Eden's Sin (10 page)

He
pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, honey.” His hands stroked her hair, her back, easing the tight grip the memories held. “So sorry.”

She
slid her arms around him, holding on to his heat, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His hands rubbed slow, soothing circles on her back while tears soaked the front of his shirt. He didn’t push her to go on, didn’t make an excuse to leave. He just supported her while she cried. He just
was.

When her sobs had wound down to shuddering hiccups,
he eased her into the chair, then slipped the handkerchief into her hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“
Stay right here.” He walked over to the sink and pumped the handle, then dipped a rag into the water and returned to the table, stroking the cool rag over her heated face. “I want to apologize for everything and every mean thing I said to you.” He gently smoothed her cheeks, tenderness from such large, rough hands.  “Please forgive me?”

She nodded, partly too shocked to speak. Mostly too scared to breath
e else she wake up from this dream. He was still here, still being kind. It had to be a dream.

S
he watched him from beneath lowered lids. He seemed lost in thought, and not nice ones. His jaw hardened, a tick started above his eye.

“
Eden, did Alice
make
you start whoring? Was she the madam?”

“
No! Alice said I could do the laundry and help her in the kitchen. The madam agreed. I worked with Alice and took care of Sophia in a back room…but it didn’t take me long to realize if I raised her in a whorehouse, she’d be a whore. So I started saving money to send her away to a proper school. But by the time she was five I didn’t have even half what I’d need.”

She tilted her head to his,
needing to see his face for what she was about to tell him.

“
The madam knew I was desperate for money, and she told me some man would pay top dollar for a virgin and she’d split the money with me.”

“
Oh, honey.”

Eden pushed away
the images, the pain, the sickly-sweet smell of cologne. Some things weren’t meant to be remembered. “I was thirteen when I had my first man.”

He frowned, his brows one dark, brooding line, but he took her hand, his thumb rubbing circles in her palm, silent acceptance to continue.

“By the time I was fifteen, I’d enrolled Sophia in the best girls’ school in St. Louis. I opened my own brothel when I was eighteen. Sophia was doing well in school and I was making plenty of money. When I was twenty-two I met Alexander. The very devil himself. But I didn’t see his cruelty, not until it was too late.”

Sin
clair squatted in front of her, his gaze serious. “He was the one who hurt you?”

“
Yes. He came by several times a week, always bringing gifts and—” her voice cracked, “and he whispered pretty, pretty words. Words I had waited to hear my entire life. I let myself believe he loved me. And I stupidly stopped being careful until…”

Dear God, could she say it? Could she tell him?

“Until what?”

She swallowed. Hard.
“I stopped being careful, until I found myself pregnant.” She gave a hollow laugh, hollow from the shame and guilt and anger that she’d been so damn stupid. “I was truly my mother’s daughter.”

Pain strained Sinclair’s
features, but he didn’t speak. Just nodded for her to go on.

“
I thought he’d marry me, that I’d become an acceptable part of society. I had so many naïve dreams I thought were coming true. I would be a real lady. Not a whore. Someone would finally love me.”

“
Eden, don’t.” Sinclair’s jaw ticked, his teeth gritting out the words.

“
No, let me get this all out. I have to.”

He closed his eyes
. 

“
The night I told him…” She had to stop as her throat tightened with tears. “I told him about the baby, told him we could have a family. He laughed at first. Not a funny laugh, but a hard, evil laugh. He called me a damned whore and told me it wasn’t his child. When he said that, something in me broke. I started screaming at him, pounding his chest. The baby was his, Sin,
it was
. After our first time together, I promised him I wouldn’t lay with another man, and I didn’t.” She gazed into his face, willing him to see the truth. And when he opened his eyes, tears welled in the dark depths.

“
I believe you, honey.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his chest, pulling her down onto the kitchen floor with him until she sat nested in the vee of his legs.

The memories poured from her now, like a flood, all the pain and anger pushing the words our like
water through a broken dam.

“
He kept calling me a whore, pushing me from my bedroom, out to the stairs. I didn’t realize he had a knife until it was too late, until it was buried deep in my belly. He laughed—
laughed—
  and said,
problem solved
. Then he smiled. The coldest, most unfeeling smile I’ve ever seen, and he pushed me down the stairs. I remember falling. The oak landing nearly broke my back. I flipped over and over. My leg bent the wrong way.”

Tears rolled down her face a
nd dripped onto Sin’s legs but she kept going. “I woke a few days later in a hospital. Alice was with me. Alexander had known the right people to have my house closed as an illegal brothel, my possessions sold to pay city fines, and all my girls scattered to the winds. All but Alice. She stayed and had the good sense to grab all my jewelry before Alexander got them. The day I was to be released, a letter arrived stating if I didn’t leave St. Louis, my sister was dead.

“
So I left. I ran like a coward. I lost everything because I believed a man could care about me.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “But I won’t make that mistake ever again.”
Not even with you.

With each word he
stiffened against her, his hands fisted, his gaze downcast.

There. Now he knew. Just as she’d feared, he was disgusted.

And now he could go.

“
Are you done?” His words were tight, angry.

She nodded and climbed to her feet
. “There’s not much else to say, is there? I understand you’ll want to leave now. I don’t blame you, and I won’t hold hard feelings against you for judging me.” How could any decent person
not
judge her?

“
What?” He jumped up, his hands flaying in the air as he paced. “Not much left to say? Well, I
could
say that sometimes you make me so damned angry I could spank your beautiful ass.”

Spank
? What was he—
beautiful ass
?

He turned and marched toward her.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn? Why do you have to keep degrading yourself?”

“
I—I don’t. I’m just telling the truth.”

He leaned in close, bracing his arms on each side of her, his palms flat against the oak table. His voice softened, though his expression became strained.

“
When are you going to stop trying to push me away? Because I’m not leaving.”

“
Why?” Tears filled her eyes, her throat nearly closing with the ache to cry. “Why do you care about me?”

He blinked. Then stared at her, searching, his gaze devouring.
“I don’t know. I just do. And I can’t stop.”

“
You will.” She wouldn’t let herself believe otherwise. It would hurt too much when he walked away.

“
No. I won’t.” His eyes darkened, then focused on her mouth. He cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her bottom lip.  “I can’t stop. I’ll never stop.” Those words were nothing more than a whisper as his lips replaced his thumb.

The kiss was slow at first, slow and deep. He licked into her mouth, not aggressively, almost as if he was asking permission. His tongue slid against hers, teasing, retreating, inviting her to play.

And oh, God, she wanted to.

He tasted like
cinnamon and whiskey, smelled like leather and musk, surrounded her, filled her senses. She wanted to get closer, to wrap herself in his heat. Stay here forever.

Slidin
g her arms around his neck, she buried her fingers in his thick hair. He groaned and gripped her tighter, pulled her closer.

Warmth exploded in her belly, pooling then flowing like warm honey through her.
He nibbled down her jaw, nuzzled her neck, his breathing rough and ragged, his whiskers prickly on her skin, his breath hot, moist.

He pulled back, dropping quick kisses on her chin, her nose, her eyelids.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He put her at arm’s length. “But I don’t want you to think I just want sex. I mean I do, but I want more.”

“
More?” What did he mean? Her lust filled brain couldn’t make sense of his words. And the silly hopeful answer that materialized—that he might mean a respectful life—well, she couldn’t let herself go down that path again.

“
Yes, more. I want to take you back to Fort Hayes with me. I think we—”

“
No.” She shook her head and backed away. He didn’t mean it. Couldn’t mean it. “You just need sex. Afterward, you’ll regret asking. Because underneath it all, you’re a decent man, and decent men don’t care about whores.” No one cared about whores.

He reached for her, but she pushed his hands away.

“Damn it, Eden.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I hate that you have no faith in yourself or me. I hate that you carry not only your sins but your mother’s. I hate that instead of happiness in your eyes I see sadness.” He shook his head. “And I hate that you think I’m so
decent
.” He spit the word as if it had a bad taste. “Last night when we were drinking you ask me what pain I was trying to forget. You said I had a hollowness in my eyes.”

She nodded, afraid of what he was going to say.

“I have to tell you something. Why I don’t trust women, why I was so mad at you for lying to me about who you were.”

“
All right.” Her words were just a whisper.

“
And when I’m done, we’ll see who wants to walk out on whom.”

Chapter
Six

Sinclair sucked in a deep breath and held a chair out for Eden. “Sit down and pour us both a shot.”

There was so much he’d never told anyone, never even said aloud because he was too ashamed. But now,
Eden needed to hear this. And hell, maybe he needed to say it. Maybe it would convince her to forgive herself. Of course the irony in that was he didn’t know how to forgive himself.

He took the glass and threw back
the whiskey, letting it burn as he tried to put together some words that made sense.

“
I’m the second son – technically – born to Judge Wilson Bradford of Boston. My brother Theodore and I were twins. He was one minute older. My father used to point out that I was the weaker even then, settling for seconds from the moment of birth. And it proved to be true. Theodore was smarter, faster, taller, stronger, exactly what my father wanted in a son. Willing to do exactly what my father wanted. West Point. Harvard Law. Politics.”

Eden’s frown twisted his gut, but he pushed f
orward, despite a cutting fear that she might hate him.

“
I—” He cleared his throat. “I’m exactly what you hate. A rich politician’s son.”

“
Sinclair!” She squeezed his hands, giving him hope she could accept the rest of his story.

“
No. Let me tell you.”

She nodded.

“I liked attending West Point because I wanted to be a soldier. I felt the impending war was a Godsend because it delayed Father’s political plan for me. Not however, my mother’s social plan. She intended to see one or both of us boys married before the war, married into better families so as to socially benefit her.”

Lord, he sounded bitter
. Had he never realized how much anger he held toward his mother? Apparently his dislike of social-climbing women started before Coreena, and he’d never even grasped that fact.

“
That February in ‘61, before the fighting, Theodore was in Washington at Father’s bidding, kissing the ass of some politician who could ensure my brother’s future. That left me the soul focus for my mother’s match making.”

Eden listened,
her green eyes huge and haunted. God, he should just shut his mouth. If he had any hope of her falling in love with him, now was the time to stop talking.

But he couldn’t. She’d been brave enough to purge her past. He owed her the same.
Even if she walked away once she knew the truth. If he lost her but she found and owned her own self-respect, wasn’t it worth the risk?

Hell, no, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.

But he couldn’t stand the thought of her believing she was less because of how life had treated her.

Scrubbing a palm over his face, he charged forward.
“Coreena was the epitome of society. Her family was friends of ours. Part of me thinks I didn’t fight Mother too much on wedding because it meant getting married before Theodore. And sadly as a twenty-one year old jackass, I didn’t consider the consequences of marrying someone I really didn’t love. I figured if she wanted to marry me and stay in Boston while I fought glorious battles and rode the open Western plains, then where was the harm?”

Eden frowned.
“Please, tell me you’re not married now.” Tears choked her words.

“
No, honey. No.” He walked around the table and tugged her into his arms, her little body softening as she heaved a long breath. “Once I left for the war, Coreena’s letters became few and far between, and I suppose I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t care enough to ask for furlough until she wrote begging me to come visit. So I did,” he swallowed, waiting for the familiar anger to spike, “and Theodore was there, waiting for Father to finish working on his rank, making sure Theo joined the fighting as a
Colonel,
not a low ranking soldier, like me. And while my brother waited, he kept my wife company.”

“
Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, no, no…”

“
A month after I returned to battle, she wrote telling me she was pregnant. I told myself the child was mine.
Convinced
myself because I had been home and bedded her.” He couldn’t stop the disgust edging his words. “Just as she’d planned. No wonder she urgently needed me home. A bit hard to tell your husband you’re expecting if he hasn’t screwed you in six months.”

Damn, why did that betrayal
still feel like an open wound?

“
Oh, God, I’m sorry.” The sheer agony in her voice had him tilting her face to his. Tears trailed down her soft cheeks.

“
Shhh. I don’t want you to cry for me.” Dear Lord, had anyone ever cried for him?

“
I c-can’t help it. How could anyone be so cruel to you?”

He brushed away her tears. How could anyone who life had treated so poorly still have so much heart?

She wrapped her arms around his neck, tight, her hair fluttering down his arm. He caught a strand between his fingers and let his mind go back to Gettysburg.

“
It was a few hours before the battle. Theo was scared. Wild eyed scared.” He stopped, the pain, tension, the grief of that day like a weight on his chest. “So scared, he started drinking—and confessing all his sins. When he told me the baby was his, I wanted to kill him. He’d always been the best, the first, and the thought my own wife preferred him turned ugly inside of me. A kind of anger I’ve never let out again.”

“
Justified anger!” Eden’s eyes flashed, deep green sparking like an emerald fire.

It would be easy to let her sway him. He’d fooled himself for so long, defe
nding that anger.

“
Perhaps. Yes, in some ways I was justified. But part of it was self-hatred. Doubt. I always wished I could be perfect like Theo. I thought if I kept trying and was a good soldier, my family would see I was just as good—my
wife
would see it.” He pushed past the tightness in his throat. Why did being honest have to hurt so damned bad? 

She caught his cheeks between her palms until they were eye to eye.

“I can’t imagine any man better than you.” She hugged him again, her breath warm on his neck. “Not your brother. Not anyone.”

Warmth shot through him like a boost from cheap whiskey. Here was someone who thought him the best.

But I’m no saint.
And he had to tell her so. He squeezed her close, then stepped back to finish talking.

“
Theo and I got into a terrible fight. By the time they pulled us apart, I told him I hope he died that day. I told him I hoped some damned Johnny Reb blew his head off.”

Eden closed her eyes, tears trailing down her cheeks.

“I meant it too. At
that moment
I meant it. But hours later when the smoke was so thick I couldn’t see twenty feet in front of me, I started to regret those words. None of us had seen a battle like that. Not ever. I tripped over the dead, men, boys, North, South, bodies everywhere. My men were scattered into chaos. So I started looking for Theodore. When I found him…” Sinclair swallowed hard, “it was bad. He’d been shot in the gut. He – he asked me to forgive him, then,” Sinclair sucked in a lung-full of air, trying not to smell the sulfur and blood in the air, trying not to feel Theo’s ice cold fingers, “he handed me his damned harmonica and ask me to give it to his baby.

“
Then he died. Just like I’d wanted him to. Just like I wished.”

“
Oh, Sin.”

Damn
it
. He didn’t want to cry in front of her. He stood, rubbing his eyes, but she was right behind him, wrapping her arms around him as if he wasn’t a killer or a rotten son-of-a-bitch.

“
Sin, you can’t wish someone dead.” She sounded angry on his behalf. But she didn’t know it got worse.

He turned and stepped back, out of her arms.
“I think you can.” He pulled the scarred harmonica from his pocket and rubbed his thumb over the warm metal. “Because I had wished Coreena dead too. And when she got the telegram about Theo, she killed herself. Her suicide note said she wouldn’t live without the only man she ever loved. And that man surely wasn’t me. Never was. Never could be. Theo was the man who held her heart.” He squeezed his eyes closed, then exhaled a long breath. Lighter. That’s how he felt. Like the yoke that had been choking him was looser. The guilt was still there, but the anger was gone. And even the guilt didn’t feel like it was drowning him anymore.

Eden watched him, her eyes wide and sad.
He turned, tucking her under his chin, stroking the silk of her hair as it fell down her back, letting go of the past, holding his future.

“I’ve carried so much anger through the years, and I didn’t care if I ever let it go. Until I met you. Now I finally understand why Theodore and Coreena couldn’t stay away from each other.” He did. He never had but now, God help him, he’d take Eden away from any man who had her or he’d die trying. “That’s how I’ve felt since the moment I saw you. I want you more than the air I breathe.” He leaned his forehead against hers.

“
I want you too.” Her hands gripped his. “I—”

“
But you understand now why when you lied I became angry.” He shook his head. “I’m just glad you finally told me everything.”

She nodded, but her brow still crinkled with worry.
“So…what now?”

“
This.” Scooping her into his arms, he ducked his head for a deep kiss. No thinking, no worrying, just feeling. The press of her breasts against his chest. The curve of her waist. The fullness of her ass under his palm. Dear God, if she pushed him away now it would kill him.

“
Is this all right?” He nibbled down her neck, nipping the soft skin. “Should I stop?”
Please, please don’t tell me to stop.

“No. Don’t stop.” She tugged his head lower toward her breasts, moaning when his tongue danced over her skin. “Don’t ever stop, Sin.”