Entwined Fates

by Cristiane Serruya

  “Aye, it’s better if you start learn—”

  Oh, please. She grabbed him by the velvet lapels and pulled him for an open-mouthed, scorching kiss.

  He fell to his knees and his arms went around her, hauling her flush to his body, the shahtoosh, and his crop dropping from his hands behind her.

  He was breathing heavily when she stopped the kiss.

  She shoved the armchair back and jumped off it with an agile movement. “Dream on, my lord,” she sang, and ran away from him, waving, “Dream on!”

  Alistair watched dumbfounded as Sophia flew through the door, leaving him kneeling in the room. He picked up the fallen items and looked at them, daftly.

  Unbidden, a smile spread on his lips and his sun shone brighter than it had in many months.

  3:22 p.m.

  Sophia pushed open the doors to the pool lounge and looked around, searching for Alistair or Alice but there was no one. She entered the artfully decorated room. Palm trees in earthenware pots were placed around the high-ceilinged room. The remoteness of the place appealed to her.

  She took off her gold and diamond H. Stern Havaianas and lay down on the reclining chair, then switched on her Kindle. With the soft music playing in the background, she became engrossed in the story.

  Tavish cleared his throat, disgusted by the woman in her small bikini and barely there styled transparent jacket lying on the chair.

  Looking up, Sophia viewed two strong legs wearing long Vilebrequin shorts in a Bengal tiger print. A blue linen long-sleeved opened shirt showed off a spectacular torso with sculptured abs, broad chest, and wide shoulders. Hot.

  She lifted her gaze and became acutely conscious of Tavish’s turbulent stare taking in her Adriana Degreas bikini and how his brows were lifted with scorn. Oh, please, spare me. I’m not in the mood for a bullying, rugged giant right now.

  “There’s a shop upstairs that sells clothes and bathing suits,” he snorted.

  My bikini is just fine, Lord Bully. You should see the real skimpy Brazilian bikinis. Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward, but didn’t utter a word and turned back to her Kindle.

  “So, what’s your plan? This feigned naïve behavior doesn’t fool me. No innocent young woman would hang around Alistair.”

  What? Why not? She raised her brows at him and lifted her Kindle to avoid his stare, giving him the cold shoulder.

  “Oh, nae,” he said, walking to her side. “Ye won’t dismiss me as if you dinna understand a word of what I’ve just said. I won’t be dismissed by someone like ye.” Then he sat by her thigh.

  Such a bold move startled Sophia. She snapped her Jimmy Choo Kindle cover shut and put it on the table with a grim look on her face. She rose from her lounge chair, spine stiff, asking, “Someone like me?”

  He stood up carefully and circled the reclining chair. As he walked toward her, attempting to maintain a nonchalant pose, Sophia noticed his slight limp.

  Pity filled her heart, but she stuffed it deep down in her irritation.

  “Why are ye here?” Tavish hissed at her. “Aren’t ye like the others?”

  “What cryptic questions, my lord.” Her voice was icy. “I came because of your father’s invitation. And how would I know how the others behaved? I can understand your words, but your manner of questioning must be old Scottish. Maybe it’s derived from your ancient barbaric Picts’ ways of torture, because I can’t make heads or tails of it. And quite frankly…” She lifted one eyebrow at him. “I don’t care.”

  She put on her sari and stepped away from him toward the door, too angry to care about her bag, Havaianas, and Kindle.

  “Stop!” He gripped her left arm. “I want tae talk tae ye.”

  “But I don’t,” she answered, moving her arm brusquely away from his grip. She winced as a shock of pain lashed through it.

  “What are ye planning, Mrs. Leibowitz? I want tae know why ye really came here. Ye doona need his money.”

  “Pardon?” she asked, flabbergasted. Breathe, Sophia, breathe. Remember your promise to Alice.

  “Do ye want the title? His international status? Want a replacement for yer late husband? A man tae father yer daughter?”

  Sophia’s face fell at the aggressive and incoherent accusations. She looked straight ahead at the glass windows, focusing on the view of the extensive lawns outside, inhaling and exhaling deep and loud. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

  “Coward,” he muttered under his breath. “Just like the others.”

  Her eyes darkened. She turned her head slowly to look at him, her chin high. “Did you just call me a coward?”

  “I did. Go ahead,” he taunted. “Run back tae the arms of your dark lover and complain about my fucking bad manners.”

  Go screw yourself, Lieutenant-Colonel-Doctor-Lord-Arrogance. No one talks about my family like that. Or calls me a coward. After everything I’ve been through, that is one thing I am not. Her anger bubbled and spilled, and she fisted her hands, trying to control her temper. “Oh, you do have bad manners, my lord. And your language is deplorable.” She stomped toward him and whipped her neck back to look at his face. She felt a joint crack with her sharp movement. Damn. Does he have to be so tall? “I don’t need a replacement husband. Gabriela and I are doing just fine. And I don’t look for anyone’s protection.” I’m going to show you who is the coward here.

  Tavish’s face showed his surprise. None of Alistair’s other women would have the audacity to confront him. “Really? So what do ye want?”

  “Let me make some things clear, my lord,” she spat the words, past all reason, taunting him. “I don’t like this bullying of yours. I don’t understand what I’ve done to prompt such antagonism. But you know what? I don’t give a damn. I’ve had enough of your abuse. Do you think you can go around throwing unfair accusations or creating scenes just because you were a prisoner of war? Do you? Well, let me tell one thing. You’re still alive and you have to live the best way you can. I won’t take pity on you. And people will tire of your wailings.”

  Tavish didn’t even flinch, his jaw locked so hard he thought he might break his teeth.

  She stepped in his direction, furious, and invaded his personal space, poking at his chest. “Come on, man up. Look around. There are people suffering much worse than you.”

  He narrowed his eyes, struggling to decipher the enraged woman before him. “And what would ye know about real life, Mrs. Leibowitz? So rich, so pampered.”

  “As if,” she snorted. “My lord, you have no idea what I know about life. But you’re not going to see me complaining or judging others unfairly. You want to be miserable, be miserable. By yourself. Don’t bother the ones who are trying to rebuild their lives. Leave your brother and me alone.”

  He bared his teeth at her in an animalistic gesture. “But that’s no’ what ye want, is it, Mrs. Leibowitz? Ye can fool all of them, but ye doona fool me. This time, I won’t let Alistair and our family be hurt.”

  This guy is really crazy. “Huh?”

  “I see the way ye look at me. Ye find me hot.”

  His words left Sophia astounded. I think you are handsome, yes, but in the same way, I find my brother handsome. Observation of beauty. She opened her mouth and shut it again, without uttering a word.

  “Ye want me too. Ye want us both.”

  “What?”

  “Aye, Alistair and me. In yer bed. Fuck—”

  Sophia slapped him hard. “Enough!”

  He backed away, unsteady, and put his hand on his burning cheek.

  “You’re arrogant, presumptuous, and sick. I don’t know where you got that disgusting idea from. And I don’t have to listen to you.” She turned, determined to leave the pool lounge just as the doors opened and Alistair, Alice, and Leonard entered, laughing.

  Alice was the first to notice the strained air between Sophia and her brother. She paled.

  Leonard stopped mid-stride.

  Surprise flickered on Alistair’s face.

  And Sophia froz
e in place.

  “What’s going on here?” Alistair asked ominously when he saw Sophia’s hand imprinted on Tavish’s cheek. “Tavish Uilleam?”

  Sophia looked over her shoulder at Tavish. It appeared that he had no intention of answering his brother and Sophia wondered why.

  Tavish looked thoughtfully at her for a second, as if waiting for a response from her, then finally said, “A…misunderstanding.”

  “Sophia?” Alistair walked up to her, scowling.

  She studied Alistair’s stance and recalled Alice’s plea and her pledge in return. I stood my ground and said my piece. She peered at the red mark on Tavish’s face and smiled, unbidden. Yeah, I said my piece all right. Feeling lighter, she decided to let it go. “It’s as he said. A misunderstanding.”

  Tavish shoved his brother aside, his eyes a deep, green well of emotion. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to him and whispered, “I’m sorry. I mistook ye for someone else.”

  Sophia’s eyes opened wide. The gesture and words were so unexpected and confounding. She glanced at Alistair.

  He stood rooted to the ground, watching the scene, with his lips tightened in a harsh line.

  “Apology accepted,” she whispered back, then disengaged from his hold to walk to Alistair’s side and put her arm around his waist.

  Alistair put his arm loosely over her shoulder.

  Before one of them could say a word, Alice blurted out, “What a beautiful outfit, Sophia.”

  “Thanks. Felipe brought the fabric from India, and Victoria made it for me.” She inhaled quietly, trying to calm her emotions. “She is studying fashion design at the Polimoda Institute in Florence.”

  “There’s a wonderful fashion school in London, too. Our mother studied there.” Alice caught her hand and pulled her to the farthest reclining chair, sitting by her. “Why did she choose Florence?”

  “Oh, you know how twins are. Valentina was awarded a scholarship at Lorenzo de’ Medici, where she studies art and interior design, so Vic followed. She wanted to go to Paris but Val didn’t want to lose her scholarship because she is not so sure of what she wants to be, and there she has a range of subjects to choose from.”

  Alice stared into Sophia’s eyes and asked in a whisper, “What happened, Sophia?”

  “Nothing, Alice. Nothing.” No need to upset her.

  “He must have—”

  “He apologized. It’s all fine.” After a silent minute, Sophia tilted her head and asked, “He said,”—she made quotes in the air—“he mistook me for someone else. What did he mean by that?”

  “Sophia, Heather was…” Alice sighed and waved her hand in the air, forlornly. “She was despicable. Tavish Uilleam hated her. From the very beginning.”

  “But what happened to make him hate her so much?”

  “I don’t know. They were best friends, Alistair Connor and Tavish Uilleam. But Alistair Connor didn’t heed his advice, stubborn as he is. He was young and in love.” She shook her head, dejected. “She was a ravishing seductress. Men fell at her feet like leaves in autumn. Alistair Connor was the richest and most handsome of them all. She trapped him in her diseased, dark net.”

  Sophia’s jealousy raged so that the two last sentences didn’t register.

  So, Heather was Aphrodite. And Alistair had been in love with her. She felt her heart constrict in her chest with sadness, for him and for herself. You know how it goes, Sophia. That is why he doesn’t want another serious relationship. He probably misses her still. Sophia tilted her head to the side and looked thoughtfully at the three men talking at the other side of the pool. She only saw Alistair.

  Alistair caught her looking at him and flashed his stunning smile at her.

  How will I measure against his first love?

  Chapter 28

  Hand in hand, Sophia and Alistair strolled in the gardens, heading toward the maze; the sun just beginning to set. The sky started to color pink and orange, turning an already lovely landscape into a superlative vista.

  “Your brother is quite the contradiction,” she said, hesitantly, her hand brushing the trimmed leaves of the cypress hedges that formed the enormous and tall maze. “He’s mean one moment, then nice the next. Threatening one moment, then protective. He’s so difficult to figure out. Even with you, he has mercurial moods.”

  “He’s distrustful of you and it’s my fault.” He scowled. “Give him some time to know you. He’ll come around.”

  “And in spite of his rudeness, there is something…something that makes me like him. He’s intelligent, creative, and caring. He’s very protective of your family. But he’s also very stern.”

  “You’d have liked the Tavish Uilleam from before the war. He was quick-witted, always high-spirited. He used to make everyone around him laugh.” He sighed. “Now, he’s blue and serious.”

  “What happened?”

  “He never talks about it with us.” He shook his head, sorrowfully. “All we know is, he was captured during an ambush, and held prisoner of war for months. Him—and his girlfriend—were captured. She was beheaded. He was shot in the thigh as he escaped and then rescued by a special-ops team.”

  “Oh, my god!” Sophia gasped. “And he doesn’t talk about that? At all?”

  “Nae,” Alistair answered as he sat beside her on a bench in the middle of the maze. “He sees his shrink in London, twice a week, but that’s all.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Aye, me too.” He sighed.

  She turned, resting her upper leg and knee on the bench and he put an arm around her shoulders, entwining the hair that fell over it in his fingers.

  “It should be forbidden to be so handsome.” She raised her fingers, brushing his lashes and his eyebrow.

  How can such a simple, gentle touch be so arousing? Alistair felt his whole body stir with that simple caress and he smiled down at her. “Should it?”

  Yes! “Those green eyes of yours put the leaves of the Amazon Forest to shame. And your dark lashes make them even more startling.” She cupped his face, sliding a finger over his nose and square jaw slowly. “Your regal nose,” and down her finger went, “your mouth. Everything about you is rugged, earthy. You’re…breathtaking.”

  “You’re stealing my lines. What am I supposed to say now?” He framed her face with his hands and his head bent, studying her. “Let’s go to my room. Or yours.”

  She blinked, feeling burned by his scorching gaze. “Alistair, don’t insist.”

  “I want you, Sophia. Badly.” His lips brushed hers, caressing smoothly, before lightly pressing his tongue on the seam of her lips. “You’ve turned me into a greedy, hungry beast.” Beauty and the beast. It figures.

  “I can give you a taste.” She opened to him like a flower seeking water and closed her eyes to enjoy all the passion he put in a simple kiss.

  Alistair’s lips were warm, soft, unyielding, and demanded total surrender.

  “I don’t want a taste. I want it all.” His hands released her face to wander over her shoulders and slowly down her body to find her breasts and palmed them over her cashmere sweater.

  Her hands sought his shoulders for support arching her back.

  “You’re like velvet, like silk,” he said between kisses and buried his face on her neck. “Say yes.”

  “Good things come…”—her head fell back, giving him total access to her throat—“to those who wait. Patience is a virtue, Alistair.”

  “I’m patient, but I’m no saint,” he murmured before smashing her lips into his with a savage kiss.

  When he broke it, he raised his head to look at her. His kiss left her panting with reddened and swollen lips. He couldn’t resist the vision of beauty in front of him; grabbing her by the hips, he made her straddle him.

  Sophia blinked, looking dizzy with lust from the kisses and the heady thrill. “We’re outside.”

  “God won’t be offended,” he whispered back, dragging up her burgundy sweater with one hand as the other cupped
her ass and yanked her tightly against him, grounding her against his erection. “You’re heaven, you’re paradise.”

  “This is blasphemy,” she teased in a hoarse voice. She leveled herself on his steel-like shoulder, moaning when his teeth nipped her earlobe, her fingers tangled in his silky hair. Sophia drank greedily from his mouth, stealing his breath away.

  “Nae, it’s no.’ It’s gospel.” His right hand snaked under her Emilio Pucci tank top. His deft left hand popped open the button of her leather pants and pulled down the zipper, touching her smooth, flat stomach.

  She made a low, long, gasping sound.

  He smiled, devilishly. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, moving his mouth over her jaw to capture her mouth again in a hard kiss, coaxing the responses he wanted from her.

  Sophia lost herself in so many sensations. They started to move together, lust taking control. She felt his erection harden even more.

  His fingers touched her lace and satin panties and he growled in her mouth, the sound a rumble in his chest.

  Sophia started and broke the kiss, gasping. Disengaging from the embrace, she stepped away unsteadily, breathing heavily and adjusting her clothes back into place.

  Alistair rose and stood behind her, his arms hugging her waist, bringing her to lean on him. She could feel his raging erection on her back. Her head fell to the side, nestling between his chest and arm.

  “Shhh, it’s okay.” He rested his face on her cheek. “I told you, we’re alone.”

  “That’s not it. I’m not that kind of woman. I don’t make out in public or…” She shook her head as she remembered Tavish’s and Alice’s earlier words. “You’re mistaking me for someone else.”

  “I’m not mistaking you for anyone else. I just got carried away,” he said, nonplussed, turning her in his embrace to face him. “We got carried away.” So, what kind of woman are you, Sophia? He bent his head and he whispered in her ear, “Don’t play coy with me.”

  “I’m not pretending,” she snapped at him, shoving both hands in her hair. “I’m confused.”