“Alistair Connor,” Lachlann intervened, “don’t be rude.”
“It’s okay, Lachlann, they are weird. We are.” Sophia smiled. “The twins do talk by telepathy. Felipe and I can also communicate with just a quick look, gesture, or smile. Carolina is the only one who needs words, and still very few. Hmm…Alice! How are we going to pair the couples for the wedding entrance?” She totally ignored Alistair’s distressful moan. “Leonard can take Carol; Lachlann and Grandma. How about the girls?”
“Can’t they be maids of honor?” Alice presented the easiest solution.
Sophia wrinkled her nose. “Oh, no. It’s different in Brazil. We choose couples to stand at the front with us during the ceremony, we call them the godparents of the wedding.” She eyed Leonard with a pensive look. “Maybe Tavish Uilleam and Edward can take the twins. What do you think?”
Alistair rose, saying, “I think that’s all the wedding talk I can take in a day.”
What? Sophia looked at him astonished. “We have less than three months to decide lots of important things. Everything must be ready by the beginning of July.”
“I’ve done my part,” he said, as he lifted her in his arms and walked to the pool. “I have decided the bride, the day, and the place. That’s enough for me.”
“But-but…what about the best man, pageboy, and flower girl, menus, music, cake, seating plans, rehearsal dates, photographers, the honeymoon,” she listed as he walked into the pool.
“I’ll take care of the honeymoon. Have you finished?”
“No, of course not. There’re the favors, the gifts for the—”
“I think you have.” He opened his arms and dropped a screaming Sophia in the water.
From his place, Tavish said to Leonard, “It’ll be fun to watch Alistair Connor squirm under her thumb.”
An angelic smile split Leonard’s face as he regarded a sputtering Sophia splashing Alistair with water. “He has no idea, Tavish. No idea.”
Atwood House
8:00 p.m.
Oh no, Alistair Connor. This is too much. She drummed her nails on her desk and tried to sound calm. “Are you always going to be moody like this?”
“I’m not moody. I don’t feel altogether comfortable having your—”
“Ethan,” she supplied, pursing her lips. Sophia did not know if she should be irritated or flattered by Alistair’s jealousy.
Ex-lover! He narrowed his eyes at her and rose from the armchair, pacing the length of her home office, until he faced her back garden. “Aye. I don’t want you to invite him. In fact, I think you should leave all the business dealings to your employees.” His tone was even and calm, but danger brewed in his eyes when he whirled to look at her. “Ashford was your boyfriend!”
Are you serious? She leaned back on her chair and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Alistair Connor. I don’t like what I’m hearing.”
“Well, me neither.” The silvery light outlined his powerful and masculine frame in the dim room as he mimicked her pose, crossing his arms over his chest.
Damn. He is serious. His reaction threw her totally off guard but if she submitted now, he would become a despot and she knew that she should stand her ground. “Well, I’m so sorry, Lord Caveman, but I’ll continue my dealings with Ethan in the same way I always have. He is my friend. I like him. And I don’t usually take orders from overbearing, jealous men. Future husband or not.”
Fuck, Sophia! His sensual lips, so full of wicked promises, thinned to a harsh line. Alistair glared as he stalked up to her. He bent and caged her inside his arms as his hands gripped the arms of her chair. “Are you always going to be so damn independent?”
Yes! “Probably. It’s a character trait.”
His gaze ran from her lips to her eyes, and she didn’t miss the flicker of desire and admiration she saw in those green pools.
“More of a character flaw,” he mumbled, straightening. No one gainsays me, Sophia, but you. And I don’t know if I like it.
She saw in his eyes he was fighting his emotions. But he eased off, walking back to the windows, and stood there with his hands clenched at his sides.
Alistair flinched when she rested her head on his back and her arms circled his waist.
“We are not going to fight over such an inconsequential thing, are we? He is just a friend. You, Lord Difficult of Jealous-land, are the man of my life. I don’t have eyes for anyone else.”
Warmth flowed over him at her gentle touch and loving words. He just couldn’t stay mad at her for long. Fuck, this is what I want. Her. Just her. My independent, stubborn Sophia.
Alistair spun her in his arms, tucking Sophia against his chest as he burrowed his nose in her hair.
“He doesn’t mean anything to me, Alistair Connor. He’s just a friend.” Her hands stroked the length of his spine, soothing him. “No need to be jealous, my love.”
“I am a jealous man. I want to beat the hell out of any man who’s had you, Ethan included.” He pulled her tight against his hips and took her mouth in a fierce kiss, his hands roaming under her silk top. Her skin felt silky and smooth beneath his palms. He wanted to feel her bare breasts against his chest, have her legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her. He wanted to do the things to her body his tongue was doing to her mouth.
Sophia broke the kiss long before he was ready to let her go. His sweet masculine scent and his hungry kiss left her lightheaded. Her fingers slid into his silky, raven hair as she softened her voice, “Eu te amo.”
He looked down at her and ran his tongue over his lips, still tasting her. I’ll let you have your way, sweetheart, if you give me a bonus. “How about we make a deal?”
You’re big into making deals lately. She raised an eyebrow waiting for his proposal.
“Tell you what. I’ll close my eyes to your business deals with Ashford, if you agree to a trip on your birthday.”
“Alistair Connor. I’ve already explained why it’s impossible to take a week away now.”
He leaned in closer until his lips were inches from hers. “Davidoff is competent enough to handle matters alone.”
She bent her head back and stared seriously into his eyes. “Yeah, he is. But who will make all the decisions for our hasty wedding? You’re no help. I have to decide everything alone.”
Christ, woman! “If I help you, will you agree to come?”
Battle won. She stifled a smile and nodded. “Yeah.”
Battle won. “Good. So a week in the Perhentian Islands.” He smiled triumphantly at her. “We are going to sleep in my new boat, the Sun Ray. Gabriela will love to sleep aboard and you’ll love the scuba diving there.” And I’ll have you all to myself for a whole week.
So sure of yourself, Lord I’m-so-powerful-and-I-know-it. Haven’t you realized I got the best deal? She couldn’t stop her victorious smile from opening and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.
Alistair lost himself in her kiss, but a second later he realized she had maneuvered him to do exactly what she wanted. Breaking the kiss, with an amused smile on his lips, he shook his head at her, whispering, “Witch!”
Ah! Too late. She threw her head back in a happy laugh. “Be careful, my prince. I can turn you into the Beast.”
He growled and picked her up in his arms, heading for her bedroom.
London, Knightsbridge, One-O-One
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
2:17 p.m.
Sophia looked around the brightly lit room, with its soft, sea-blue tones. Large green cushions littered the sofas and sat upon low earthy taupe armchairs. The ambience was unpretentious, graceful, and comfortable, perfect for a relaxed and intimate encounter.
Exactly what Ethan wants. To be intimate with me. She scrutinized the handsome man as he walked back to their table. Ethan’s hair was lighter, with streaks of blond mixed with the caramel and dark brown, his azure eyes were even more startling now that his face was shaved. As always, he was fashionably dressed in a dark-gray tailored suit with a blo
od-red tie and a pristine white shirt. A handsome, intelligent man any woman would be happy to be with. Any woman, but me.
His smile was joyful when he sat beside her on the sofa.
“I loved lunch, Ethan. The pan-roasted Halibut was delicious. And the smell of the truffles, mmm. It’s been a long time since I’ve had such lovely truffles out of season!” Sophia was babbling idiotically, but she was too nervous to stop. “You know I took a Cordon Bleu course, don’t you? This was sensual, epicurean eating. Wow!”
“Yes, Proyart’s cooking shows that he’s the best in England when it comes to fish.” Ethan scooted next to her and put his hand over hers. “Why are you so tense?”
Because I’m going to hurt you. “Ethan…” She took a deep breath, mustering courage. “I didn’t want you to hear this from anyone else. I-I’m getting married.”
That bastard. “MacCraig.” Ethan already knew, but to hear the words from her mouth just sliced his heart open again. He drank a gulp of water to dislodge the stale taste that had filled his mouth. How can you do this to me, Sophia? I trusted you.
“Yes. Alistair Connor. In August. The seventh.” Oh, damn! Slow down, Sophia! Focus on him. She remembered Edward’s words. ‘Do be gentle when you break his heart.’ “But I don’t want it to interfere with our friendship. I like you and…” She felt bad for him. She truly did.
I don’t like you. I love you. For a minute he lost track of her words as his gaze roamed over her face and he remembered Eve, spacing out to a dark place inside his mind.
“—Ethan. But I value our friendship much more than any business transaction. I perfectly understand if you want to cancel the contribution—”
His finger landed smoothly on her mouth, “No. Never.” So, this is it. No more chances. He quietly regarded her as she stammered away inviting him to her wedding and finally fell silent.
For once in his adult life, Ethan didn’t know what to say or how to proceed.
Since Eve, no woman had dismissed him. No woman had exchanged him for another man. No one else had the chance to betray him. He was always the one in charge. He was the one who dismissed them. But with Sophia, from the beginning, things had gone awry, because he couldn’t control his jealousy or work out his inability to deal with children. He had fallen hard for her and didn’t know what to do to free himself of his obsession.
Their silence weighed over them as a suffocating icy fog.
Sophia cleared her throat. “Ethan, I don’t want you to feel…” What? I’m not his girlfriend—or lover—anymore. It’s not in my power to make him feel better. She wrung her napkin in her damp hands.
Exchanged? Betrayed? Hurt? I’m feeling that and much more. “Sophia. Darling.” He captured her hand in his and squeezed it, the two words softly and tenderly washing over her like a soothing wave. “Promise me just one thing.”
“What?” she rasped, looking down at the wrinkled linen napkin on her lap.
“Promise me you will never let MacCraig hurt you. That you will be happy,” he demanded seriously.
“I can promise you that,” she murmured relieved.
He curled his fingers under her chin and turned her face to his. There was no light in his azure eyes when he said, “Know that if you need something, anything, I’ll be here for you. Any time.” He kissed her forehead and smiled down at her, in a swift, faked change of his mood. “Shall we order dessert?”
Chapter 19
Atwood House
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
6:05 a.m.
A low fire flowed through her veins as Sophia crawled her way up through the sea of sleep. It took her only a moment to understand why she felt hot. Alistair’s mouth was on her breast, his lips and tongue stirring an almost painful pleasure in her.
She moaned softly as she threaded her fingers through his silky, long hair, holding him close and silently inviting him to do as he pleased.
He muttered good morning, but didn’t raise his head from her breast. His tongue teased her nipple with so much care that her breathing speeded up.
“Good. Morning,” she murmured between moans, arching beneath his stroking hands and warm mouth.
There was a small part of her that still marveled at how wanton Alistair could make her even in the early hours of the morning. Thoughts soon disappeared from her mind as he made his way, with kisses and nibbles, down her belly and beyond.
“Alistair,” a ragged gasp left her mouth as she pushed up against his lips.
“Easy and slow.” His hands on her hips held her firmly in place, loving the feel of her soft, bare skin under his lips. “Relax and enjoy, sweetheart.” He kissed and teased her leisurely, stoking her desire with slow strokes of his tongue. When his fingers entered her, she was already wild with need, clawing at his hair.
“Please,” she asked in a voice so thick with desire, she barely recognized it as her own. She grabbed hold of his broad shoulders as he kissed his way back up her body with a slow pace she had no patience for. She tugged his hair. “Alistair Connor, don’t tease.”
All mine. He hovered above her, basking in her beauty, those yellow-diamond eyes that he’d never seen in any other.
“I want you,” she whispered, as she wrapped her legs around him and used them to make him lower his hips to hers, struggling to quench the throbbing fire inside her. She took his hard arousal in her hand and stroked him.
He closed his eyes with a low grunt. Her touch was soft and firm.
“Can you feel how much I want you?” she whispered, as she kissed his neck and shoulders.
“Aye.” His green eyes opened to blister her with a possessive look while he let her position him just at her entrance. He claimed her mouth in a searing kiss and thrust shallowly, easing himself into her, bit by bit, in contained movements that left her even more heated. “You’re beautiful.”
“Ah, yes!” She pressed her feet down on his taut buttocks, pushing him deeper. His big, muscular body settled down on her more firmly and she held him close, her fingers and nails exploring the ridges of his back as he filled her, fighting to hold back the need for release mounting inside her with every long plunge of his.
“Alistair, please,” she panted mindlessly, on fire, overwhelmed by his intense passion.
“I love you,” he rasped in her ear, taking her earlobe in his mouth, plunging inside her, a long movement that ended in a circling motion, teasing her clitoris.
She wound her arms around his neck, dipping her fingers in his hair, as her inner muscles contracted rhythmically around his manhood until he was moaning and a sheen film of sweat covered his forehead.
“Wait! Not yet.” He closed his eyes and took her mouth again in a fevered kiss, enjoying the slick feeling of her silken depths squeezing him in tempo with his quickening thrusts. This is when we’re one.
She dug her nails into his shoulder for support as she began to tense up and a constant shuddering took hold of her body.
“Alistair, now.” Another long shove of his hips cut the last tie she had on her control.
Her climax raced through her with such force that she threw her head back and choked back a scream when she came, shaking as convulsions gripped her with the strength of her pleasure.
She was briefly aware of Alistair thrusting fast and hard a few more times before he growled out her name and trembled in her arms as his own orgasm shattered his rigid body.
He fell on her, hauling deep breaths as if he had been rescued from drowning.
Sophia welcomed his weight, her arms holding him tight before he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him.
“You were tense,” she murmured, and placed her head in the crook of his arm, resting her cheek against the warmth of his broad chest. He was all hard muscle covered with soft velvet skin and she wanted to crawl under it. Unable to move or even think, Sophia was utterly unaware when sleep claimed her again.
Alistair lay there looking up at the patterns in blue-and-green on the canopy over her bed, a deep frown
creasing his forehead as he wondered how she would react when she discovered that the press would abound at the gallery opening later that evening.
Leibowitz Oil Building
3:37 p.m.
“I knew I would have to face the press one day.” Sophia sighed and slumped on the navy suede sofa.
“But you hoped this day would never arrive, didn’t you?” Edward placed his ankle on his knee, settling comfortably beside her, and looked at Leibowitz Oil’s PR Director, who was seated in the other armchair. “Well, Sophia, you can’t go on hiding forever. What do you suggest, Ash?”
Ashley Carruthers was an exotic thirty-seven year old Angolan. Discreet, well-connected, sophisticated and sharp-witted, she wasn’t afraid of voicing her opinions and was everything anyone could want in a PR person. Sophia had always compared her to a black panther, with her languorous walk and quiet ways, belying her quick brain, silver tongue, and sharp eyes.
Ashley tapped a finger on her red lips as she consulted her laptop. “I’ve collated everything that’s been said about you since you moved here. I don’t know how, but you have managed to avoid both the gossip magazines and the specialized press. There were some rumors of your death and a few unidentified photos of you with Alistair MacCraig, but that’s all. However,” she drawled the word to emphasize it, “I’ve written a few words.” She handed the sheet over to Edward. “English journalists are quite malicious and as soon as they recognize you, they will write about you, no doubt about it. It’s better to be prepared because they will throw their mics in your face. Don’t snub them. Be forthcoming. If their questions become too nasty, just smile graciously and leave the room. I’ll be there with you. Seven o’clock, you said?”