Sofia shook her head dumbly. “No, no…it’s Walter, I mean, Mr. Zacca. He called you see, and I didn’t know that he didn’t know about the…cancer. God, I am so sorry.”
Adria took a moment to process what Sofia was telling her. She nodded her head slowly. “It’s okay, it’s alright, dear.” She sighed and led Sofia to the couch. “Sit with me a moment.”
They sat in silence, Adria holding Sofia’s hand. Sofia studied the older woman with worried eyes. “Ms. La Loggia? I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am.”
“Darling, call me Adria, would you? Look, he had to know sometime.” She noticed Sofia was soaking wet. “Mio Dio, Sofia, you’re soaking. Let me get you a towel and some hot tea.”
Sofia was bemused. “I should be the one looking after you,” she said with a shake of her head and Adria laughed.
“Darling girl, I’m Italian. I wrote the book on taking care of loved ones.” Sofia flushed and Adria smiled at her. “I didn’t know Ivo had told you about my illness.”
“He didn’t…Clemence did, by accident. And I told Walter by accident. Dear lord, what a mess.”
“It’s my own fault,” Adria’s voice came from another room, then she was back with a towel. She handed it to a grateful Sofia, who smiled her thanks.
“Walter called the apartment looking for Ivo, and I was stupid enough to blab my mouth.” Sofia rubbed her face, glad she wasn’t wearing make-up. “I only asked him if he knew what I could do to make you feel better while you were having treatment.”
“You are very sweet.”
There was a cough from the bedroom and Adria grinned at Sofia’s shocked face. “Darling, a woman has needs. A nice uncomplicated hook-up with a distinguished gentleman. That, I can tell you, make me feel a whole lot better.”
Sofia started to laugh and soon Adria joined in. Sofia, forgetting she was talking to a movie star, held her hand up for a high-five which Adria, grinning, delivered. “Good for you.”
Adria hugged her. “I’m sorry I haven’t made the time to get to know you better, little one. My son is crazy about you, absolutely head over heels. We must spend more time together before I go back to the States.”
“I would like that very much. How is your treatment going?”
Adria’s smile faded. “Better than expected. Darling, there are some things I don’t want to discuss with anyone, I’m not being rude, it’s just, the more I dwell, the worse I feel.”
“I understand. Look, now I am here, can I do anything?”
Adria stood up. “You could order us some tea, while I go get dressed. I’ll let my friend know that I have a family visitor, and to come back later.” She gave Sofia a mischievous wink and Sofia grinned. Adria disappeared into the bedroom and Sofia heard low voices and laughter.
She went to the desk and looked for the room service menu. She had just found it when she heard Adria returning. “No, you can say hello, of course, we’re not kids sneaking around of course, but then I’d like to spend some time with my friend. Dinner, later?”
“I would like that.” A very familiar voice answered Adria and then they were in the room with Sofia.
Sofia froze, the shock icy cold. From his expression, Fergus Rutland was as stunned as she was. Sofia’s mind was a delirium of confusion and anger and she blurted out the first thing she could think of. “Dad?”
Fergus Rutland rocked back a little but steadied himself and tried to smile as Adria looked between them. “Hello, darling. My god, Sofia, it is good to see you.”
Sofia, to her eternal shame, burst into tears.
Chapter Sixteen
Sofia sat stiffly on the chair in Adria La Loggia’s suite, not looking at her step-father. Adria, realizing what the situation was, made them both sit. “Talk,” she ordered, giving Sofia a stern look, but also her hand squeezed her shoulder. She bent down to kiss Sofia’s cheek. “Just talk. If you get upset, I’ll be right in the next room, darling.”
Fergus cleared his throat now. “Thank you for giving me some time, Sofia.”
Sofia said nothing. Every time she looked at him, all she could see was the man who had abandoned her, who had disrespected her mother. Fergus was studying her.
“Sofia, I just wanted to say…I was wrong. I was wrong to throw you out. Especially on that day.”
Sofia gave a humorless snort. “Yes, because there’s always a good day to throw a person out of their home. I’m really not interested in apologies, Mr. Rutland, so you can save yourself the speech.”
She got up but Fergus raised a hand towards her. “Please, just a few moments and then you never have to see me again.”
Sofia hesitated then sat down. “Say what you need to, Mr. Rutland.”
Fergus gave her a half-smile. “It was Dad a little while ago.”
“A slip of the tongue. The Dad I knew died the day of my mother’s funeral.”
It was with satisfaction that she saw him flinch. “Sofia…I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I was almost half-crazy with grief and every time I saw you, I saw your mother. I think what she would have wanted, now, is for us to reconcile.”
“Just when I’m making my mark on the world. Such a coincidence.”
Fergus’s expression changed, became annoyed. “Nonsense.” He sighed. “Sofia…time has passed, I’ve healed. And I want my daughter back.”
“You have a daughter. That pit viper called Tamara. Do you honestly think I want anything to do with you – or her – after you couldn’t even show my mother the respect of burying her in the Rutland family plot? Humiliating her even after death and you expect me to believe you grieved for her?”
Fergus stood, his irritation obvious. “This is ridiculous. Sofia, you had no visa when you came here. You’re working here illegally. Come home with me now before you’re thrown out of the country. Or worse.”
Sofia stood too. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m merely stating a fact. Don’t you think your raised profile won’t attract the attention of the French immigration department?”
Sofia raised her chin. “Only if someone informs them. Are you saying you’ll go to them if I don’t come home with you?”
Fergus didn’t answer her but met her gaze. Sofia felt like screaming. “You bastard. I did what you asked. I went away and I would never have bothered you again. So why now? Because you can’t bear for me to be happy? You’re a sick fuck.”
She didn’t see the slap coming. Fergus’s hand connected with her face, full force, and Sofia staggered backward.
“Enough!” Adria was back, clearly having been listening. She got between them, her green eyes blazing, her anger a furious thing. “You. Get out, now. You never hit a woman, least of all someone who you abandoned.” The Italian woman was in Fergus’s face now, and he stepped back, alarmed. “Did you know Sofia nearly died? When she was living on the streets where you put her? Meningitis. No? You didn’t know that? Of course, you didn’t because you banished her! Get out, figlia di puttana!”
Fergus hesitated only for a second more, then, with a last glance at Sofia, grabbed his jacket and left. Sofia was trembling and Adria turned to her, her expression softening. She wrapped her arms around Sofia and hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry I asked you to talk to that…” She could barely spit his name out. “Darling, I promise you this now. You will not have to go home with him. We will work something out.”
Sofia closed her eyes. It had been such a long time since she had been held by a maternal figure, that she didn’t want it to end now. She felt as if the last year’s hurt and pain was running rampant through her body. “He’ll go to the authorities. He’ll get me kicked out of the country. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that he had spit in him. I never realized it when my mom was alive, but I guess Tamara got it from him.” She looked up, tears in her eyes, then felt embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Adria. My family drama is the last thing you need right now.”
“You are my family,” Adria kissed her temple. “Now, that
my dinner date has been shown the door, why don’t we go grab something and I’ll call Ivo.”
Sofia nodded. “I’d like that. But what about Walter?”
Adria sighed. “I called him and left a message. He’ll be fine, Sofia. Look, Walter and I…he is my best friend but sometimes I feel as if we need to have some kind of disconnect. We’ve been divorced for years and yet we are both guilty of cleaving to each other. Walter has a new lover, so he tells me and I want him to be free to pursue that without feeling as if my illness means he should be here.”
“I’m so sorry I blabbed it out like an idiot.” Sofia chewed her lips. “Now I think of it, I think Clemence thinks Walter knows too, from what she said.”
Adria shook her head. “No, Clemence did know Walter was in the dark. We discussed it at length. She knew Ivo was keeping it from you for the same reasons – he thought you had enough on your mind and I agreed. Clemence told you?”
Sofia nodded, suddenly feeling confused. “Why would she…I don’t understand why she would do that. Maybe…pregnancy brain?”
Adria smiled. “You’re being kind, but I think we both can guess what’s going on with Clemence. She’s jealous, Sofia. It’s almost time for the baby and she’s feeling emotional. It can’t be easy for her to see you with Ivo, especially when she sees how much in love the two of you are.”
Sofia felt her body relax at Adria’s words. The one thing she was sure of in this world was that Ivo loved her. “I often wonder how I got to be so blessed by having Ivo’s love. Your son is the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.”
Adria touched her cheek. “He is lucky to have you, Sofia. For a long time – and I didn’t see it for years – he was unhappy, or rather, he was trying to find his place in the world. When he was young, we fully expected him to follow us into the acting world. Given his looks, his charm, we thought he would be an even bigger star than his father. When he told us he didn’t want it, it was a strange moment, and I think ever since, he’s been trying to justify that ever since to us. What he doesn’t realize is, in our eyes, he became his own man that day and we couldn’t be prouder.”
A tear dropped down Sofia’s face at the love in Adria’s voice. “I will never hurt him,” she said, almost in a whisper. “Ever. He is my world.”
“I know you won’t, sweetheart.” Adria touched her cheek. “Now, I have to eat or I’ll fall over…no, it’s okay. How about we order room service and have a girl’s night? AT least until Ivo can drag himself away from work.”
Ivo came to meet her later on and smiled when he found both Sofia and his mother asleep on the huge couch, Sofia with her head on his mother’s shoulder. He woke Sofia gently and together they helped his exhausted mother to bed. Sofia kissed Adria’s cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Please do,” Adria took Sofia’s hand. “I had fun today, after the you know.”
“What was my mother talking about when she said ‘you know’?” Ivo asked her in the cab back to his hotel. Sofia told him about her step-father and his threats.
“The thing is, he is right. I could be deported at any moment.”
“Not while I’m breathing.” Ivo sounded angry and she stroked his face.
“We’ll figure it out. I’m too tired to worry about it for tonight.”
At his hotel, they showered together and then made love. In the early hours of the morning, Ivo woke Sofia, his green eyes alive with excitement.
“What is it, my love?” She said sleepily.
His smile was triumphant. “I know a way you can stay in the country entirely legally.”
Sofia was awake now. “Really? How?”
Ivo kissed her, his mouth firm on hers, his tongue caressing hers, until she had to break away to breathe. “It’s simple,” he said, “You just have to say yes to my next question.”
The merriment in his eyes made her giggle. “Okay, yes to whatever you’re about to ask.”
“Good,” Ivo said, his hands stroking her body, his fingers tracing a pattern on her belly. “Sofia Amory?”
“Yes, Ivo Zacca?” She was enjoying his game.
“Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Chapter Seventeen
He was tiring of waiting around for an opportunity to seduce Sofia Amory. Grant moved through the Parisian night, his senses sharp, searching, searching for someone who looked like her. Someone he could fuck and pretend was her.
He found her in a nightclub and she easily fell for his charm – like they all did.
Except Sofia. The few times he had seen her since the gallery opening, she had been friendly but always kept him at a distance. That fucker Zacca was always around and now, he hadn’t seen Sofia at the apartment building in weeks. Maybe she had moved in with him?
He had taken to hanging around the gallery but she had been a no-show there too. Where the fuck was she?
He could feel the obsession with Sofia roiling around his gut, day and night. Tamara had seemingly lost interest, barely acknowledging him when they spoke on the phone. He had stopped calling after a few days and she hadn’t called him back.
Little matter. She had proved useful enough – without Tamara, he would never have known Sofia existed. He thought about her constantly. Her soft curves, the inky black hair falling in a sheet across her shoulders, that perfect little face. Those deep dark eyes. It took everything he had in him to control himself when he was around her. He dreamed of fucking her, hearing her gasp his name as he drove her towards orgasm.
The night she and Zacca had fucked for everyone to see. The way her tits and her belly were pressed hard against the glass had taken Grant’s breath away. He wanted her, he needed to have her. He would have her – by force if necessary.
It fueled his fantasies now as he fucked the girl he’d picked up in the club. He took her to a motel which rented rooms by the hour – saw the disappointment when she saw it. She soon got over it when he started to kiss her. He managed to conjure up Sofia’s face as he thrust hard into the girl, ignoring her small cry of pain. Sofia was all her could see and as he came, he groaned her name over and over. He collapsed on the girl, who shoved him away.
“My name isn’t Sofia.” She got up, pulling her dress over her naked body and grabbing her purse and coat. After she slammed the door, Grant lay on his back, imagining he could hear her crying. He grinned. Be grateful you’re not Sofia, whore, because instead of finding a taxi home right now, you’d be bleeding to death, with my knife in your belly.
He went to sleep dreaming of Sofia, breathing her last in his arms.
Chapter Eighteen
“Married?” Clemence stared at Adria with distress and horror. No. It couldn’t be true. Ivo and Sofia were married?
“They didn’t want anyone to know until afterward,” Adria said gently. She took Clemence’s hand. “I know this must a shock, dear, but you must know by now – Ivo has moved on.”
Clemence felt a stone lodge in her throat and she looked away from Adria’s gaze. “I’m happy for him. For them.”
“Clemence, I know what you must be feeling. I know you told Sofia about my cancer against Ivo’s wishes. I’m going to pretend that wasn’t deliberate.”
Clemence flushed. “I can’t help myself. She’s so beautiful and kind and…he never looked at me the way he looks at her, Adria. It hurts. Especially when I’m carrying his child. I’m sorry.”
She dashed away the hot tears that were spilling down her cheeks. “I miss him. But the strange thing is, I actually like Sofia a lot. I can see they are perfect for each other. That just makes the pain worse.”
Adria hugged her tightly. “Darling, we are all family now. You still have your friend, you still have Ivo in your life. But it’s time to move on.”
When Clemence was alone, she sat at the window of her apartment in the Marias, and people-watched. Adria was right. She felt bad for putting Sofia in an awkward position, for setting her up to cause trouble. It was beneath her. Clemence hoped she could
salvage that friendship, when Ivo and Sofia returned from their honeymoon.
God. Honeymoon. Ivo was married. For the last time, Clemence allowed herself to mourn, weeping until she was exhausted and fell asleep.
When she woke, she decided that today would be the day she finally moved on.
Tamara waited until Penn Black left the apartment building before she went inside. She waited until he was driven away in a cab and there were no more than a few people on the street, then she slipped into the building, avoiding the cameras and quickly moving to the staircase. There was too much chance of her being spotted in the elevator’s. Penn lived on the top floor of the ten-story block – that much she had gleaned from him during one of their post-sex talks.
And it was sex – or even love-making now. No more Dom/Sub for them – it was now the beginnings of a full-blown relationship and Tamara could only see one obstacle to their being together. Penn’s girlfriend. The answer, to Tamara, was simple.
She knocked at the door and waited. Soon enough, a gorgeous young dark-haired woman opened the door and smiled at her. “Can I help you?”
“Hey there, I’m so sorry to bother you, but my friend lives downstairs and I can’t get her to open the door. I know she’s home, but she’s elderly and I’m concerned.”
“You mean Mrs. Kasovitch?”
Tamara nodded. “I know I shouldn’t panic but…”
“No, it’s okay. Actually, you came to the right door. I look after her cat when she’s away so I have a spare key.”
Tamara smiled. Bingo. “I hate to ask because I can see you’re pregnant and the elevator seems to be out of order.”
“Again? Dang it.” The woman grabbed a bunch of keys. “Damn thing is never working. Okay, it’s no problem. This little one needs some exercise anyway.” She wrapped a sweater around her shoulders. “Let’s go see Milly, check on her.”
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