Tavish was by his side and put a hand on his forearm, slowing their steps. “Stop frowning. As soon as Gabriela is sleeping I’ll give Sophia the drug Dr. Colton prescribed and she will have a good night’s sleep. It’s all she needs right now.”
“And then?”
“Treatment. Therapy and maybe some drugs. Just for a while.”
“She won’t take any.”
“I’ve had a look at the notes she gave me. The drugs they gave her in that Brazilian hospital were different and the dosages were too high, which made her feel drowsy and spaced out. The assessment indicates that there may be some elements of PTSD. But,” he paused and looked at his brother, “I don’t think she’s completely wrong in her reasoning. If just one trauma, for most people, is enough to give them severe symptoms such as depression, mania, and many other disorders, imagine what these many traumas did to her.”
Alistair grimaced. “It must be heart-wrenching.”
“It is.” He knew from experience what he was talking about. “There is no right or wrong way to feel or respond to an event. The healthiest way is to deal with it immediately so after weeks or even months, they gradually lift and get better.”
“But I saw her getting a little better each day, not worse.”
“Sometimes Alistair Connor,” his sigh was soul-deep, “symptoms stay hidden and appear seemingly out of the blue when a great pressure is exerted on the traumatized. At other times, they’re triggered by something that reminds you of the original traumatic event, like noise, an image, certain words, or a smell. Today, all of them came crashing down on her in less than a few hours.”
“The problem with Sophia is that she is no’ tolerant with her own reactions and feelings.” Alistair rubbed his fingers on his chin, thoughtfully, remembering their conversation about her need for perfection. Yeah, I should have seen it coming.
As if Tavish could hear Alistair chastise himself, he said, “As if you were tolerant with yourself. You couldn’t have seen it coming. Not as it did. Support from close relatives will be vital for her to recover from the traumatic stress. So get her to lean on you more, make her call her siblings or her closest friends. In fact, ask her if you could go with her to one of her therapy sessions so you can have more information and share the experience with her and her therapist. From now on, you can be more attentive.”
“I will.” He squeezed his eyes, observing that Alberto still hadn’t moved from the bench while Rose’s white trousers were all green and dirty and a big smile slashed her face. “She asked me not to interfere in her talk with her in-laws.” In spite of all the tension, he chuckled. “Prepare to see a radical change. Inside that dearling I married, dressed in a rosy silver cloud of a dress, a fighter is hiding. To protect her daughter, she would sprout a fire sword from thin air and fight him alone.”
“What could an old man like him do to a woman surrounded by stronger and younger men?” Tavish asked, calculating the odds of Alberto’s position. It belied the anger and disapproval he had against his daughter-in-law, which left him in waves as Sophia looked dismissively at him. When Tavish saw Alberto rise at the far end of the garden with hatred in his face, he added, “Well, at least I hope so.”
“I don’t like him. It’s clear to me he hates her, which makes me fear his reaction.” Alistair harrumphed, watching Sophia head straight to Rose and Gabriela, who were eating chocolate cake completely oblivious to everything around them. “I won’t interfere, then. But I will stay beside her.”
Sophia sat on the grass by Gabriela and Rose. She asked, “Is the cake good, Angel?”
Gabriela squealed and threw herself on her lap, planting a chocolate kiss on her cheek. “Delicious, Mama. Thanks.”
“As always, Sophia,” Rose answered. “You have magical hands.”
Praises, Rose? Now? Sophia nodded, regally.
The older woman looked away. When she turned her gaze back, there were tears rimming her blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Sophia. I should have—”
“Too late, Rose.” Sophia looked her mother-in-law over.
Rose was still a very beautiful and elegant woman in her early sixties. The docile English woman had fallen in love with the looks and charm of the hateful, conceited Alberto. Even though she had never been mean to Sophia, Rose had always stood by her husband, letting him say the cruelest things to her when Gabriel wasn’t near.
Rose had been crushed all her life and had never rebelled. Not even when Alberto negotiated with the kidnappers, endangering her only son’s life, did Rose say a word.
“I have to thank you. This has been my happiest day since…” her voice broke and a lone tear fell down her face. She didn’t look away from Sophia, nor wipe away the tear.
Sophia’s gaze didn’t waver either. “I know, Rose. I know.” Oh, Sophia! Don’t be so mean. You’re happy. Let her have a measure of peace.
Another tear fell down Rose’s face and Gabriela’s hand brushed them. “Are you sad, Granny?”
“No, my dear,” Rose said, smiling. “I’m happy because I had one of the best days of my whole life and I received a wonderful gift from your mother today.”
Sophia didn’t know how to judge her. She was kind and polite but she had also abided her husband’s cruelty. Maybe she has never had the opportunity. Maybe no one trusted her enough.
“What gift, Granny?”
Rose put Gabriela in her lap. The older, wrinkled hand settled over the younger one. “You, my dear. You’re the best gift she gave me. It took me a long time to realize this.”
“I wish it had been different, Rose. I do. Unfortunately, we are products of our daily choices. And choices have consequences. You sided with the wrong, losing party.” Show a little love, Sophia. Open yourself for her. Sophia put a hand over theirs and squeezed. “Anyway, you’re welcome to see Gabriela. Any day. Just give me a call.”
“I’d like that, Sophia. Thanks.” Another tremulous smile opened on Rose’s face. “You don’t know how much I have thought about Gabriela and you these last years; about what happened; how right you were about…everything. I should…I should have listened to you then. I will from now on. You were a great wife and you’re a wonderful mother.”
“Thank you, Rose,” she whispered, moved by her mother-in-law’s words. It was as if a heavy boulder had been taken off Sophia’s shoulders. She smiled back at Rose and turned to her daughter. “Let’s go, Angel. You’ll have to shower again. You and your naughty grandma are all dirty.”
The little girl giggled, hugged, and kissed Rose.
Sophia rose and picked up Gabriela in her arms, putting her on her hips. She stretched out her hand to help Rose get up.
“Well, it does seem we have been naughty girls, Gabriela.” Rose brushed her hands over her white trousers, trying to clean herself, but making them even dirtier. Shrugging, she stared into Sophia’s eyes, and said heartily, “Thank you. I had such a wonderful time today.”
“I did too, Mama,” Gabriela added. “Granny is very nice. She knows how to play lots of games.”
Sophia’s heart melted. What pleased her daughter, pleased her too. She smiled at Gabriela. “Your father must be very happy seeing you together. Your grandma is a sweet lady.” But your grandfather is a jerk. “Rose, my offer is sincere. You can even stay here with us if you wish.”
“Oh, Sophia.” Rose’s mouth opened in surprise and she looked back at her husband who was quickly approaching. Already knowing the answer, she asked, “But he won’t be welcomed?”
Sophia shook her head so fiercely that her braid moved to her front. “He won’t.”
“I have rights.”
Alberto’s angry voice reached her, and Sophia felt Gabriela’s hands clutching her T-shirt. She dropped to her haunches and put the child on the ground. “My angel, why don’t you go inside with Maria? I’ve made your favorite tartlets.”
Gabriela cocked her head to the side, looking at her mother, as if unsure whether she should go or stay. She craned her neck to look at
the angry man that she didn’t like and who was threatening them. Gabriela blinked. He seemed so big and menacing that she wanted to stay and protect her mother from him. She just didn’t know how.
Don’t, Angel. You’re too small for all this. “Please, Gabriela.” Sophia didn’t move from her position until Gabriela went to Maria. It was then that she saw Alistair’s and Tavish’s shadows behind her. Twin shadows that brought light, that gave her strength. One, a protective fierce leader and lover; the other, a steady friend, almost a brother.
Sophia stood up and they flanked her. She raised a brow at Alberto. “You were saying?”
“Hiding behind men won’t protect you from my wrath,” he said, as always in Portuguese, as if to spite Alistair.
Rose put a hand on his arm and in English pleaded, “Alberto, my dear, please—”
“Shut up, Rose,” he said harshly and turned back to Sophia, “I have rights.”
Calling me a coward again? She stepped forward, raising her chin. She answered him in English, “Yes, you do have rights. You can come all the way up from São Paulo, every fifteen days, for three hours only, and meet Gabriela inside my house with the presence of her nanny, your wife, and my bodyguards. I saw how much you enjoyed yourself today.”
Tavish was following the discussion, amazed at how Sophia had transformed herself.
The older man fisted his hands and trying to scare Sophia, growled, “I have you under my radar. I have proof and—”
Oh. You are so not doing this again. “Try me. I don’t hide behind men,” she squared her shoulders and felt Alistair put an arm over her shoulder, and Tavish stepped forward. “I have an army by my side, which is quite different. And these two are just the generals.”
“Sophia, I accept your offer,” Rose bit out. Before Alberto could stop her, she rushed away from him, standing beside Alistair, who looked down at her, astonished. She looked up at him and explained, the words tumbling from her mouth, “Sophia offered me to see Gabriela whenever I wanted. I wouldn’t impose on you. I can stay with my sis—”
“Rose!” Alberto growled and tried to snatch Rose’s arm, just to be stopped by Tavish’s firm grip around his forearm.
Alberto looked down at Tavish’s hand and back at his face, but couldn’t sustain Tavish’s serious stare for very long.
Alistair, who was exerting a firm control over his emotions, signaled to the bodyguards stationed by the garden gates. He would not take any more disrespect from Alberto inside his own house. “Zareb, Devon, please see the gentleman out. His time is up. Mrs. Leibowitz, I approve of Sophia’s offer.”
“Thank—”
“Rose! You’re coming with me. Now.”
The permanent smile on Zareb’s face was gone when he said, “Sir, Mr. MacCraig has graciously requested you leave his house. Do you need some help?”
“HIS HOUSE?! Rose! Can’t you see what she’s doing?” He tried again, staring incredulously at his wife. They had been married for more than forty years and she had never said no to his orders.
Shaking her head, as tears slowly fell from her eyes, she whispered, “Goodbye, Alberto. Sophia was right, I should have done this many years ago.”
Sophia was aghast. She expected that outcome as much as Alberto did.
“You are a rotten Midas. Your touch is evil,” he spat out to Sophia, his face a distorted mask of anger. “I’ll destroy you. Mark my words.”
You said that so many times that I used to believe it and even repeated it myself. Not anymore. Calmly, not betraying the trembling she was feeling inside, Sophia informed Alistair, “I’m done here.”
It’s about time! He gave her a small nod and, with his brother, escorted the women inside the house, leaving an enraged Alberto behind.
Chapter 38
Walking into the upstairs TV room, Alistair saw Sophia still asleep in the same place he had left her. Her raven hair made a dazzling contrast with her pallid face resting on a light orange pillow.
Tavish had given her the drug prescribed by her psychiatrist, patiently explaining how it worked and why she needed to take it. Alistair had never seen his brother use his magic on a person like that. And Sophia, who had been fiercely against taking any drugs, had yielded to him.
As he tried to pick her up without waking her, she lethargically opened her eyes.
She slurred to him, “That thing Tavish Uilleam gave me is good. I was having a nice dream.”
It made Alistair feel a pinch of jealousy. He brushed the thought aside and smiled down at her, picking her up in his arms. “What were you dreaming of?”
“You. It was about you.”
Her slow, sweet smile brought forth his deepest tender feelings. It constantly surprised him how drastically he had changed after meeting Sophia.
“Of course it was about me,” he whispered, laying her down on her side of the bed and covering her with the duvet.
“Lord I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it.” She made a face at him. As her lids started to close again, she asked, “Hold me when you come back, will you?”
“I will.” He stayed there for a moment more, smoothing her long hair until he was sure she was in a deep slumber again.
Only then did he rise to get ready for bed with a curling smile on his lips. As if I needed a reminder to hold you in my arms.
Château D’Esclimont
Friday, August 27, 2010
7:00 p.m.
As she brushed her hair, Barbara watched Ethan in the mirror. Under the shower, head thrown back, the water pounding against his chest and the billowing steam that plumed around him only added to the eroticism of the picture he presented.
“See something you like?” he purred.
Barbara started, but turned and smiled sensuously at him.
Ethan’s eyes singed her, turning her on as his hand ran down his chest to his cock, grabbing it, pleasuring himself. She couldn’t take her eyes away.
“I think I asked you a question.” He was already aroused. He stepped out from under the water with suds all over his body and stood in the middle of the huge bathtub, his feet planted wide, his arm flexing rhythmically as he stroked himself. “Do you see something you like?”
Barbara licked her lips. The wide head of his erection was engulfed in his palm and she couldn’t help herself as she answered huskily, “Yes. You’re so fucking hot.”
Fucking hot. His lips twisted with disgust, the foul language reminding him of his mother. Forget Calista and enjoy the moment. His movements quickened, sliding rhythmically, his eyes fixed on her. With his free hand, he wiggled his finger at her and then slid it slowly up his abdomen, taking away part of the soap.
As she stepped in the tub, she grabbed his wrists. “Let me do this. I want to worship you.”
His eyes squeezed shut, as if the words were too much for him to take. When they opened again, the force of his need sent a shiver of desire through her. “Then do it.”
“You don’t how much you affect me.” Ethan was undeniably the most handsome and virile man Barbara had ever seen and she was completely in love with him. She backed him into the water, and cleaned him of the lather as she kissed him, delicately caressing his chest. While her hands moved to his back and grabbed his butt, his arousal squeezed between their bodies and she rubbed her breasts on his wet chest. She broke the kiss and before she licked her way down, she whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”
Beautiful?! No one has ever called me beautiful! He smiled. “You’re a beautiful woman yourself.”
Already on her knees, with her hand around his hard cock, she looked up at him surprised. He had never said a word of praise to her.
“What’s your name?”
Her mouth slackened. The surge of emotion that Barbara felt in that moment was devastating. After all these months, he still hadn’t asked her name.
“Barbara,” she managed to say.
“You are beautiful, Barbara,” he nodded, and tweaked a nipple between his fingers, before his hand moved to
the back of her head and he nudged her mouth with the tip of his arousal. “Now, show me what I do to you.”
An unexpected burst of need flared through her, together with love and an immense hope.
She sucked and licked with all her might until with a painful hold that conveyed the rawness and anguish of his pleasure, holding her head in place, he plunged deeply one last time and came in her mouth.
A growl escaped his mouth, “Barbara!”
She embraced him tightly with her arm, her face pressed against his stomach, as her climax hit her with a final thrust of her fingers inside herself. “I love you, Ethan.”
Sunday, August 29, 2010
7:41 a.m.
Barbara was sound asleep when Ethan left the room quietly.
Downstairs, he grabbed a glass of cold milk and a banana, informing the waiter that he would return later to have a proper breakfast.
The day was sunny and beautiful and the peace of the park seemed in agreement with his mood.
He didn’t know when he had decided to end the farce but he was glad he did it. It had taken a huge weight from his heart. Sophia was gone and it would do him no good to be thinking of her.
He elongated his calves and thigh muscles and was off for a run. The day before, he ate a three course meal plus champagne and red wine, which was unusual for him.
He palmed his flat stomach and shrugged. He was thirty-six years old and in fine shape. He had tried to coax Barbara to accompany him while running, but she said she didn’t like it, that she preferred yoga. As long as she stayed fit he didn’t care what she did.
He had only asked to be polite. He didn’t mind running alone. In fact, he liked it. It was when his thoughts were clearer and his mind at peace. He even had a treadmill at home and one in his office for when he felt the need to ease his mind from weird jumbled thoughts.
He loved coming to Esclimont castle with its stone bridges, turrets, and façades enlivened with niches, balconies, and sculptures. But what he loved most was the tranquility that the large expanses of woodland provided. He wished his grandfather had bought this castle instead of the one in Scotland, although he liked Altreck too, with its enormous golf course, its loch, and its stories and legends.