Entwined Fates

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Entwined Fates Page 39

by Cristiane Serruya


  His hand caressed her long hair. “I love you, mo chridhe.”

  “What?”

  He smiled. He hadn’t noticed he’d spoken in Gaelic. “You, Sophia, are mo chridhe. My heart.”

  “Mo chridhe,” she experienced the words on her tongue. “I like that.”

  An unrecognizable desire to be with her forever surged through him and he didn’t try to order his emotions that felt completely out of control, a strange happiness filling his heart.

  It wasn’t only her exquisite face or her sexy body that had drawn him to her. It was her incredible spirit and way of confronting life.

  It was her hope for a better life in spite of all she—and he—had suffered.

  Sophia is not my second chance. She is my heavenly gift.

  After a few minutes, she kissed his chest, rose from the bed, and walked to the glass doors, stretching, entwining her arms above her head.

  “Mmm. It’s a beautiful day.” She turned to him with a satisfied smile on her lips. “I’m hungry. Can you call for our breakfast, please? With coffee. Espresso, of course.”

  Life suddenly had possibilities as new and bright as the sun shining outside. He sighed happily, picked up the phone from the bedside table, and asked for the delivery of their breakfast.

  Alistair watched her young face as she raised it toward the gentle winter sun and he made a firm decision in that moment. She, I will trust.

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  Chapter 1

  London, The City, Victoria Embankment

  The City of London Bank Headquarters

  Monday, March 15, 2010

  9:08 a.m.

  “Alistair Connor!” Tavish snapped his fingers in front of his brother’s face. “Wake up, dammit.”

  Alistair looked at his younger brother and blinked away the thoughts of Sophia’s naked body. “I’m awake, can’t you see?”

  “Then…”—he smirked—“should we call them in or not?”

  Alistair rubbed a hand on his nape and looked sheepishly at Tavish. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve got it bad, man.” A broad smile split Tavish’s rugged face and he even chuckled. “I never thought I’d see the mighty Alistair Connor daydreaming.”

  “I’m not the mighty Alistair Connor. And I wasn’t daydream—” he interrupted himself and smiled. “Okay, I was. She’s everything a man could wish for, Tavish Uilleam.” His grin turned almost idiotic with happiness.

  “Have you told her about Heather?”

  Alistair’s smile waned. “Fuck. You had to spoil it, Tavish Uilleam.”

  “You ‘ave told her about your preferences?”

  “She is too innocent and—” Alistair sighed. “The truth is I’m afraid of scaring her away.”

  “She has the right tae know, Alistair Connor. Or is she worth a change?”

  “She’s worth everything. Anything.” He looked toward the huge windows of his office, his gaze distant. But I hurt her. I can never apologize enough.

  “But?” Tavish tilted his head, studying Alistair’s face. “Alistair Connor, I really think you should see a therapist. If she’s half what Alice told me…” He looked his brother in the eye. “She won’t abide your sexual orientation.”

  “Have you been talking about Sophia behind my back?” Alistair’s mood darkened. “What is your interest in her?”

  He sustained the dark stare. “None. My interest rests on you. And our family. I won’t see another Heather—”

  Alistair banged his fist on the table startling his brother. “Sophia is nothing like Heather.”

  “Okay, okay.” Tavish put his hands up. “I know that now.” He stood up and put both hands on the desk, leaning toward his brother. “But do you? Are you ready to be in a relationship with her? A real, normal relationship? Is she strong enough tae avoid turning into another Heather? Or are ya going to degrade her like Heather did with you?”

  London, The City, Fleet Street

  Leibowitz Oil Building

  9:16 a.m.

  Sophia tried in vain to stifle a yawn and giggled.

  Edward watched her with keen eyes from the armchair opposite her desk. His blue eyes twinkled and he grinned wickedly at her. “Not enough sleep?”

  “Nope.” Her voice was still a bit hoarse and she fingered the Hermès printed silk scarf she’d put around her neck.

  “I take it the CEO of The City of London Bank knows his job well?”

  Sophia just smiled and blinked trying to fight the sleepiness that was taking hold of her.

  “I told you, Sophia, third one’s the charm.”

  She yawned again.

  Edward’s grin broadened. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

  “I need caffeine.” She rose from her chair and stretched, looking at him with a naughty expression on her face. “Do you want one?”

  “Yeah, please.”

  She made a couple of coffees with her Nespresso machine and handed one to Edward.

  “Well. I can say I didn’t sleep much.” She picked up her coffee and sat back on her chair. The memory of them making love over the weekend surfaced. “Only a few hours last night. This morning I skipped the gym, had to drag myself to the shower and three coffees haven’t helped. I’m still sleepy.”

  “Come on, Sophia. The full report.”

  “Edward!”

  “You spent the whole weekend with him?”

  She turned on her iMac and glanced away from him, her cheeks burning. “I did.”

  “That good, huh?”

  You can’t imagine. “Nope. Better,” she winked and focused on the contract on her computer screen. “So—”

  “How do you rate him?”

  Off the charts. She refused to glance at him, biting her lip to stop her joyful smile from appearing.

  He shoved a hand in his blond hair, pushing it back from his forehead and settled down more comfortably in the armchair. “I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me all about it.”

  This statement made her turn her head and stare at him amused.

  Edward’s smile was impossibly wide and mischievous. He looked like a boy waiting for his favorite story.

  “Fine. I would give him…a ten.” She grinned. “Maybe eleven. But I’d never tell him. He’s already too conceited. He’d probably laugh, just like he laughed at me the whole weekend.” Or probably not. He would be angry if he knew I was gossiping with Edward about his sexual prowess—or not. Him and his mercurial moods.

  “Aaand?”

  Her heart pounded in her chest and she whispered, “He is a…devil in bed.”

  “One of my kind.” Edward wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Edward! I wouldn’t have thought you were so vain.” She creased her brow in thought. “No. I’m wrong. He’s not a devil. He’s an angel.” An angel? Alistair Connor? No. Never.

  “He can’t be too angelic if he put that naughty look on your face.”

  “Not angelic, no. A fallen angel,” she finished, smiling. “Anyhow, an angel. He took me to heaven, maybe surreptitiously, quite a few times during the weekend.” She giggled again.

  Edward laughed with her.

  The intercom buzzed and Sophia pressed the button with a big smile on her face. “Yes?”

  “Mrs. L, Dr. Walter is on your private line. May I transfer him?”

  “Dr. Walter? Dr. John Walter?”

  “Yes, Mrs. L,” Sarah confirmed.

  “Transfer him, please, Sarah.” Sophia picked up the handset and rose from her chair, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looking absentmindedly at the beautiful view of the River Thames.

  “Hello? Sophia?” John Walter’s quiet voice reached her.

  “Hi, John. How are you? How are Claire and the children?”

  �
�Everyone’s fine, my dear. You and Gabriela?”

  “We’re fine. Thanks. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Sophia, I…my secretary received a call earlier from Alistair MacCraig asking for an appointment today at six. For both of you. Together.”

  Oh, damn. “Ah…yes.” Please, say you can’t fit us in. Please. Please!

  “I have a C-section scheduled at five, so I can’t fit you in. I’m sorry.”

  She sighed, relieved. “If it won’t work today, don’t worry about it. It’s not an emergency.”

  Sophia heard him speaking with someone and the clicking sound of a keyboard. “I wanted to check with you first before confirming the appointment. I found it…unusual, since you always come alone. And quite frankly this is the first time…I’ve had this kind of request from…the boyfriend. Hmm, let’s see… This week is quite full. I can fit you in either today or tomorrow, but only at twelve-thirty. I don’t have any other times for the rest of the week. Or it could be next week.”

  “Let me check with Alistair and I’ll call your secretary back, John. But don’t worry. It’s nothing important. Thanks for your call. Send Claire and the kids a kiss. Take care.” She hung up and remained there looking at the phone in her hand. “Damn!” She stomped her right foot on the carpet floor.

  “Something wrong?” Edward was observing her with a strange look on his face. Sophia never stomped her feet unless she was really irritated.

  “Everything,” she muttered under her breath, “everything.” Still by the window, she called her secretary. “Sarah, could you please get Mr. Alistair MacCraig on the line?” She switched off and turned to Edward. “Why am I always involved with bossy men?”

  “Because you are bossy too? Gabriel was too spellbound by your charms to put you on a leash. You were the only one who ordered him around.” He smiled at her. “You found someone who seems to know how to deal with you. If he weren’t firm and ignored your whims, you’d be bossing him around.”

  Me? Bossing Alistair Connor MacCraig around? You have no idea, Mr. CEO. “Et tu, Brutus?” she snorted, trying to maintain an impassive face, but failing miserably. She couldn’t get angry when Edward was near.

  “Even I, Imperatrix,” he teased.

  Her mouth split in a big grin, “Imperatrix?”

  “Or should I say dominatrix?” He raised his brows at her. “But then, a dominatrix wouldn’t fit with MacCraig.”

  Sophia scrunched her face at him, “Dominatrix? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Mmm, nothing, Sophia. Nothing.” She was so sophisticated and mature for her age that sometimes Edward forgot how innocent she was in sexual matters.

  “Come on, Edward.” She tilted her head to the side, “Explain yourself—” The intercom buzzed. “Transfer him, Sarah, please,” she said, leaving no time for her secretary to say anything. She marched to the bathroom raising her index finger and mouthing to Edward, “One minute.”

  She closed the door and vented her anger on the phone, in a low voice, “Are you crazy, Alistair Connor? I told you I was clean and on birth control. What’s the hurry? Couldn’t you have called me first? John wants to see us at midday today. What is he going to think about you? About me? Dammit, Alistair Connor. Dammit!!”

  “I don’t know who John is, or what he’s going tae think about you or Alistair Connor. And I don’t care,” a deep masculine and amused voice answered her, chuckling. “How are you, Sophia?”

  Not Alistair.

  I just told a man I’m clean and on birth control. Oh, ground, please, swallow me.

  “It is Sophia, isn’t it?” Tavish insisted, as delighted as he’d been in ages by her outburst and the amusing way she had scolded his brother.

  “Who is—?” she stammered, incapable of forming a coherent thought.

  “Seems you ‘ave got the wrong MacCraig, Sophia,” he paused, waiting for her to say something.

  Damn! Lieutenant-Colonel-Doctor-Lord-Arrogance. “My lord Tavish Uilleam?”

  “Aye. How are you, Sophia?”

  What now, Sophia? Breathe, breathe.

  “Still there, Sophia?”

  “I…yes, I’m still here.”

  “How are you?” Tavish’s smile could almost be heard on the other end of the line.

  “I’m fine, thank you. And you, my lord?” she whispered, mortified. “Could you put your brother on, please? I’m sorry my secretary made the mistake of asking for you.”

  “I’m fine, thanks, Sophia.” She heard when he breathed deeply. “It wasn’t your secretary’s mistake. I intercepted the call. I want tae talk to you. Could ya meet me for lunch?”

  “Alone?” What are you intending, my lord?

  “Alone,” he confirmed in a now stern tone. “Also, I’d ask you not tae tell Alistair Connor about this.”

  “My lord—”

  “Please, Sophia, call me Tavish Uilleam. I’m sorry, I got the wrong idea, but when my father told me you were Alistair’s girlfriend I—”

  “Tavish Uilleam.” She cut him off. Are you trying to warn me against Alistair too? “I have no reason to go out with you, alone. I don’t have a habit of lying and I’m not going to start just yet. What do you want to talk with me about?”

  “Not on the phone. A tea, maybe?”

  “Only if your brother joins us.”

  “No, not with Alistair. And if Alice comes along?”

  “What is so secret that Alistair can’t hear? I find this request extremely unusual.”

  “Please, Sophia,” he insisted. “Lunch or tea. With Alice. You can set the date with her. I’m going tae transfer the call to Alistair Connor.” Tavish paused. “Sophia, I’ll be waiting for your confirmation. Soon. Hold on, please.”

  Which brother is more commanding? She asked her image in the mirror.

  “Sophia, sweetheart, good morning. Did you sleep well? Did you have…good dreams?”

  Alistair’s deep voice, full of sensual innuendo, reached deep down in Sophia’s belly, making her forget all she was supposed to say to him, as desire took control of her body and mind. “Mmm, ah…” she moaned. And whispered a throaty, “Hi.” She heard him chuckling on the other side of the line. Goddamnit, Sophia. Mmm, ah…hi? Is this an intelligent or even coherent phrase? She pulled herself together and reprimanded him, “Alistair Connor. I’m not used to having men command my schedule.”

  Alistair chuckled again. “I do hope so, mo chridhe. But, pray tell, who’s been ordering you around?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” His voice sounded genuinely surprised. “As if I could.”

  “You tried to schedule an appointment with Dr. John Walter.”

  “I didn’t try. I did it.” His voice had a dry tone. “I made an appointment for us. We talked about it.”

  Sophia huffed. “Alistair, we talked about it, yes. But that was before my neck and thighs were covered with black-and-blue finger marks.”

  He had no answer. A silence ensued on the line.

  “Alistair?”

  “I’m still here. And I’m listening. Go on,” he said in an even drier voice.

  Oh, damn. Damn. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Oh, nae! You meant it. The thing is, Sophia, I don’t care if you are covered with pockmarks or bruises. You want to continue with our relationship, don’t you? So, we’re going to that appointment. Together. I’m sure John can handle a few black-and-blue marks.” The line at his end beeped. “Hold on for a second, please.”

  Alistair didn’t wait for her answer and pressed down the button for the intercom, “Yes, MacKeenan? Quickly, please.”

  “Mr. MacCraig, you asked me to confirm Dr. Walter’s appointment.”

  “Aye. And?”

  “Well, I just called and his secretary informed me that Dr. Walter won’t be able to see you at six, but he left a twelve-thirty appointment open for you and Mrs. Leibowitz. It’s his only available time. Today or tomorrow.”

  “Confirm it for today, please. And inform G
arrick I’ll be leaving at a quarter to eleven. Also, please, call Mary at Cartier. I want the matching ring for the Love bracelet I bought. And call Mr. Arkade about the Van Clef clip I had put aside last week. Send fresh white roses to Mrs. Leibowitz’s office and house. Make it a hundred…nae, two hundred. A hundred each. And ask for orange blossoms to be put among the roses. Ah, and MacKeenan, please, find a doll called Corolle. See if it needs batteries and if there are accessories available. Buy them all and send them to Miss Gabriela Leibowitz. I have all the cards ready. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m finished with this call so you can come get them.”

  “Sir? Does Mary know Mrs. Leibowitz’s ring size?”

  “Good question. She has long and elegant fingers…ask for one size sixteen and one size seventeen. It’s probably one of them. Did you get all that, MacKeenan?”

  “Yes, sir. Consider it done.”

  “Thanks.” Alistair pushed down the button for Sophia’s call. “Sophia?”

  “Yes, I’m still waiting, sire.”

  Alistair smiled, he could almost see her bowing mockingly. Then he frowned at her petulant tone. Fuck, here I go again. “I’m sorry, Sophia. It was MacKeenan confirming our appointment with John. At mid—”

  “Alistair Connor!” Sophia sounded aggravated. “Weren’t you listening to what I just told you?”

  “Weren’t you listening to what I just told you?” he repeated her words, turning the question on her. When is she going to start complying with my wishes?

  Oh, my God! What did I do to deserve this domineering man? Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward.

  “Sophia?”

  “Yes, sire?” she taunted.

  “I’ll be waiting for you downstairs, at eleven-fifteen sharp. Don’t be late.” He hung up.

  Sophia’s mouth dropped open when she realized he had just hung up on her. Oh, no, Alistair Connor. You didn’t just do that! She yanked the door open and stormed into the office, saying out loud, “You’re so screwed, soooo screwed!”

  Startled, Edward and looked up from the papers on his lap. “Who? Me?”

 

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