After Innocence (52 page)

Sofie stared at him, her heart thundering in her ears, stupefied.

He stepped out of his drawers. He was six feet four inches of superbly sculpted muscle, firm flesh and hard bone. “And you love me, don’t you?”

She inhaled. No sight was as superb as Edward nude and ready to love her—no sight. And no moment was as glorious as this moment of confession. Sofie realized that she was crying.

Edward came onto the bed, pulling her forward and into a tender embrace. “Why are you crying? And why, dear God, have you been fighting me for so very long?”

Sofie shook her head, unable to speak, sobbing and clinging. Finally she whispered, “I was afraid. Because I’ve loved you so much for so long.”

He wasn’t smiling and their gazes locked.

She opened her mouth to tell him again that she loved him, that she always had and always would. But she was cut off by his deep, urgent, openmouthed kiss. His tongue entered her as if he was striving to plumb the very depths of her soul.

Edward pushed her backwards onto the bed, coming down on top of her, holding her tight, devouring her mouth. Sometime later he lifted his head, smiling slightly, eyes smoking and hot. “Later,” he said harshly, his fingers in her hair, pulling out the pins, “later we’ll talk.”

Sofie did not move—could not move—as Edward freed her tresses and allowed her hair to cascade around them. A dimple flashed, dug deep, his mouth in a wicked curve. His eyes were bright with carnal promise; his hand slid up her thigh, under her skirts. “Now, get rid of these damn clothes, Sofie,” he ordered.

Sofie obeyed.

She lay naked and unmoving, not yet sated. She wondered if she would ever be sated.

Edward smiled at her, sitting on the bed by her side. He took the triple-tiered diamond necklace from the velvet box and leaned forward to place it on her neck. Sofie did not blush. She met Edward’s admiring gaze, watching his eyes turn black with desire as he clasped the dazzling strands of gems around her pale white throat.

He reached out and rubbed one of her nipples, already rosy and erect from their lovemaking, then pushed her hair behind her shoulders. He fastened each of the sparkling chandelier earrings to her lobes. “God, you are so beautiful.”

Sofie slanted a look at him, moving restlessly against the pillows, arching slightly beneath his questing gaze, feeling
every inch a seductress. Edward’s eyes smoked. His hand dropped to her neck, curving over the diamond necklace, then lower, curving over her full, aching breast.

“Every single one of those diamonds,” he whispered, “I dug up with my own two hands.”

Sofie looked at him, hips shifting, thighs parted. “Y-You’re not a smuggler of stolen gems?” she whispered breathlessly.

He laughed, too harshly for the sound to be mirth alone. “No. Hell no. That’s a myth.”

“I’m glad,” Sofie said, taking his hand and sliding it down her breast and to her abdomen. She was shameless, she did not care. “Even though there is something incredibly attractive about a man who dares to smuggle diamonds.” Their gazes fastened on each other.

Unsmiling, he slid his hand lower, palming her the way she wanted to be palmed. Sofie inhaled. “I’ll smuggle diamonds if you want me to, Sofie.” His eyes gleamed. “Tell me what you want.”

She shifted and moved restlessly beneath him. Thighs widened more. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

His thumb stroked the heavy seaming of her lips. “There?”

She nodded, arching slightly again, her full breasts glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, nipples pointed and painfully hard. The diamonds at her throat and ears caught the overhead lights and sparked with tire. Edward’s thumb slid inward, over slick, screamingly sensitive flesh. Sofie gasped, arching again—this time coming up off the bed.

He laughed, low and deep in his throat. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known,” he said harshly.

Sofie met his gaze, ripples of agonizing pleasure washing over her, threatening to crest to another crescendo, and quickly, and she knew it was true. “Edward, please.”

His hand had become still. His gaze was brilliant. “When I first met you, I wanted to do this. Dress you only in diamonds—my diamonds.”

She met his smoldering glance. “Yes.”

He lifted his other hand. It was listed. Sofie did not understand, then she whimpered a little as the first small
shower began. Opening his fist ever so slightly, he allowed dozens of diamonds of every imaginable size to trickle down onto her breasts. Sofie gasped, arching, nipples tightening. Some of the dazzling stones spilled lower, onto her torso, a few scattered onto the bed. His hand waved like a wand over her. More diamonds sifted down onto her abdomen, and then lower still, perilously low. Sofie stared at her breasts, where one very small stone glittered close to her engorged nipple, then at her belly, where sparkling gems were clustered around her navel. And lower still. The tawny thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs glistened with moisture, glittered with fire.

“I even imagined doing this,” Edward whispered, his gaze following the path of diamonds. So did his hand. Another fiery shower followed, and the last few tiny stones rained down on the swollen, throbbing folds of her sex.

Their gazes met.

“Everything I have is yours,” Edward said.

Sofie shifted to sit, shudders of desire wracking her body, reaching out. Edward came into her arms, his mouth taking hers, pushing her down and kneeing her thighs apart. As he moved on top of her, he thrust deep. Sofie cried out instantly as wave after wave of incredible, shattering, almost painful ecstasy crashed upon her. Edward drove hot and hard and huge, deeper still, gasping, arching, convulsing. “Everything,” he cried.

S
ofie smiled at Edward, and Edward smiled at her. They had re-dressed and were sitting snuggled up on the sofa in the salon, with Edana in Edward’s lap. Rachelle had claimed to have made a rendezvous and had long since gone. Sofie watched Edward playing with Edana, talking to her and making the kinds of funny faces babies so loved, her heart so swollen with love that it almost hurt.

Edward had not wanted to re-dress. He had ordered them a large supper and had wanted to eat it in bed. Sofie had refused. She had reminded him that their household consisted of four, not two. She could not imagine partaking of supper while nude in bed with Rachelle and Edana elsewhere in the suite. Edward had succumbed to her sensibility, but his look had promised her that one day they would do as he preferred. It was hard for Sofie to pretend to herself that she was unaffected by the notion.

Several knocks sounded on the door. Sofie restrained Edward from getting up. “Stay with Edana,” she said, smiling, her gaze drinking in the sight of him. It was so incredible that he was there with her and their daughter like this. Their sudden domesticity was amazing, a near miracle. “Undoubtedly it is our supper.”

But it was not. Sofie opened the door to admit Jacques Durand-Ruel, who was beaming. “Jacques!” she said, bemused.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est que ça?
Is something wrong?”

He laughed. “You have sold four oils, two sketches, and a pastel. And one of the oils was bought by the Havemeyers.”

Sofie cried out. Edward had risen and come to stand beside her, Edana squirming in his arms. He freed one arm to
hug Sofie, who gaped at Jacques, pulse pounding.

Jacques gripped her hand. “It wasn’t
After Innocence.
But a work like that never sells quickly. It was
A Gentleman At Ease.”

“Oh, Edward, can you believe it?!” Sofie cried, trembling with elation.

Edward pulled her close. “I knew it. I knew the moment I first saw your work last year that you were destined for great things.”

Sofie turned in to his embrace, then saw how Edana was beaming, too, and she kissed her daughter’s cheek fiercely before kissing Edward. “It hasn’t happened yet,” she said, trying to restrain the urge to shout with abandon, to jump with glee. “They bought one work. One. Just one.”

“They will buy more,” Jacques said confidently. “I knew you would not want to wait to hear such news.”

Edward smiled at him. “Thank you, Jacques. We are expecting supper at any moment. Would you like to join us?”

Sofie glanced at Edward, a surge of intense emotion riding through her veins. She had never loved him more than she did in that moment. She knew Edward wanted nothing more than to spend the evening alone with her and Edana, now that they were reunited as a family again after so long a time apart. But he was smiling at Jacques as if he wanted the art dealer to stay with them.

But Jacques was a Frenchman and he comprehended them too well. “
Non. mes amies,
I think tonight you should celebrate
en famille.
I have ordered a bottle of fine champagne for you. Drink it in good health!”

Sofie kissed Jacques on both cheeks. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

“Ce n’est pas de problème. chérie.
But we must sit
down and talk tomorrow about your future.”

Sofie grinned and promised him that she would be at the gallery as soon as it opened. But when Edward coughed, she glanced at him and amended, “Rather, I will be there by noon.”

Jacques laughed and left.

Edward put Edana down in the salon on the nig, where she could not hurt herself, and went to Sofie and caught her up in his embrace. He spun her around and around as if in a frenetic dance. Sofie laughed and laughed. When he stopped she was dizzy, as he undoubtedly was, too. But his kiss was hardly chaste.

“Edward.” Sofie broke away. “I want a real wedding.”

He studied her, suddenly as serious as she. “No civil ceremony in a courthouse in front of a judge?”

Sofie bit her lip. Visions of herself clad in a sumptuous white gown, floating down the aisle of a church, assailed her. “Oh, Edward,” she whispered.

He cradled her face. “We’ve been apart for a year and a half. Now that I’ve found you, I’m almost afraid to let you out of my sight. I want nothing more—
nothing more
—than to be your husband, Sofie. But I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” He hesitated, his gaze drifting far away. “I have family in California. My father. Rick, my brother, Slade, and his wife, Regina. If we delayed a month, they could attend. I have another brother, James, but no one knows where he is.”

“Oh, Edward, I did not know you have family! You’ve never talked about them!” Sofie was surprised. Somehow he had presented himself as a man without a home, a man without roots, without a past. But everyone came from somewhere.

“Once I was very close to them all.”

“Did something happen?”

“It’s a long story.” He was troubled, his mouth tense. “I’m going to invite my mother, too.”

Sofie started.

Edward smiled and kissed her nose. “One day I’ll tell you everything, but not tonight.”

She understood, but felt a sudden, intense pang of longing herself. Yes, she wanted a real wedding, and Edward was going to allow her to have one, even though it meant waiting another few weeks to marry. But the people she cared most about would not be there. Lisa had run away; Suzanne and she were not speaking. Oh, God. Sofie thought
about her mother and tried to imagine her wedding without her there. It was a painful thought.

And as if reading her mind exactly, Edward said, “What will you do about Suzanne, Sofie?”

Sofie looked at him, frozen. “I don’t know.”

The next day Sofie left the Savoy before ten, after all. She had not been able to sleep well the night before. After Edward had finally left the suite, unable to stay the night with her for appearance’s sake, she had lain awake, agonizing over Suzanne.

And in the end the answer was simple. Forgiveness. Although Suzanne had tried to do something unforgivable, her motivation had been to protect Sofie, not to hurt her. And although Sofie had been both furious and devastated, she knew she could not turn her back on her mother forever. The bond was there between them, inseparable, that of mother and daughter; it had been there for too many years, would remain forever. Sofie loved Suzanne. If she had hated her briefly once, perhaps it was because hatred could only spring from love.

And now the hatred was gone. Somehow being reunited with Edward had changed all that. There was only sorrow for a past that could not be changed, and a determination to go forward into a future that promised to be glorious. And Sofie was determined that Suzanne be a part of that future, as she had every right to be.

When Sofie climbed out of the hired hansom, the door of the Ralston residence opened immediately. Jenson stood there, grinning at her. “Miss Sofie!”

Sofie smiled and went to him and kissed him on his whiskery cheek. She had never trespassed across the boundaries between them quite so thoroughly before, and he blushed. “I am getting married, Jenson.”

“I am delighted, miss!”

“Edward is at
Delmonico’s
engaging the ballroom, and by tonight I will know the exact date. I insist you attend,” Sofie said earnestly. “I shall insist that Mrs. Murdock attend, too.”

Jenson gaped. “I most certainly will, Miss Sofie—even if your mother dismisses me for it!”

“If she does, you can come to work for me.” Sofie hesitated by the stairs. “Is she in her room?”

“Yes.”

Uneasy now, Sofie started up the stairs. Outside her mother’s rooms, she paused. Then she walked in.

Suzanne was sitting at her dressing table, a maid putting up her hair. Instantly she saw Sofie in the mirror and froze. Then she was on her feet, facing Sofie, eyes wide. “Lucy, leave us, please.”

The maid hurried out.

“Hello, Mother,” Sofie whispered.

“Sofie.” Suzanne blinked back tears.

“Mother, I have come waving a white flag.”

“Thank God,” Suzanne cried, rushing forward. And suddenly they were in each other’s arms, clinging and rocking.

Sofie fought her own tears and looked up at Suzanne, who was wiping her eyes with a kerchief. “Mother, I am getting married, so the issue of giving up Edana is no longer relevant.”

“I know. I made a mistake, Sofie. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I realize I have made a terrible mistake. I am sorry.”