“Good,” a smile spread over Ethan’s now permanently shaved face. He turned to his computer and quickly scanned his schedule for that day. Scott had already booked the hour. “I’m sure you made certain that Ms. Leibowitz is going to be at the meeting.”
“Mrs. Chanda said that Ms. Leibowitz is personally supervising this project. I think, sir, that we should plan a charity gala event to launch it. Maybe a black tie ball. The Leibowitz Foundation and Ashford Steel together.”
“That has a nice ring to it, Scott. I’ll talk about it with Sophia. Please, make reservations for lunch after the meeting. At one o’clock. At L’Atelier. Inform Chef Olivier that I’ll be celebrating a business transaction and that I want the last table by the living wall. Scott, make sure that Sophia and I are both seated on the sofa. I don’t want a single table.”
“Sir, perhaps a restaurant with a private and cozy room?”
“Hmm. No, I don’t think so.” Ethan thinned his lips and shook his head. “Sophia is still with MacCraig. She wouldn’t like it. You can start planning the charity ball. Show me your ideas before the meeting so I can talk her into it.”
Scott put his narrow shoulders back and puffed his thin chest, proud of himself. “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure the Leibowitz and Ashford ball is as spectacular as the two people who name it.”
“Please, inform Carter that I have scheduled a conference call with Mr. Chang, from Ashford China, at 10 p.m. today, and that I’ll need him.”
“Yes, Mr. Ashford. I’ll stay later too, preparing everything for the ball.” Scott smiled inwardly. “Ah, and I have news. Good news. Ghost has already started to work on the Leibowitz network.”
Ethan smiled like a child that been given a much wanted toy. “Good, Scott. Very good. Keep me informed, please.”
“Of course, Mr. Ashford.” There was no doubt in Scott’s mind that his boss’s weakness was Sophia Leibowitz. And to keep him pleased and the bonuses coming into his bank account, he would do everything. Anything.
Atwood House.
Wednesday, March 24th, 2010.
7.28 p.m.
“No, Alistair, I can’t,” Sophia propped the handset between her cheek and her shoulder as she walked to her bookshelf looking for a book, “not tonight.”
“Again?” I shouldn’t have told her. She is keeping me away. “Sophia, I miss you. Somewhere simple, something quick.”
It has been only three days. “Alistair, my dear... I’m tired. My day was just terrible. I got stuck in a huge traffic jam on the way back from Cambridge; Edward is still ill; and my computer crashed twice at the end of the day.” She singled out the book she was looking for and walked back to her desk. “I brought some work home, but Gabriela demanded my attention. I’m reviewing a pro bono case that Paul Evergreen discussed with me today.”
Almost the same excuse she used on Monday and yesterday. “Not even a quick dinner?”
“Hmm. Maybe later.” She put the call on speaker, opened the file she was working on and started to type. “And somewhere casual, I don’t feel like dressing up tonight.”
He breathed relieved at the other end of the line. “Anywhere would be great.”
She frowned and deleted an incoherent sentence she had just typed, absentmindedly agreeing, “Mm-hmm.”
Alistair looked at his watch in the dim light of his car. “In let’s say... Fifteen minutes?”
“Alistair Connor, I...” Giving up her work, she swiveled her chair. “Why don’t you have dinner here with me instead? In two and a half hours. It would give me time to finish the pro bono case and a quick shower.”
“Only if you wait for me to take your shower. I want to wash your back.”
“My back. Right,” she laughed. “While I would love to shower with you, I can’t spare the time, Handsome.”
You can’t spare me time... He frowned, worried and aggravated. “I’ll be there in two hours then.” He crossed his fingers before he asked, “Do you want to sleep with me tonight? Here?”
“I can’t. I had to cancel my fencing class today and I moved it to tomorrow morning. Why don’t you sleep here? I’ll make up for the lost shower. When you come for dinner, bring your clothes for tomorrow.”
He blew out an irritated breath. “See you later, then.”
Alistair felt a strange and cold sensation fill him as he hung up the phone. He was sure Sophia wasn’t behaving normally. Fuck, Alistair Connor. You have just began this relationship. Don’t rush things. You know what happens when you lose your mind over a woman.
He didn’t know why he was trying to fool himself. He was already head over heels with Sophia.
Kensington, Palace Gardens Terrace.
Alistair MacCraig’s Apartment.
7.44 p.m.
Alistair opened his apartment door and entered it with a heavy heart. He wanted to hear Sophia’s greeting and Gabriela’s laugh as he walked into the living room. He wanted them to live with him. He didn’t want to come back from work to a place devoid of warmth and love.
He was seeing his home with new eyes. It felt so cold and empty after Sophia’s cozy and colorful house. Where are the flowers? Where are the books forgotten on the floor for Sophia to pick up, flaunting that delicious butt in the air? Where’s the laughter?
He pushed his bedroom door and his eyes searched for Nathalie’s plush pink elephant seated on the shelf beside her photo. Sophia would have been a great stepmother, Nathalie. You would have liked her.
He took a warm shower and dressed in loose gray jeans and a red and charcoal striped sweater.
Alistair stopped in the middle of his dressing room, studying his reflection in the full length mirror for a moment, then abruptly walked out.
In his kitchen, he grabbed a large rubbish bag and walked back resolutely, opening the door on the left of his dressing room door. He looked at his collection for a second and then started shoving most of it into the bag, knotting it closed. He opened his apartment door and walked down the corridor opening the garbage room and threw the plastic bag inside. He closed it with finality.
He returned to his apartment, washed his hands as relief flooded his heart. He looked at his watch. He had plenty of time.
He poured himself a shot of whisky and settled in his armchair with the wireless phone in his hand, dialing his father’s mobile number.
“Father? How are you? Can you spare me a few minutes?” He paused as he listened to his father’s greeting.
Alistair talked about banalities while he put his thoughts in order. Then, he gently probed his father for his impressions on Sophia. He exhaled as his father’s voice became lighter and happier as he told Alistair that he was enchanted with his girlfriend.
Alistair closed his eyes for a brief moment and hoped he was doing the right thing. He interrupted his father’s praises of Sophia and said, “Father, the thing is... It’s Alice’s birthday in two weeks and I’d like the whole family at Ells Hall. Not a party, really, more of a double celebration.”
He listened as his father asked what else there was to celebrate. “Well, since it’s a long weekend...” He cleared his throat, but his voice came out hoarse anyway, when he explained, “I’m going to propose to Sophia.”
Atwood House.
9.57 p.m.
“May I offer you anything to drink, Mr. MacCraig?” Lucy, Sophia’s housekeeper, asked as she ushered him into the formal living room.
“No, thanks, Lucy, I’m fine.” Alistair entered the room and walked toward one of superb paintings hanging on the wall to distract himself from his rapidly beating heart.
“Mrs. Leibowitz will be down in a few minutes.”
“Thanks,” he said again, nodding in confirmation, without taking his eyes of the red and pink Rothko.
He looked around and his eyes stopped on the piano. He could still hear his mother playing. He walked up to it and sat down on the bench. Running his hands over the keyboard, a sad smile curved his lips and he lost himself playing Schubert’s Ave Maria as he
remembered his mother’s lessons.
He was so caught up in the piece that he didn’t hear Sophia open the door. He didn’t see as her eyes teared and the effort it took for her to compose herself before walking up to him.
When he did look up at her face, the smile she gave him held so much love that he kept playing without saying a word. He scooted on the bench, making room for her.
The last notes sounded in the room and Sophia shifted on the bench to enlace his waist with her arms and put her head on his muscular back, murmuring, “So beautiful, Alistair Connor, it makes me want to cry.”
While he played, he forgot about all his worries and doubts about Sophia’s distancing herself from him. He pulled her onto his lap, cradling her head in the hollow of his neck and hugged her.
His voice was heavy with emotion when he spoke in her hair. “I don’t ever want to make you cry. I want to make you the happiest woman in the world.”
He was acutely aware of her breath on his neck, of her silky hair brushing his arm and of her supple body ensconced on his chest.
They stayed there in quiet communion until he dipped her a little and looked into her eyes, asking, “Are you sure about what you told me on Sunday?”
“We talked about so many- Ah.” She combed back the locks that had fallen over his left eye. “Yes, I’m sure, Alistair Connor. Once my word is given, I don’t go back on it.”
He hauled her back onto his chest and squeezed her fiercely. Lowering his guard, he whispered in her ear, “I thought you had changed your mind.”
She sighed and her eyes searched his. “Do you want to know what I thought during these days and nights we didn’t meet? The whole truth?”
I knew it. He steeled himself for the blow. “Always.”
“You have been poisoned. The poison is still inside you. You must look for the antidote.”
He was puzzled by how Sophia’s mind worked. He was waiting for her to say that yes, she had avoided him; that yes, she wanted kids and that he wasn’t good enough for her. “You, Sophia, you are the antidote.”
“You’ve been hurt too deep, Alistair Connor. And you need to rebuild your inner strength and your faith in yourself. You need to work out these feelings of hate and guilt.” She shook her head lightly and he halted her movement by gripping her chin, but Sophia wouldn’t be stopped. She transferred his hand to her cheek and leaning on it, she kissed his wrist, before saying, “Will you consider therapy?”
She is serious. “For you, I-”
“No. Not for me. For you. Do it for you, Alistair Connor. Please?”
He blinked as she made another crack in his already broken defense walls. The question hung in the room as they looked in each other’s eyes.
Alistair capitulated first, he dared not contradict such a simple request from the love of his life. “Very well. Tomorrow morning I’ll ask Tavish Uilleam for a referral.”
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Sophia hastily stood up and fixed her wrap dress, “Come in.”
“Mrs. Leibowitz, dinner is served.” Lucy informed as she pushed the door.
“Thanks, Lucy.” Sophia stretched her hand and took his. “Come. I’ve ordered a typical Brazilian dish for us.”
“Feijoada with caipirinha?” he asked, licking his lips.
“At this late hour?” she laughed. “Absolutely not.”
“Churrasco, then?”
“No, Alistair Connor. A moqueca bahiana. A very tasty stew made with fish, shrimp, lobsters and crab cooked in a traditional clay pot with coconut milk and palm oil. But I don’t usually put the palm oil when I serve it to foreigners.” She sneered at him, “It’s a bit strong for delicate stomachs.”
“Delicate!”
She shrieked happily when he bent down and lifted her onto his shoulder. “I’m a Highlander, woman. I’m going to ask the chef at Craigdale to prepare Haggis and black pudding for you next time.”
“You silly Highlander. Offal is a traditional dish in Brazil’s Northeast.”
He put her back on her feet in the dining room and inhaled the spicy aroma that wafted from the bubbling stew. “Hmm. This smells good.” He pulled her chair for her and bowed, “My lady.” That’s exactly what you will be, Sophia. My lady.
11.33 p.m.
She threw her head back and laughed. “I don’t believe it, Alistair Connor. You did what?”
He smiled. “Well, he was spying. Tavish Uilleam was at that age where his hormones were getting the best of him. So I tied him to the post in the farthest bay and closed the stable door. I forgot to untie him after I finished... Err...”
“Your tumble.” She laughed, imagining a teenage Tavish tied up and locked up with a horse.
“Aye. Then I walked the girl back to her house. She lived in the village near Craigdale. I headed home and took a shower. It was around one o’clock in the morning when I woke up with my father shaking me by the shoulders and my mother screaming my ears off.” He laughed, “They’d found Tavish Uilleam sleeping, freezing his ass off in his pajamas, all tied up with ropes. I thought my mother was going to kill me that day.”
She was laughing so hard that she was hugging her stomach. “You were not right in the head.”
He shook his head, smiling, “I would have done the same to Alice if she sneaked a peek too.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would.” He shrugged and planted a kiss on her lips. “But she knew better than to go to the stables late at night. Girls don’t misbehave like boys.”
“It depends.”
He shook his head firmly, “Nae, girls are much more obedient, less bold.”
Oh, yeah? I’m going to show you more obedient and less bold, Alistair Connor. Sophia lifted her glass, drank it dry and put it on the side table. “Do you know what I want?”
“No.”
She crawled on the sofa until she was straddling him and said bluntly, “I want to fuck you.”
“I thought it was the other way around,” he laughed.
“Hm?” She started unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off as she wiggled her hips, rubbing herself on his waking arousal. “I want your cock in my pussy.”
“WHAT?” He roared with laughter. “You’re tipsy. You don’t talk so dirty.”
“It’s the company,” she teased. She licked her way down, from his collarbone to his nipple, while she opened his jeans and stroked his semi-hard penis through his underwear. “Well, has your cock ever been deep in a tipsy pussy before?” she provoked him with a devilish smile.
His blood boiled with lust. “I would never refuse a beautiful lady with such a request.” He took over the situation as his hand pulled her against him and he licked her lips. A low growl built in his chest as she responded with gradually bolder parries of her tongue without really engaging in a kiss until she sucked his lower lip and nipped it gently with her teeth. He groaned deeper and pulled away slowly. He drank in the sight of her face softly flushed with desire and her mouth gleaming wet.
“Up,” he lifted her from his lap and sat her on the sofa, stood and walked to the door, locking it. Back to the sofa, he shoved down his jeans and underwear and, fully naked, he sat, commanding, “Strip for me.”
Sophia felt empowered. Her hands toyed with the ties of her dress before she unlaced the belt and whirled it around herself. The wrap dress opened to one side and she watched as his half-arousal stirred and hardened with lust.
Alistair flexed his hands, willing his arms to stay at his sides, as the sparks between them grew.
Sophia couldn’t help her wicked smile as she danced slowly, playing with the dress, baring just one of her breasts. Her lacy bra didn’t hide a thing. She opened the other side of the dress and, turning her back to him, shrugged it off, letting it fall slowly to the floor.
She looked boldly at Alistair over her shoulder.
Wearing only a bra and panties she worked her hips in agonizingly slow circles, as she moved her hands along her body.
Hi
s chest heaved in pants. He propped his elbows on his knees and watched as she swayed her hips to one side and then to the other, the smooth skin of her buttocks driving him mad. His fingers itched to touch her, but he controlled himself.
Sophia danced with her back to him as she lowered first one and then the other bra strap and disengaged it from behind. She began to caress herself, her hands wandering leisurely over her buttocks, hips and waist. She turned and he sucked in his breath as she cupped her breasts and her thumbs toyed with the stiff nipples.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
Her breasts swayed softly as she bent and kissed his lips, while her hand toyed with her thong. Her fingers dipped down in her thong, she closed her eyes and moaned.
That did it for him.
“Enough.” He picked her up by the waist and pressed her back on the sofa. Divesting her from her flimsy thong, he settled on the floor between her thighs and used the skills he knew she liked most, just small tantalizing touches of his tongue and fingers, to bring her to the edge of her orgasm.
When she gasped and shivered on the brink of a climax, he sat at the sofa again and lowered her slowly on his arousal, watching her as she threw her head back in pleasure.
“Yes!” She gripped his biceps hard as he lapped at her hard nipples.
“You feel so good.” When he was fully settled within her, he sucked a breast in his mouth, suckling.
Sophia thrust her hands in his hair, keeping his mouth firmly in place as she moved in circles on his lap. Soft gasps and moans of pleasure escaped her throat.
While she enjoyed his attention to her breasts, he slid on a finger between the crease of her ass, probing softly with a feathery touch and testing her reaction. She tightened and then to his surprise, writhed down on it, whispering in his ear, “Do it.”
“Relax,” he ordered and plunged his finger slowly into her. He watched her face as he withdrew and pushed two fingers this time.
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