Unbroken Love

by Cristiane Serruya

  She could not pretend she was not staring, because her eyes were glued to Sophia who had just walked in. She had never seen her so close.

  Sophia was wearing a one-shoulder long-sleeve blouse made of heavy black lace, a yellow short pleated leather skirt, and black high-heels. She had rimmed her eyes with kohl and her lips had just a touch of gloss.

  Barbara was astonished at how Ethan could think they were alike. She was the complete opposite of delicate and natural Sophia. She felt self-conscious; big breasted, too tall, old, and awkward.

  The waiter pulled the table and Sophia sat beside Alice on the sofa, thanking him with a bright smile, and the young man blushed.

  “Whore,” Barbara murmured under her breath. She understood what her friends had been saying to her; only a fool would believe Ethan could forget Sophia so easily.

  Barbara could bet Sophia had not noticed her sitting as she was, shadowed by the pillar. Or that anyone had noticed her. Ethan had chosen the most discreet table in the room. She was his shame. That made her sad; that made her sick. That made her angry, very angry.

  “Ashford. What a pleasure!” Leonard said as he entered the men’s room. “Are you dining here too?”

  Ethan controlled his facial expression and smiled at Leonard. His parents’ words, threatening to tell Sophia and Alistair he was having an affair with Barbara made him galvanize into action. “Ah, yes, just leaving, Allenthorp. I had a wonderful Roe Buck.” I hope they still have it on the menu.

  Leonard chuckled. “Sophia would faint if she saw anyone eating Roe Buck near her. She fainted when we went hunting.”

  Jesus. Things couldn’t get worse. “Ah. Is she here too?” Ethan zipped up his trousers in a hurry.

  “Yes. Just the four of us.”

  Great. That’s really great. Ethan washed his hands and said goodbye to Leonard, leaving the room, looking around for Sophia’s table. Leonard will find it weird, to say the least, if I don’t greet them. Why did I let Barbara talk me into going out? The awkwardness he was feeling turned into anger directed toward Barbara. She is nothing, only here for my pleasure.

  Sophia was surprised when Ethan said a curt hello to Alistair and Alice, perfunctorily kissed her cheek, and walked quickly back to his table.

  The stunning woman who had been ogling her, stood up and deliberately put her hand on Ethan’s arm.

  Not that this was a problem for Sophia.

  What baffled her was the fierce look, which came from a woman she had never met before. What have I done to you? Whoever she was, she was not hiding herself, or that she had noticed Sophia. Her blue eyes flashed with possessiveness, jealousy, and other emotions Sophia couldn’t comprehend.

  Sophia looked at the others to see if anyone had noticed the woman, but they were immersed in choosing their food. Incapable of subduing her curiosity, Sophia looked back.

  Barbara had put on her coat, placed an arm around Ethan’s waist, and gave her a last look as if she could burn Sophia to ashes. When the maître d’ opened the restaurant door for them, she mouthed a word dripping with venom.

  A shudder ran down Sophia’s spine even though she hadn’t been able to decipher the word.

  From far away, she heard someone calling her name.

  “Sophia?” Alice asked.

  “Are you all right?” Alistair cupped her face. “You’re pale and you spaced out for a moment.”

  “Mm-hmm,” she nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, that was convincing,” Leonard drawled sarcastically.

  “I have a slight headache,” she lied, with a smile pasted on her face. “I think it’s hunger.”

  “So let’s order,” said Alice.

  Alistair stared at Sophia for a moment, wondering why she was lying. Why every time Ethan was around she got distracted. Why Ethan kept hounding her as if Sophia were a sweet fox he wished to devour.

  On the way to Atwood House

  10:53 p.m.

  Maybe she has seen me with Ethan before. Or maybe he’s mentioned me and she’s jealous. Slowly, as Sophia made sense of the scene at the restaurant, she realized that they’d been riding back in complete silence. Neither of them had remembered to put on any music.

  The dinner had been scrumptious, talkative and full of laughter. Leonard and Alice kept telling Sophia about Alistair’s mischiefs when he was younger. The way back to their house had been a silent one though, each one dealing with their private thoughts. Alistair’s lips were thinned to a straight line and his hand was gripping the wheel hard.

  As he drove into their underground garage, she covered his hand with hers, inquiring, “Everything okay?”

  “Aye.” His shoulders relaxed a bit. Just keeping my jealousy and desire under control.

  Sophia climbed out of the car when Alistair killed the engine.

  Alistair opened the door to the pool lounge for her and locked it after him. He stopped by it, stretched out his arm, and opened his hand, letting his car key fall to the floor.

  Sophia heard the noise and turned. She was ready to drop on her haunches to pick it up when she saw Alistair’s pose.

  Did he do it on purpose? Her eyes flicked up to his face and the hunger she saw made her hot. Ah!

  She was still impressed how, with just a look or a gesture, he could turn her on.

  Her coat and purse slid down her arm to the floor and she stepped toward him, breathless. Her need was so strong that her voice came out hoarsely, “Should I pick up your key, Alistair Connor?”

  “Nae.” He desired her, right in that moment, no foreplay. In a fluid movement, he pressed her on the wall, growling, “I’m still hungry.” For you.

  I’ll appease your hunger. She gasped but welcomed the onslaught of his kiss.

  His hand searched for her zipper. When he didn’t find it, his hand sought her skin.

  Moaning in his mouth, she moved her foot up around one of his legs, opening up to his touch.

  When his hand brushed her thigh-high garter and then her sex, he broke the kiss and stepped back, panting. “Fuck, Sophia. Take off your skirt, I want to see it.”

  She smiled naughtily and opened the zipper, letting her skirt pool around her high-heels.

  Fuck. Under her pleated skirt, she was wearing an unapologetically erotic garter belt with no panties and was hairless.

  “If I had known you were wearing—no’ wearing—fuck, I’d’ve come home earlier.”

  Their gazes clashed and locked, his forest-green eyes raging with passion.

  “It’d have ruined the surprise,” she whispered, pulling him by the lapels of his blazer. “Now, stop talking and start doing.”

  “As you wish.” He grabbed the neckline of her blouse and pulled, tearing the lace to discover she was wearing no bra.

  He stepped back to enjoy the sight and shook his head, amazed. “What have I done to you?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care.” She wiggled her fingers at him. “You’re too talkative tonight. Come here.”

  He had wished to take her rough and fast to release the tension between them but her boldness of going out without bra or panties had empowered him and all the tension evaporated. He knew she’d done it for his pleasure and for Alistair there was nothing more arousing than that.

  “You’re a witch,” he breathed, and dropped to his knees.

  She was going to answer that she was no witch but his tongue drew a path directly to the seam of her thighs, disarming her. She threw a leg over his shoulder and fisted his hair as his tongue found what he was looking for.

  My own ambrosia. My paradise. When he thrust his tongue inside her, she had to lean against the wall. He licked her leisurely, melting her into a puddle of desire and gasps.

  “Mmm, stop. I want more of you,” she moaned loudly, complaining of the torture. When he didn’t comply, she pulled hard at his hair. “Alistair Connor. I want more.”

  He looked at her face, and dragged the tip of his tongue so slowly over his lips that Sophia heaved a breath
. “More. Of. What?”

  She closed her eyes, enjoying the desire pooling in her center and said out loud, “I want your big, hard dick pushing into my hot, wet pussy.”

  “Fuck, Sophia. I love this. Keep talking,” he ordered. “Tell me what you want.”

  She heard the tantalizing sound of his clothes being shed as she told him what she wanted, mixing dirty words with sensations. She could feel the intensity of her desire, her breath quickening as she understood the power of awareness. When she felt his warm breath on her neck, she was so aroused that her knees buckled.

  “More than a witch.” He pushed her up against the wall and she wound her legs around his waist. “You’re an enchantress.”

  Sophia opened her eyes when the tip of his cock brushed her. In the shadowed lounge, he looked like a feral Highland warrior taking possession of what was due to him.

  She arched on his chest. “Fuck me.”

  He plunged in, burying himself into her, and her cry of pleasure filled the room, her legs winding tighter around his waist.

  “Shhh! Don’t scream,” he admonished, lunging deeper.

  “As if I could not.” She locked her ankles and pushed against him, drawing him inside. Sophia was so close that her boundaries were blurred and all her sensations were honed into pure delight. “I’m—”

  “Come. I’ve got you.” Alistair fought for a bit of control but all his leashes were gone. She did that to him. She drew his control into her and made his emotions come to the fore.

  He slanted his head to kiss her better. He had never felt that need, that pleasure, that love. He grunted loudly, withdrew, and thrust hard into her, in a long stroke.

  “I love you.” All Sophia could feel, smell, and hear was Alistair. In that moment, he was her world. And then she could hold no more, and yanking back his long black hair, she cried as violent spasms robbed her of sanity.

  Clamping him inside her body, she barely heard as Alistair shouted her name when he started to come.

  Like the first time they had made love, Sophia passed out.

  Sophia opened her eyes and saw Alistair gazing adoringly at her. He had carried her to one of the reclining chairs and lay beside her, propped on an elbow.

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  “Hey, you.” His hand ran over her body and his lips curled. “I really don’t know what to make of these fainting fits of yours.”

  She stretched lazily under his caress. “And I really don’t know what to make of this ripping habit of yours. I’ve been buying more clothes and lingerie than ever.”

  The curling grew and he flashed her a wicked smile. “Good. I can keep ripping them then.”

  The Harlequin Suite

  Monday, December 6, 2010

  1:00 p.m.

  “I know this now. You were right. I can’t compete with her. She haunts him like the ghosts in his castle,” Barbara said, angrily and loudly. “Sophia is this, Sophia is that. Sophia. So-phi-a. I hate that name.”

  Scott stopped at the door of the small office, alarmed. There was so much disgust in her voice that he instinctually pressed himself against the wall. Silently, he pulled the door open a bit more and peered through it.

  Barbara was walking the length of the room and speaking on a cell phone Scott had never seen before. He could hear her laughing bitterly but she was too far away for him to make out her words. As she made her way back, he was paralyzed by shock.

  “She’s going to Scotland for Christmas. No, we are staying here. In my icy, gold cage,” Barbara stopped walking as she listened to her friend’s advice. “Yeah, you’re right, she’s a bitch.”

  Scott didn’t like what he was hearing at all. He’d learned to like Sophia as much as he liked Ethan. In fact, it was not difficult to like Sophia once one passed through all the barriers she put around herself.

  He could even compare Sophia with Ethan. Although in opposite ways, deep down in their hearts, all they wanted was simply to please and give love, and to receive it in return.

  From his early childhood, Scott’s mother had taught him that anything which begun with the wrong motivations ended badly. Scott wondered how much his words and actions had contributed to what was happening now, and how it would weigh on his shoulders. What had seemed a funny and romantic game of espionage with Ethan stalking Sophia and then trying to replace her by hiring Barbara had now become a tight web of lies and hate.

  “I don’t care what Scott says about this anymore. Isn’t Ethan helping the bitch in her charity for children? Of course he likes children then. Yeah, that was my idea. I’m sure after the first shock, he’ll love to be a father.” Her pause was more concerned now. “Now. I haven’t thought of this possibility. But, no. No, I don’t think he has sterilized himself. He takes too many precautions. Condoms, pills, Plan B. I’ve stopped the pill already and I’ll… hmm…yes! Excellent idea! I’ll start to collect a few used condoms. Prepare yourself to be a godmother.”

  “Oh, dear. She has gone crazy,” Scott whispered, horrified.

  Chapter 11

  Wednesday, December 8, 2010

  8:09 a.m.

  “So, Scott, this is everything?” Ethan leaned back on the chair observing his assistant.

  Scott mopped his head. After reviewing the day’s schedule, there was still one touchy issue he had to talk about.

  Scott’s conscience had been weighing on him. He had a strong sense of family, religion, and morals and would always be grateful for the help his boss had given his family. Digging deep within himself, Scott brought to the fore all his courage. His thoughts were organized with such clarity that he even stopped sweating. “Yes, sir.”

  Ethan had always been impressed by how the shy, nervous Scott could become a confident man under pressure. He knew he was undermining Scott’s abilities when he asked him to deal with his own personal problems, but he needed someone he could count on. “Is there anything wrong?”

  Scott consulted his notes, and twirling his Montblanc in his fingers, he told Ethan, word for word, what he had heard Barbara saying on Monday. He was dreading Ethan’s reaction, but when Scott finished, his boss was looking at him, completely dumbfounded.

  My life just keeps becoming stranger and stranger and this time it’s my fault. Ethan was quiet for a moment, then, sharply, he said in a strange voice, “Dismiss her.”

  “Mr. Ashford?” Scott’s watery-blue eyes were understanding, but he was not so sure Ethan was thinking clearly. “I’m not sure that is the wisest thing to do.”

  “No, Scott, maybe it’s not the wisest move, but it’s necessary.” This is my chance to move on and break all the strings. He rose and buttoned his waistcoat and put his suit jacket on. His mind was working over what he could do to minimize the blow to Barbara.

  After all, she had fallen in love with a man who didn’t exist. Because, in the end, he didn’t love her or see her as Barbara, and she couldn’t possibly love his feigned personality of pretending to accept her as a substitute for Sophia. That’s all she would be. A mere substitute.

  They were living with impostors of themselves, trying to emulate the relationship he’d had with Sophia. And although he had begun to warm and open up to Barbara, he didn’t love her. That she was considering getting pregnant without him knowing, to keep him by her side, was a betrayal Ethan couldn’t possibly abide.

  Picking up his overcoat, he ordered with finality, “I’m leaving for the meeting and don’t want to find her here when I return. Dismiss her and pay her a year’s salary. She can take all the clothes and jewelry I gave her. Buy her somewhere to live close to her mother. A two bedroom apartment, or give her the money. I don’t care, but dismiss her. Today.”

  Scott knew better than to try to reason with his boss. When Ethan decided something, he was unmovable. But still he had to be certain. “Sir? Are you sure?”

  When he opened his mouth to answer, Barbara’s voice invaded the room.

  “Ethan?”

  Barbara knew something was wrong as
soon as she stepped into the home office. A sepulchral silence descended over the room and engulfed her in a tsunami of fear.

  A rictus of repulsion twisted Ethan’s lips. She’s your problem, not Scott’s. Face it, Ashford.

  With a trembling smile, Barbara said, “Good—”

  “You’re dismissed,” he interrupted her, in an even voice, his gaze never moving from her face. “Scott’ll walk you out and within the week all your things will be delivered to you. I know you’ll be grateful for all I have done for you. And I trust that you’ll stay away from me.” Ethan flexed his hand as if to reinforce his words, his hatred for the coward she’d turned into was greater than anything else. She’d stab me in the back at the first opportunity. This is not love.

  For Barbara, time stopped as the meaning of his words settled in like a heavy door closing shut. She saw his mouth move as he walked past her, leaving her and Scott alone. Disoriented, Barbara looked at Scott. “Now?”

  Scott rose from his chair and confirmed, “Now.”

  She blinked, still not believing what had happened. The air left her lungs and there was a void where her heart had been.

  Scott tilted his head to the side, studying Barbara. Her gaze was blank and she was as pale as the off-white turtleneck she was wearing.

  “Come on, Barbara. I’ll help you.” Scott gently led her out of the office.

  No one had taught Barbara that she shouldn’t give her heart so freely to a man that didn’t love her.

  The void in her chest filled with hateful acid and it made her blood bubble and sputter in her veins. She gazed unseeingly at Scott and hissed, “I wish I had never known him. I wish he were dead.”

  Leibowitz Oil Building

  Friday, December 17, 2010

  4:25 p.m.

  Sophia walked through the Leibowitz Oil building lobby taking in its high ceiling and its marble walls and floor, and the armored glass she had ordered as soon as she moved to London. All of the doors with their special metal detectors, alarms, and locks made her feel safer.