Trust (34 page)
“Aye. My father has been pestering me to bring you. Seems that Alice and Leonard have been gossiping.”
There it is again. That ghost of a smile. What does it mean?
“Hmm…”
He wants to introduce me to his father and younger brother?
She wondered if this was good or bad.
Really, Sophia? Still wondering?
“I can’t leave Gabriela this weekend.”
Lying now?
She felt guilt filling her up.
I’m afraid
. She acknowledged, aggravated.
“The thought never crossed my mind. Of course she’ll come with us.” The tightness of his features lessened when his lips curled in a beautiful smile. “She’s got me wrapped around her little finger.”
And I’m wrapped around yours
. She crossed her legs and leaned back on the arm of the sofa away from him, chewing her lips. “I’m not so sure about this.” Her braid fell away from his hand.
“What do you mean?” Alistair felt her withdrawing and became alert. He bent in her direction and recaptured her long braid, this time coiling it securely around his wrist possessively.
“Well… It’s going to be a family gathering. I don’t want to intrude. It’s your brother’s birthday and I-”
She halted as a waiter arrived with the special finger sandwiches of honey roasted ham and caramelized golden cross goat’s cheese, freshly baked orange blossom scones, and toasted crumpets with the Regents Park honey, homemade jam, lemon curd, and Devonshire clotted cream. He served their tea. Sophia’s mouth watered and she licked her lips.
Alistair almost shuddered with repressed desire. “You were saying?” he asked as soon as the waiter left.
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. Her thumb and index finger unconsciously caressed the place where her wedding ring should be. “That I’m not going.” She didn’t look at him and she tapped her boot nervously on the floor.
The waiter returned with a selection of pastries including bird cookies, fairy cakes with sugar flowers, and mixed fruit tartlets arranged on a three-tier silver tray. Alistair almost barked at him to go away.
“You’re.
Not
. Going.” His voice dark as he scowled at her fingers’ movements. “I don’t understand you, Sophia.” He shook his head hard and his hair flew around him.
“It’s too soon-”
“It’s not soon, Sophia. I’m going,” he informed and heard her sigh, “And you’re going with me. Period.”
Don’t you dare say no
.
She looked down at her hands and caught the telltale caress, which startled her. She stole a peek at him; he was once again poker-faced, watching her right fingers toying with the base of her left ring finger.
She leaned over to pick up a scone and spread lemon curd on it. She bit into it, turning her face away to look at the garden, avoiding his eyes.
What should I do? What should I do?
For the first time, she felt very much afraid and unsure.
You idiot! Say yes!
Contrasting sweet and sour flavors exploded on her tongue, but were lost on Sophia as she debated with herself.
She wavered in her decision, “I have a long day tomorrow.”
He wants to take you to his childhood home. He has been respecting you so far. A perfect gentleman. He’s doing everything right and you’re still undecided, Sophia?
“I’m sure your boss will allow you to leave early.” His hand held her braid again and tugged at it, a touch of savagery in it, before releasing it to pick up his cup of tea.
“I’m not free before two o’clock, though,” she ceded. “Is that okay? What time is the flight?”
He smiled and his green eyes flickered. He quickly schooled his expression.
Good, very good
. He felt a hard slam in his chest.
I’m… happy?
He didn’t really understand his infatuation and the happiness filling him upon her acceptance. So unforeseeable was that happiness, it left him unprepared for his heartbeats stirring alive again. His heart, dead for so long, beat strongly and it disconcerted Alistair. Unsettled by the feeling, he leaned in and kissed her, letting desire and lust override the other emotion.
“We’re in a restaurant.” She pushed him away when the kiss got too heated.
He smiled at her. “We’re concealed. The curtains are very well placed.”
“Nonetheless, I’d rather you behaved,” she scolded.
“Okay.” He put his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “I can pick up Gabriela and your luggage first and then you.”
“Thanks. You’re a saint.”
“Beauty,” he curled his fingers under her chin and lifted it, compelling her to look at him. “I’ve already told you, I’m not a saint. Not at all,” he said.
A short, dark laugh escaped his chest. A deep, masculine sound that made her respond with a shudder.
“By the way, the two of us are going out tonight. I made reservations for us at nine o’clock.”
“Where?”
“Surprise.” His enchanting smile showed that his unpredictable mood had changed.
From darkness to light in seconds
. “Why do men always do this?” She huffed. “How can I dress accordingly if I don’t know where I’m going?”
“Do you want to know the dress code of the restaurant?”
“Sure.”
“It is as beautiful and elegant as Sophia is.”
“You- you-”
He laughed. “Yes? I, what?”
“Oh, forget it.” She sipped her tea. “Just forget it.”
Atwood House.
6.30 p.m.
When Sophia arrived home Gabriela hopped from one foot to the other. “Mama, are we going? Are we?”
“Good evening, my angel. How was your day?” Sophia said, smiling at the girl’s happiness.
Gabriela looked contrite. “Sorry, Mother. Good evening. How was your day?”
“Fine, thank you. And yours?”
“Great!” She started jumping again. “Ariadne called me to say that her grandfather had invited us to Craigdale Castle. She says it’s huuuuuge.”
Sophia smiled at the excited girl. “Yes, dear. Alistair’s going to pick you up tomorrow before picking me up. Be ready by one thirty, all right?”
“Yes, I will. Mama, Uncle Felipe called. He’s going to call again tomorrow.”
Sophia took a long, luxuriant bath with Fragment di Perle bath salts by Simone Cosac Profumi. She blow-dried her hair and brushed it. She took special care with her eye makeup and dressed in a dark purple silk tank top and a matching pencil skirt. On her waist, she wore a dark brown Hermes belt with a silver H buckle. Bare legs. Her feet were encased in tall bronze sandals by Marc Jacobs. She sprayed perfume in the air and walked thought its cloud. She looked in the mirror and smiled at the young vibrant woman reflected there. Her smile broadened and she whirled on her heels, happy.
For a few moments, Sophia waited by the side gates before she saw Alistair’s car. Steven opened the gates for her and she left the cocoon of the garden for the street, turning and waving good-bye to the guard.
The purring sound of the Z4 engine reminded her of Gabriel. She suddenly felt sad.
Don’t go there, Sophia. This isn’t the time
.
Alistair noticed something wrong the moment he came out of the car.
“Hi, Beauty.” His mood was light and he kissed her for a long time. He entangled his fingers in her hair and his hands cupped her face, bringing it into the light. He noticed her moist eyes and frowned. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying.”
It is not fair to him
.
“All right, so you’re not crying.” He gently whipped her eyes. “Well, then. Tell me why are you sad?”
She smiled gloomily, “It’s nothing.”
He leaned on the car and pulled her between his legs, his arms around her waist. “I’m just as stubborn as you. We’ll stay here, freezing, until you tell me why you’re sad.”
“It’s really nothing. Don’t mind-”
“Ah-ah,” he put two fingers over her lips, shaking his head. “No lies. I know you. And the thing is: I mind.”
She sighed, “Memories.”
“Gabriel?” He felt a pang of jealousy in his heart.
She didn’t reply.
Damn, Sophia. At least, try
. She breathed deep, nodded her head, and shoved the memories to the bottom of her heart, and succeeded in giving him a bright smile. “But the sadness was gone the minute you arrived. Let’s go. I don’t want us to miss our reservation. I’m hungry.”
“I’m hungry, too.” He hauled her in his embrace and kissed her fiercely, imprinting his so ready erection on her belly. “But it’s not food I desire.”
Shoreditch. Boundary.
10.55 p.m.
“It’s impressive how you know these cozy and secluded restaurants,” Sophia remarked before placing the first spoon of her dessert in her mouth and closing her eyes to savor the chocolate soufflé with mixed berry sauce.
There she goes again. I shouldn’t have suggested a dessert
. “You don’t like it here?”
“Mmm. Uh-hmm,” she nodded, opening her eyes and licking the spoon, oblivious to the seductive way she ate dessert. “Very much. The Victorian warehouse is so carefully preserved. These alcoves are so charming. However, it’s dark and secluded, as sometimes your mood is.”
Oh, Sophia, I don’t think you know how dark I am
. “I’ll take you upstairs after. They have a stunning roof garden terrace with two olive trees over a hundred years old and a unique humidor. Do cigars bother you?”
She laughed. “I smoke cigars, Alistair. Cubans are my favorites.”
His eyes crinkled at the sides when his beautiful smile spread over his face. “Aren’t you a surprise, Sophia?”
“Of course I am. You still don’t really know me,” she shrugged and glanced at him sideways. “A good surprise, I hope.”
“Yes, a good surprise.”
But I want to know you, Sophia
. He shifted on the sofa and his scent clouded her senses.
“You smell so good, Alistair,” she breathed, the spoon forgotten in her hand.
He merely smiled at her praise and directed the spoon to her mouth, feeding her.
Mmm, Mr. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it is in the room
.
“I’ve never seen you smoke.”
“I don’t smoke in front of Gabriela. And I like company when I do it. There’s still a lot you don’t know about me and I don’t know about you.”
“Aye, there is,” he answered quietly, a strange look shimmering on his features.
He waited for her to finish her dessert to ask. “Give me your left hand and close your eyes.”
She eyed him with a teasingly distrustful look.
“Come on. Indulge me.” He wriggled his fingers in her direction. “First, give me your watch.” He put her Aeternitas watch carefully on the table. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now, close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so.”
She did as he asked and felt his warm hand circling her wrist. Something cold touched her skin and her eyelids fluttered.
“Ah-ah!” he warned, hastily stopping whatever he was doing and putting a hand over her eyes. “I’m not finished.”
Her forehead creased. “What’s taking so long?”
“It’s not every day I enslave a woman like you,” he said huskily. “Rather, I wonder if I ever have it or will ever do it again.”
“Liar,” she whispered, “you’ve already enslaved me.” She smiled, with her eyes closed.
“Not the way I want to.” It was a promise. “A few more seconds… Not yet…” She felt a cold bracelet being released on her wrist. “You can open your eyes.”
Alistair held her hand for her to look, her watch still on the table.
She looked at her wrist and then stared at him, astonished, her smile fading. “Alistair-”
What does he mean by that?
“You don’t like it,” he breathed, disappointed.
“No. I mean, yes. Damn.” She shook her head, staring at the Cartier Love collection bracelet in white gold, paved with diamonds and bigger diamond studs. “It is exquisite. I love it. I do.”
Sophia, this is a Cartier icon, a bracelet that symbolizes both love and possession. So the question is, what is the meaning behind this gift?
“It is beautiful,” she grinned at him. “It’s just that you surprised me with it.”
“Why?” He didn’t look convinced.
“This is a slave bracelet.”
“Aye, it is.” He cupped her face in his hands and gazed intently into her eyes. “And I’m keeping the screwdriver.”
How significant he turned a bracelet with a simple sentence
. “You are keeping it,” she repeated, totally ensnared by the beacon of his emerald eyes, she mused about the difference between Ethan’s and Alistair’s gifts. Ethan had showered her with extremely expensive presents just because he could. The gifts were a way to buy her affection. Now, Alistair was giving her a much simpler jewel, with so much emotion and meaning packed on it. And her thoughts turned to the similarities between Alistair and Gabriel, who always gave her meaningly gifts. “I’ll treasure it, Alistair Connor. Thank you.”
“Allow yourself to become one with me, Sophia. Let me possess you.” His lips hovered close to hers. “All of you.”
I need you, Sophia. Can’t you see?
His mouth descended on her and his tongue licked her bottom lip. As she parted her lips to breathe, he kissed her, heatedly, his hand on her nape, the other on her waist.
“Alistair Connor. We’re in a restaurant,” she whispered, escaping from the kiss. “What’s your problem with restaurants? Some fetish?”
He chuckled and shook his head, his hair softly swinging around his rugged face. “No, you’re my fetish. Sleep with me tonight.” He squeezed her nape. “Please.”
“No, I can’t. If you want me to go with you to Craigdale, I’ll have to wake up early and go to work.”
“Then stay with me in Craigdale.”
“In your room, you mean?”
He nodded.
“The first time I’m going to your father’s home? Of course not. I won’t feel comfortable.”
“Of. Course. Not.” He repeated slowly, rolling the words on his tongue. “Is this some kind of punishment, Sophia?” he asked her seriously.
“Punishment?” She asked, perplexed. “I don’t get you.”
“Do you want to punish me for something I did and you didn’t like? Is that it?”
Dominant or submissive, Beauty? What do you plead? Can you please decide?
“Do you want to see me on my knees? Begging? Because I’m almost there. I can switch once in a while with you, if you want me to.”
“Switch?” She frowned, “Switch what? I’m sorry, Alistair, I don’t understand what you’re saying. Be clear, please.” Sophia narrowed her eyes a bit and creased her forehead.
What the hell?
“The best way to get the right answer to something is to be direct and honest. What do you want to know?”