Untamed Passion

by Cristiane Serruya

  She flicked her hand, diminishing her accomplishments.

  But he forged on, “Then you decided to help congressmen create a new law. In Brasília.”

  She shook her head, “I worked online mostly. Just once a week I went to Brasília with Gabriel. Whenever he went, I went with him. It was a good arrangement. Besides, I needed to check on the cases at the High Courts for the office I was working at.”

  “And the cherry on this huge cake? A pregnancy and a beautiful baby daughter.”

  By then, Alistair was ranting and not reasoning anymore.

  All the times he had awakened in the mornings and discovered she had sneaked away to work, he felt lied to. Cheated. Hurt.

  “Why? Because you don’t have to prove yourself? To whom? What for? Gabriel had enough money to support you. You alone, as an heiress, had enough money to enjoy a few months of less work, or no work at all. I don’t know why he let you run free at your own will. Have none of your therapists told you that you have PTSD?”

  “Wait! Wait a minute here. Now you’re faulting me because of Gabriela? I had a wonderful and healthy pregnancy, no health problems whatsoever. And I don’t have a disorder. Not PTSD, nor OCD, Alistair Connor. I have normal reactions to great traumas, which is quite different.” She frowned, not understanding why he was accusing her so poignantly and unfairly. “Those things really happened to me. I didn’t dream them. I lost my parents, so what better thing to do? Study. It was that or rebellion and drugs. I had to dedicate myself to something no one could take away from me and kept me steady. What better way than with books? And Gabriel, Gabriel was special. Then I lost a grandmother a few months before Gabriela was born. I was shot twice. My husband was kidnapped. My in-laws drugged me. I lost my husband—” She moved to the edge of the chair, surprising him.

  He looked down at her hands which were gripping the bamboo arms of her chair. Her knuckles were white. Oh, fuck! “Calm down. I didn’t—”

  “You started. Let me finish,” she said curtly. “And eleven men were killed because of my immaturity. And you know what? I wanted them all dead, but I was not courageous enough to demand it. It happened anyway.” Her voice had risen and she was off the chair, her knees slighty bent, looking him in the eyes. “And it didn’t bring Gabriel back. As a punishment, I had my daughter taken from me. By policemen, crying and screaming. I had to flee my own country in a very bad state of physical and mental health. I don’t know how I did it, but I did it. I started living under a pseudonym, hiding! In a new country. I’ll be forever grateful to Edward for helping me adjust again, and of course—” to Ethan.

  His face darkened as if he knew what she was going to say, but he had himself under control so quickly she thought she had imagined it.

  Ethan does not need to pop up here. For an instant she lost her train of thought, but she quickly returned to it. “But, of course, all I ever did was go to Leibowitz Oil and return home. My life was nothing but work and Gabriela. I existed no more. I didn’t even go to my grandfather’s or Felipe’s wife’s burial. Felipe spent what seemed like an eternity in the hospital. And still I stayed in hiding. I only went to visit him during Carnival, when I was sure my in-laws were traveling abroad. I was afraid, frightened of stepping out of the boundaries I had set; of returning to Brazil and being discovered. We were taught that we had to be the best at what we did and not bow under difficulties.” She didn’t notice but she was almost shouting. “As long as I had time to be with Gabriela in the mornings and in the afternoons, as long as I got to put her to bed, I strained myself with business work and exercise. Until I was so, so very tired that I could hardly drag myself back to bed praying for sleep without nightmares or screams!”

  Alistair Connor, what have you triggered?! He chided himself. Without him noticing, his hands had covered hers, and he had leaned toward her. “Stop, Sophia. It’s okay, it’s all right.”

  “So what if I have a few accomplishments? A few badges of honor for myself? Things that couldn’t be taken away from me so easily? Things that filled my broken heart and didn’t let me ask too often, why me? WHY ME?!” she shouted. She took a deep breath. “So, what if I tried to be perfect?! Yes! The perfect daughter to honor my parents’ memories. The perfect granddaughter because my grannies lost what they held more precious in life. The perfect wife for Gabriel who treated me like a queen. And the perfect mother, because Gabriela was not responsible for anything wrong or bad that had happened to me. I had to be.” She leaned back, panting. “I have to be.”

  “Calm down,” he shushed. He knelt before her, his warm hands rubbing her arms up and down and up again, settling in her feminine shoulders.

  “Mine are normal reactions to abnormal events. Who told you I have a disorder?”

  Tavish Uilleam suggested it. Maybe more for my sake than yours. “No one. I was just trying to understand. I’m worried, Sophia.” Still not completely convinced, he cupped her face in his hands, the tip of his fingers massaging her temples and he kissed her on the corner of her lips. “I don’t want you to be perfect. Perfect women are boring. Perfect wives are even more boring. You make mistakes and there is nothing wrong with that. Be imperfect.”

  “Alistair Connor,” she sighed, tired of the discussion. “As each new trauma piled on top of old ones, they started to push me down again. To get out of...this hole is hard and painful. Sometimes, it feels as if…I’m digging myself out of a coffin with six feet of earth piled over it,” she finished with a whisper, laying her head in the hollow of his neck and shoulder.

  “I know the feeling,” he said quietly as his arms went around her, and her breath softly fanned his skin.

  “Why did we even start talking about PTSD? We’re on our honeymoon.” She breathed in his scent. Sublime Alistair Connor.

  “We were discussing your work schedule,” he explained. He could feel her puckering her straight nose against his neck and knew she was rolling her eyes at him.

  “I’ll revise my schedule at LO but not at the Foundation. Don’t ask me to do more.”

  Hmm. He smiled at the ease with which she gave in after such an outburst to stand her ground. A cell phone in the living room started ringing but he ignored it. “We could do it together and I could make some suggestions—”

  Not a chance. The phone continued to ring. Grateful for the break, she informed him, “It’s yours.”

  “Fuck. Can’t the bank leave me alone for a few hours?” he muttered, and checked his watch. He frowned, worried. It’s almost three o’clock in the morning in London. “I’ll be right back.”

  She gave him a wan smile. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “You better.” He kissed the tip of her nose and went inside.

  When he grabbed the phone, his brows came down as he saw Edward’s number on it. “MacCraig.”

  “Is Sophia near you?” Edward wasted no time with greetings.

  “Nae. Is—” He choked. A sudden panic made Alistair’s heart speed up. He couldn’t voice the words.

  Edward understood the unspoken sentence. “Gabriela is all right. But you have to come back. I waited till now because I knew nothing could be done sooner. Yesterday, the Leibowitzes succeeded in guaranteeing a hearing at the High Court. They have an order from the Brazilian Supreme Court to question Sophia about Gabriela’s welfare. In addition, they are requesting the right to visit her and have shared custody. This was probably what he was doing when Sophia saw him in the street a few months ago.”

  Fuck! “Aye, I remember.”

  “They are also claiming that Sophia abducted Gabriela before the custody case was judged. I already have all the best lawyers on it to delay the hearing but Sophia needs to come back. They have agreed to discuss a settlement, but only if it’s done today. How they know she is traveling and Gabriela is here with the twins, I don’t know!” Edward breathed harshly on the other side of the line. “Alberto is really pressing the case. They are asking for the right to take their granddaughter, as she is alone. And I’m not sure that
Sophia can stop them. If you leave in the next hour, you’ll arrive just in time for her to talk and prepare Gabriela to receive them.”

  Alistair looked at his watch. “We’ll be in London no later than one o’clock. Davidoff, schedule a meeting for one-thirty at LO. Try for an agreement, welcoming both today. Settle on a three-hour visit to start with. Um…Two-thirty. At Atwood House, so Gabriela can adapt. No outings yet, but leave the possibility open as a sign of good will.” Sophia will never allow it.

  “Don’t you think Sophia should have a say in the matter?”

  Alistair could hear Edward’s surprise on the other side of the line. He had disliked Sophia’s father-in-law instantly, but had a better impression of his wife. “I’m sure Rose will be welcomed after the initial shock. Sophia will understand she has no other choice.”

  “Well, yeah. I’ll do my best. An agreement will surprise their lawyers and keep them off her for a while.” Edward hesitated for a heartbeat. “MacCraig. Broach the subject with care. Alberto has made her life hell for a long time now.”

  “Don’t worry. Draft the final agreement with a confidentiality clause. If they leak anything to the press, the deal is off.”

  Edward let out an irritated whistle. “You demand a lot, MacCraig. The lawyers said we don’t have much room to maneuver.”

  “I’ll be there with Leonard Allenthorp. We’ll get what we want.” He ended the call not entirely confident. Shit.

  He texted Muir to get the plane ready for them. He stepped onto the terrace trying to decide how to start telling her about Alberto, but Sophia wasn’t there anymore. “Sophia?”

  “I’m here.” Her voice came from the bedroom.

  He paused at the door frame, watching her swallow a pill and some water. “Headache?”

  “Forming.” She gave him a small smile when he sat by her side.

  It will get worse. “Mo chridhe, we have to go back.”

  “Anything wrong at the bank?” she asked concerned, immediately rising from the bed to pack.

  “Nae.” He put his hands on her waist and seated her on his thigh. He turned her face to his and said softly, “Sophia, Gabriela is fine and no one is hurt. I don’t want you to get nervous.” Her face paled instantly. “But you’re needed back in London. Your in-laws—”

  “No!” Panic flared through her and she fisted his T-shirt in her hands. “No. I won’t let them take—”

  He put a finger on her lips. “Listen to me. They just want to see her. Davidoff is taking care of it. He’s trying to set a private meeting with their lawyers—”

  “You don’t know him. He’s a manipulator, evil. He’s doing this out of spite. She…she’s terrified of him.”

  His arms went around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. “He may be. But you and Gabriela have a team by your side. Davidoff, Leonard, Tavish Uilleam, my father, all of your Cambridge friends, your lawyers. And of course, leading them all, me. I’m sure Rose is innocuous. Put yourself in her shoes, Sophia.”

  “Rose, I can stand, but not him,” she whispered.

  “Both to start with. Hopefully, in time, he’ll lose interest in her.”

  “I will—”

  “Nae,” he stated firmly. “You’re not doing anything. Nothing. You have a steady home with a loving husband. You’re Sophia MacCraig now. I won’t let anyone touch a strand of your hair. Let alone hurt your feelings. There’s nothing they can do to take Gabriela away from you.”

  “I’m not so sure…” But I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to open my house to the man that killed Gabriel. However, Sophia knew that they had her cornered now. She sighed, defeated. “I don’t want to see him. Every time I do, I lose it. I want to call him every foul word I know, to scratch his eyes out, to rip his beating heart out of his chest.”

  He almost smiled at the image she was drawing. “I’m going to the meeting on your behalf and I’ll be at your side when you meet them. Let me help you this time and I promise you, you won’t regret it. We’ll face it together and win. Proudly, without lowering ourselves to Alberto Leibowitz’s level. Promise?”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  This time, he smiled at her. “Seems we have been exchanging a lot of promises these last few days.”

  “Yes, it does,” she whispered, “I hope they last.”

  “They will. And our honeymoon need no’ be a once in a lifetime experience either. We can do it over and over again, every time you come back to these magical islands. And we’ll bring Gabriela next time.” He sealed the assertion with a soothing kiss on her forehead. “Now move, we have to get back.”

  Chapter 35

  London, Kensington, Kensington Palace Gardens

  Atwood House

  2:13 p.m.

  Alistair was sitting on Gabriela’s bed watching Sophia zip up her daughter’s dress and sit her on the light pink plush chair of her vanity table.

  He could see she was tense, but she was fighting it as she bit her lower lip with so much force that he worried she was going to split it. This was the only sign that her nerves were wound tight.

  For Gabriela’s sake, she was behaving extremely well since they had arrived in London at twenty past twelve in the afternoon.

  She didn’t say or do much on their nine hour flight back.

  He didn’t try to push her either. He held her in his arms on the stateroom bed and comforted her as best as he could until she fell into a serene slumber for the last few hours.

  Now she was recounting to Gabriela every story she could remember about their trip.

  “The capitals we visited, Bangkok, Hanoi, and Ho Chi Min are like ants nests, with millions of people moving around; on motorbikes, bicycles and cars, and they don’t seem to follow any traffic rules.”

  “Really, Mama? Why? Are they crazy?” Gabriela asked, stretching one tiny foot for Sophia to slip on a short frilled cotton sock and then a lovely white shoe with white gauze roses on the cap.

  “Oh, no,” Sophia said, repeating the process on the other foot. “It’s as if the streets are alive. With people literally living there—eating, sleeping, and chatting with their neighbors.”

  Gabriela’s eyes widened. “They live in the streets? They don’t have houses?!”

  Alistair laughed at that. “Nae, Fairy. They have houses from where particular and delicious smells come out—like your mother’s spicy and hot peppers. More like the unknown powders she puts in her cauldron when she’s doing magic in her kitchen, understand?”

  “I don’t have a cauldron.” Sophia made a face at Alistair.

  He looked at Gabriela and whispered, “Careful, she’s a witch.”

  Gabriela’s giggles filled the room. She asked, “Does she fly on a broom, too?”

  “There,” Sophia said, smiling, after she tied a silk ribbon on her daughter’s blonde ponytail. “What do you think, Alistair Connor?”

  “My fairy princess is enchanting,” he answered.

  Gabriela did look cute in her sleeveless Dior bluish-gray and pink striped printed dress. But no dress, shoes, or ribbon could mask the fear that suddenly reappeared in the little girl’s sky-blue eyes.

  He knelt beside Sophia and picked up Gabriela by the waist, lowering her from the chair to stand face to face with them. She seemed so little and afraid that he could relate to Sophia’s wish to spare the child from the visit.

  He grabbed her small hands in his, fixing her with a soft gaze. “It’s just a visit. Your grandparents miss you.”

  “I don’t miss them, Daddy. I hate them.” Her mouth transformed in a lovely pout.

  “Now, now, my angel,” Sophia said firmly. “This is not what we have agreed to. Maria will be with you and they will behave because she understands Portuguese and English.”

  “And if they talk French? She won’t understand.”

  Sophia sighed. “They won’t speak French in front of her and you don’t know French enough to keep a steady conversation.”

  Gabriela had been conco
cting all possible excuses not to see her grandparents. From a stomach ache to feeling feverish; from not remembering them anymore to feigning sleep.

  Sophia almost gave up the whole thing when her daughter started crying and sobbing under the shower, gripping her neck and babbling that they would take her away again.

  “Gabriela, you don’t need to be afraid. Maria, Zareb, and Devon will be at the garden, your mother will be in the kitchen baking our favorite chocolate cake,” Alistair raised his eyebrows playfully at her, “and I’ll be just inside the home office, by the glass window. Anything at all, you just signal to any of us, all right?”

  But not even the mention of the chocolate cake made a smile appear on her face. She stretched her arms to Sophia and hugged her neck fiercely. “I don’t understand. Why can’t Mama be with me?”

  Sophia sighed for the umpteenth time that long morning, rising from the floor with Gabriela in her arms. Because they don’t like me and I don’t like them.

  “Because they want to have all their time only with you,” Alistair answered.

  “My angel, they are your father’s parents. Gabriela…do it for him. He’ll be happy.”

  The little girl looked at her mother with confusion in her eyes. “Do you think Father will know? That he will be happy?”

  “I’m sure,” Sophia nodded. “Your father will be very happy if you like his mother, Grandma Rose.”

  Alistair cleared his throat and discreetly shook his head at his wife.

  Sophia unwillingly completed, “And your grandfather, Alberto.”

  “I don’t like manipulating her,” Sophia said as she watched Gabriela through the window of the home office.

  Christ, Sophia! “Manipulating?! You didn’t manipulate her.”

  “I told her Gabriel would be glad to see her with his parents. Do you have another name for it?”