ring alone boasted a stone that was at least eight carats. It was an engagement ring.

“That’s what I can give you,” Edward said harshly.

Sofie blinked at him, helplessly holding the open box in her hands, not knowing what to do with it—or him.

“Isn’t that enough for you?” His tone shot up again. “Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what all women want?” Edward shouted. “Or do you still want to marry Henry Marten?”

His face was flushed red with his rage. “I never said I wanted to marry Henry,” she whispered, her voice almost inaudible.

But Edward was too furious to hear her. He strode to the wall, jerked a small painting—a beautiful David—from its hook, revealing a safe. His fingers twirled the lock. The iron door slammed open. He faced her, one hand fisted. “Still thinking about marrying Henry?” he asked. He flung the contents of his hand at her.