An Irresistible Temptation (13 page)

She didn’t appreciate the tone of his voice.
She was not a child. “I ought to be able to walk around this city,
like anyone else,” she said mulishly. “That man with the gold
tooth—”

“Gold tooth! Damnation, Sophie. You’re
talking about Carlos Perez Alonso.”

“And how would you know?” She had a
disturbing image of him lying back on the brothel table with one of
the red-jacketed women draped over him, long legs in black
stockings wrapped around his lean hips.

“He’s as infamous as his Dew Drop Inn.”

“Have
you
ever been there?”

His eyebrows shot up and he looked like
thunder. “That’s beside the point. Do you realize you could have
disappeared, never to be seen again?”

She did, in fact, have that realization, and
it scared her to death, but she wasn’t letting Riley know it.
“Carling wouldn’t let that happen.”

He swore again and ran a hand over his eyes.
She thought it was shaking slightly.

“Riley, I know now that I shouldn’t have gone
to the Barbary Coast, and I won’t go again.”

He looked at her with a level gaze.

“At least, not without a male escort,” she
added truthfully.

He flushed red, apparently angry once more.
“What? No, you ridiculous woman. You will never go there again.
Ever!”

“I only wanted to . . . to hear the music
you’d mentioned.” She tried a winning smile, but he didn’t thaw.
“And I wanted to experience a bit of the excitement.”

His nostrils flared a moment and she watched
his jaw working, until at last, he asked, “And did you?”

“I heard some dreadful music actually, and
then . . .” she trailed off, thinking of her “bit of
excitement.”

Riley brushed the wayward hair from her
forehead. She wanted to turn her cheek against his palm, wishing
that especially here, under these circumstances, his touch didn’t
affect her. She dragged her thoughts together into something
cohesive.

“I guess my purse is gone.” What had been in
it? Some cash, but not a lot, enough for a meal and cable car fare,
and her favorite ivory comb.

He shook his head. “You didn’t have it when
you arrived. Sophie, will you tell me what happened?”

She pursed her lips, feeling torn. “It will
most likely make you angry again.”

“Most likely,” he agreed. But this time he
gave her a wry smile.

“I wasn’t trying to go into the Dew Drop Inn.
We’d gone into some dance hall.” She watched him roll his eyes.
“And then into a gambling den, where a man, . . . well, never mind
that.” His jaw tightened once more. “Then I was pulled into that
horrible Dew Drop by Gold-Tooth . . . I mean, Carlos whatshisname,
and held against my will while he—”

“While he what?” If ever a man looked like he
was going to explode, it was Riley. She swallowed.

“While he offered me a job,” she mumbled,
mortified.

“Offered you a . . . I’ll fucking kill him.”
His voice was too loud and his eyes were blazing.

“Riley!” She was shocked beyond measure, not
only by his language, which was certainly not fitting a physician
in a hospital, but also by the vehemence of his words. “You’ll do
no such thing. Not on my account.”

She pictured the two large men who guarded
the gates of that particular hell. She’d better bring Riley back
around to medical matters before he decided to bring out his six
shooter.

“When can I leave?” She fluttered her
eyelashes, trying to distract him. He didn’t answer at first, but
slowly, he uncurled his fists.

“I know what you’re doing,” he ground out,
“so you can stop with the eyes. Do you have any idea how
dangerous—? I mean, of all the ludicrous, outrageous ideas—” He
didn’t seem able to finish a sentence, looking as though he could
throttle her at any moment.

“When will I be discharged?” Sophie tried
again, desperately wanting to move beyond her serious breach of
good judgment. Thank goodness she hadn’t mentioned the wine, or
Riley would be demanding she become a teetotaler.

She could see he was trying to regain his
composure by the way he closed his eyes and sighed. At last, he
looked at her.

“The ward doctor will come in and check you
over. Head injuries are considered serious stuff around here. I
would think, though, that tomorrow, or at the very latest, the next
day, you can be released.” He paused, then asked, “Do you live
alone?”

She stared hard at him, until he amended, “I
mean, no roommate, such as Miss Rilkers?”

“No.”

“Hm.” He looked worried.

“I’ll be fine. Next thing you’ll do is demand
I bring Sarah to San Francisco to cook for me.”

At last, he nodded. “That’s not a bad
idea.”

She made a face at him. “No. She already
thinks . . .,” she trailed off.

“Thinks what?”

Her cheeks flushed scarlet, remembering the
look on Sarah’s face when she caught them kissing. “Nothing. I just
can’t imagine she’s thinking too well of me at the moment.”

“You’re wrong, but no matter.” He frowned.
“I’ll look after you.”

She sighed with exasperation. “Yes, Riley,
why don’t you move in to my little set of rooms and wait on me hand
and foot. I’m sure that will be utterly acceptable to Eliza.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “You could
go back to Spring City or to Boston, until your hand heals.”

He would probably be married by the time she
got back. “Maybe. I think I’ll wait and talk to Carling.”

“She’s here somewhere. I’ll go find her.” He
hesitated. “Shall I send word to your family? Your brother,
perhaps, and Charlotte?”

“God no!” Reed would be on the next train and
he’d take her home whether she willed it or not. “I mean, I’ll send
them a telegram when I’m out of the hospital. I think I need to
rest now,” Sophie said, dismissing Riley because she felt close to
tears again at the thought of her hand. She had lost her livelihood
and her joy, and her respite from the world, all in one fell swoop.
Not to mention her purse.

He was looking at her so intently, she closed
her eyes, but as she did, the first tear rolled down her cheek.

“Sophie,” he murmured, “please don’t cry.”
She felt his lips brush against her forehead. He smelled so good,
like fresh vanilla, and she wished he could lie down next to her
and hold her. “Your fingers will heal quickly. I promise you.”

Her eyes popped open to see him still leaning
over her, as he stroked her tussled hair. “Can you truly promise me
that?”

“Yes,” Riley said, and the way his eyes bore
into hers, she decided to believe him. “I had better let you sleep
now.” But his gaze had moved down to her lips.

She couldn’t speak as she watched him lower
his head. Unable to stop herself, she curled her good arm around
his neck and waited for him to kiss her.

“Well, hello,” came Carling’s delighted
voice.

*****

He’d nearly kissed her.
Smack in the
middle of the women’s ward, with two nurses and a host of patients
and the possibility of an attending physician walking in at any
minute, and he’d nearly kissed her.

He took the steps in the stairwell two at a
time until he was outside in the fresh air. Damn! What was wrong
with him? He had never acted unprofessionally before. But his head
had been swimming ever since he’d walked into The Palace and seen
her. Like a miracle! He’d told himself it couldn’t possibly be
Sophie Malloy, but there she was. Then and there, he’d had to
reengage in the monumental battle with himself to keep his hands
off of her, to keep away from her entirely.

Then to see her in that hospital bed, pale
and unconscious, with her precious hand injured—he saw a haze of
red just thinking about it, feeling shaken by deep down tremors of
possessiveness and rage. He clenched his fists again. Thank the
good Lord she hadn’t been hurt worse, but at least he had a way to
vent his anger—all over Carlos Alonso’s face.

He headed for the cable car stop outside the
hospital. To find Sophie against all odds in San Francisco and then
to have her snatched away again by the likes of Alonso would have
sent him insane, he was sure of it, even if she could never be his.
As it was, it was going to be excruciating to leave her behind when
he graduated and left the city.
How was he going to do it?
He wasn’t sure he was strong enough. However, for Eliza’s sake and
for Sophie’s, when the time came, Heaven help him, he hoped he
was.

“You should be staying with me,” Carling
said, bringing Sophie over her evening meal for the third night in
a row.

“No, I’m all right. Except for taking forever
to dress, I can do almost everything myself,” Sophie assured her.
“I just wish I had something to do all day. I miss my career, such
as it was.”

“I can’t say the same,” Carling said and
laughed. “Though Egbert would miss me, I think.” She winked. “He’s
all worried about us living alone here after what happened to
you.”

Sophie didn’t want to admit to Carling that
she felt the same way as Egbert. She jumped at every noise now and
definitely didn’t want to go out at night. She was even worried for
Carling walking home two blocks.

“I’ve been on Russian Hill two years now,”
Carling said, hand on hip. “If some bloke comes near me, I’ll
clobber him.”

Sophie had no doubt Carling meant it, too,
and she had to remind herself that it was her own foolhardy idea to
venture to the Barbary Coast.

“So besides me, any other visitors?” Carling
asked, cleaning up the dishes.

Sophie blushed. She knew what her friend
meant. Carling had been teasing her mercilessly since coming upon
her and Riley in the hospital, and interrupting what surely would
have been a kiss.

“No one. Though Freddie Vern sent me a note
yesterday with some flowers and said he’d stop by this evening. In
all likelihood, he means to sack me in person.”

“He wouldn’t. He’s never had such a busy
bar.”

“Pshaw,” Sophie said. “People go for a drink,
don’t they, not for the music?”

“Well, not any music. I’m sure Mr. Vern—”

As if conjuring him, there was a knock on the
door. They looked at each other, eyes large until, with relief,
Carling ushered in Freddie.

“We were just talking about you,” Carling
offered, making Freddie redden.

“Oh, yes?” He eyed Sophie. “You don’t look as
bad as I expected.”

Sophie smiled. “What did you imagine? That
I’d be bandaged from head to foot?” Then she held up her hand.
“Isn’t this enough?”

He sobered. “Yes, it’s more than enough.” He
looked at Carling then back at Sophie. “I’m simply going to say
this, even in front of your friend. I don’t like the idea of your
living alone here. I’d like to offer you a room at The Grand.”

Sophie saw Carling’s jaw drop, mirroring her
own.

“I don’t understand,” Sophie said.

“Gratis, complimentary, free,” Freddie said,
coming forward and taking a seat. “The Grand has some rooms that
hardly ever get rented out. They’re smaller, at the back side of
the building, on the third floor. You can have one for free.”

“Until my hand is better?” Sophie asked.

“No, even after, until . . . until you don’t
need it anymore.”

“Get on with you,” Carling said, leaning her
chin on her hand. “Living at The Grand! What about me, then?”

“What
about
you?” Freddie shot her a
smile. “Are you my star piano player?”

“No, but I’m currently her best friend.”

He cocked his head. “Sorry, sweets. You’ll
have to ask someone at The Palace for a room.”

Carling made a face. “Phooey, they’re not
giving rooms away for free; I can tell you that. Not by half.”

Sophie had stayed silent. Did she want to
live at The Grand? She had learned that Riley lived near the
hospital, on Mission Street. She would be closer, but she brushed
that thought away. Obviously, when he married Eliza, it wouldn’t
matter how close she lived.

“Let me think about it, Freddie, will you?
I’m not sure. And I hate to leave Carling on the hill by
herself.”

Freddie shrugged. “I wish I could offer you
both something, but I can’t and the rooms are too small for two
beds. You can’t swing a cat in there.”

“The Palace doesn’t have any small rooms.
Only big ones and bigger ones,” Carling said dreamily. “Still, it’s
rather luxurious, I think, hotel living, even if it’s a small room
at The Grand.”

“I’m grateful, Freddie. I truly am. Just let
me consider.” Sophie frowned. “How are you managing at the bar?”
She had to ask.

“My cousin is filling in.”

A male pianist. What if he was more
respected? What if he played better than she did?

“Don’t worry,” Freddie added, seeing her
concern. “He knows two songs and they’re maudlin at best.”

“Ooh, that’ll drive customers away,” Carling
said. She looked at Sophie and winked. “Maybe you better ask for a
raise when you get back.”

What if she couldn’t go back?

“Hey, what’s that look for?” Carling
asked.

Sophie bit her lip. “What if my fingers don’t
work correctly again? I mean, I need to spread this wide,” she
said, holding up her other hand for them to see, “to reach across
an octave.”

“Your Riley said you’d be fine, didn’t
he?”

My Riley. Eliza’s Riley.

“
Your
Riley?” asked Freddie, eyes
narrowing. “Who’s that?”

“She means the doctor,” Sophie put in. She
knew that men could be strange and competitive, for no reason at
all. And she didn’t want Freddie to withdraw his offer before she
even had a chance to accept it. “How long will you hold my
position?”

“Don’t worry about that, sweets. Just get
better. And let me know if you want the room. Remember, it’s tiny,
but you won’t have to worry about rent while you can’t work.”
Freddie got up and went to the door. “Righty-o. I won’t keep you
ladies.”