Shades of Trust

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Shades of Trust Page 7

by Cristiane Serruya


  Sophia thinned her lips. “I like him, Edward. That’s all. Now, if you—” The intercom buzzed again. “Oh, damn! Yes, Sarah?”

  “Mr. Ashford on line two, Mrs. L. Are you answering the call?” Sarah’s voice sounded apologetic.

  “Yes,” she sighed. “Please transfer him.”

  “Sophia, darling, good morning.” Ethan’s baritone voice filled the room. “Why didn’t you answer my secretary?”

  “Ethan, I don’t go out with secretaries.” Edward smiled at Sophia’s petulant answer. “You want to go out with me, you call me.”

  “I see.” He inhaled. “I’m sorry. So, baby, where do you want to have lunch?”

  “Anywhere would be good. I don’t have much time today. Unless you want to make it after two o’clock.”

  “Anytime, Sophia. I would like to take you somewhere else after.”

  “Where? What for?”

  “Surprise, baby. So, where do you want to have lunch?”

  “China Tang at The Dorchester.” Sophia raised her brows at Edward, smiling. “Sound good?”

  “Splendid. Shall I pick you up at a quarter to two?”

  “I said two o’clock, Ethan. I can’t make it earlier today. Will that be okay?”

  “Yes, Ms. Santo, ma’am, fine,” he mocked. “Don’t forget to leave some spare time for me after, all right? The whole afternoon, if you can. See you at two.”

  Edward smiled at her when Ethan hung up. “He’s eating out of the palm of your hand, Sophia. Completely smitten.”

  Yeah, maybe. Sophia made a face at him. “Now, where were we?”

  Outside The Dorchester Hotel

  4:03 p.m.

  “You got me drunk, Mr. Ashford.” Sophia giggled. “I’m not fit to go back to work like this.”

  “Good. I missed you over the weekend. I want to make up for it today.”

  His driver opened the door to his Rolls-Royce Phantom Black-tie Edition.

  “Wilkins, we’re going to 165 Sloane Street.” Ethan accommodated his body on the seat and closed the partition between them and the driver. He turned sideways and framed her face, his eyes sparkling. “Promise me you won’t get mad?”

  “Mad? Why would I get mad?” She looked at him, befuddled.

  “Promise me,” he insisted.

  “Hmm. Whatever.” She flicked her hand, nodded, and giggled, a little high. “I promise. You really got me tipsy. Why are we going to Sloane Street? I don’t need more clothes.” Correction: I won’t accept them.

  “No more clothes,” he agreed. “For now.”

  “Aren’t you mysterious, Mr. Ashford?”

  “I want another promise from you, Sophia. You’re going to spend the night with me.”

  Sophia sobered on the spot. “Tonight?” Oh, damn. Gabriela! I must tell him sometime. How long can I keep it from him?

  “Please, baby?” he huskily asked, and his thumb caressed her mouth with a light touch. His mouth descended to conquer her lips in a sensuous kiss. “Promise me, Sophia.”

  “Ethan…I can’t. Tomorrow, I promise.”

  “So be it,” he sighed. “But spend this afternoon with me. Wilkins can take you home after dinner.”

  “Before dinner. Seven o’clock.” She kissed him lightly. “It’s the best I can do.”

  “Are you going out this evening?” His demeanor darkened.

  “No. I have a contract to review.” My dearest blonde, blue-eyed, three-year-old contract.

  The car parked in front of a brick building. Ethan leaped out and held out his hand for Sophia.

  “Remember your promise,” he insisted, as Sophia stepped on the pavement and looked around warily. “Shall I blindfold you?”

  “Blindfold me? What for? I promised I wouldn’t get mad and you said we weren’t going shopping.”

  “I said we weren’t buying more clothes,” he corrected, and guided her by the hand toward a jewelry shop.

  Sophia planted her heels on the ground and stared at him.

  “You won’t make a scene in the middle of Sloane Street, will you?” He stared back at her. “You promised.”

  “Ethan…please. There is no need for this.” She looked around searching for a way out of the situation. His generosity and domineering behavior distressed her. “I don’t feel comfortable with so many gifts. You’ve already given me a whole set for Christmas.” I don’t need jewels, Ethan. I want a loving boyfriend.

  “Indulge me, please, baby,” he asked her sweetly, begging with his eyes.

  How can I say no when he asks like this? She let him tow her into the shop. Just a small ring or a pendant wouldn’t hurt.

  The instant they entered, a beautiful woman came to greet them with a big smile on her face. “Mr. Ashford, good afternoon.”

  “Good afternoon.” He smiled brightly and the woman melted at his charm. “We have an appointment with Mr. Arkade.”

  “Of course. He’s expecting you.” The woman eyed Sophia speculatively, taking notice of her purple wool Carolina Herrera dress with a deep V-neckline and multicolored patchwork bag, and black lambskin Chanel high-heel booties. She opened a door at the back of the shop and motioned them to follow. “May I take your coats?”

  Sophia handed her dark gray overcoat trimmed with purple and lilac fox fur and almost asked the woman if she was approved to be inside the jewelry shop.

  “Please, be seated. Mr. Arkade will be here in a moment. Would you like something to drink?”

  “Still water, please.”

  “The same for me.” Ethan smiled at the woman who grinned at him, bewitched by his charm.

  “Is it always like this?” asked Sophia, amused.

  “Like what?” he frowned.

  “You charming everyone and women falling at your feet?” She giggled and put a hand on her mouth. “Oh, my. I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Mr. Ashford, you’re a danger to my sanity.”

  “The only woman I’m interested in is here in this room.” And you have not fallen at my feet. Yet. He grinned at her and his blue eyes flamed. “Let me see your watch.”

  She extended her arm for him to look at her Franck Muller Aeternitas Mega Four.

  “Take it off, please,” he asked.

  She shook her head. Not this one.

  “Why not?” He frowned. “Is it a fake?”

  “Of course not,” she replied with indignation. “It’s a work of art.”

  “Yes, it is. It is one of the most complex wristwatches in the world, to be looked at in three-hundred-and-sixty degrees. Please?” He eyed her sideways.

  Sophia relented, wary.

  As he turned the watch, he noticed an engraving on the leather bracelet.

  Para G., o amor da minha vida.

  Eternamente sua, S. 27/09/2002

  “What is written here?” he asked, wanting his own translation to be wrong.

  “It’s Portuguese. For G., the love of my life. Forever yours, S.”

  Forever yours? He stiffened. “Who is G?”

  Not telling. She sighed. “My late husband.”

  “You got married when you were eighteen years old?” he thundered. His hand closed around the watch, his knuckles white.

  “Ethan…please.” She opened her hand to receive the watch back.

  His anger was boiling. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I married when I was seventeen. On September the twenty-seventh, two-thousand-one.”

  “You were only a child. How old was he?” His azure eyes were bright with an undefined emotion. Was your husband a pedophile?

  “I don’t discuss my husband. Not with you, not with anyone. I don’t feel like it. It’s a part of my life that has ended.” Her low, sorrowful voice and tear-filled eyes cut deep within him. They were worse than shouts.

  “Give me my watch back. My husband is dead. Six feet under. Cold and alone.” Her voice choked and she snatched the watch from his hand. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?” I wish I weren’t. I wish I were buried with Gabriel.
“Why are you spoiling for a fight? Do you want me to leave?”

  “No.” He stared at her, surprised. His thumbs dried the wetness from her eyes. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’ve told you I don’t like you wearing things other men gave you.”

  “Let’s not argue about this, please,” she pleaded in a whisper.

  Understanding dawned on her. This is more than jealousy. And this is more than a fetish. It’s absolutely ridiculous, Ethan. You’re trying to dictate who I can be while I am with you. This is abuse.

  The woman knocked on the door, bringing two crystal glasses of water on a small silver tray. She put it on the table and hastily exited the room, returning with Mr. Arkade and trays loaded with jewels.

  “Mr. Ashford, it’s an honor to receive you again.” He shook hands with Ethan and nodded at Sophia. “Mademoiselle, it’s a pleasure.”

  Sophia acknowledged the little man. What am I doing here? I’m no frivolous woman to accept jewels from a man I barely know.

  “So, Mr. Ashford, do you have something specific in mind?”

  “It’s up to the lady. But I thought about Van Cleef.” He turned to Sophia. “You like Van Cleef, don’t you? Perhaps you prefer something different?”

  “Anything you feel like.”

  Mr. Arkade motioned for his assistant to put the trays on the table and started sorting through them. “I have some beautiful butterfly diamond clips and necklaces.”

  “Ah…nothing with butterflies, please.”

  “Why not?” Ethan asked her.

  She grimaced. “I don’t like them.”

  “Any preference of color or gem?”

  “Sapphires, emeralds, rubies, and diamonds.” Ethan enumerated the gems as if they were buttons. “Do you have the new catalogue?”

  Louise handed Ethan a leather covered book. “This is the latest one, sir. Of course, we have the previous. As you know Van Cleef is timeless.”

  He waved her to put the other catalogues on the table as he peered through the first book. “Hmm…I’d like to see this,” he showed a page to Louise. “And the matching complements.” He turned over two more pages. “Also this set with the matching ring.” He passed some more pages and leafed back. “And this one. Come on, Sophia, take a look at the others.”

  “Ethan, I’m sure I’m going to like whatever you choose,” she murmured, and drank her water, licking her lips.

  He tsked and his eyes flamed, sparkling blue fire. He leaned toward her and breathed in her ear. “Do that again and I will buy you the entire shop.”

  Louise returned with big black velvet trays. The first contained an exquisite set of beaded sapphires and diamonds: a remarkable necklace, earrings, and two rings. “This is the Medusa set.”

  So uncomfortable she became speechless, Sophia only nodded.

  “You can detach the clip and the necklace becomes all diamond. And you can use it as a tiara,” she explained it as if Sophia wouldn’t know how to do it. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Beautiful,” Sophia agreed, annoyed. He is buying your affection. And the saleswoman is treating you like an idiot.

  “The Makis set, sir.” Louise gave the other tray to Ethan. On it were displayed a stunning bracelet made of emeralds, rubellites, black spinel and diamonds with flowers, leaves, and cute tiny lemurs with matching earrings, an extraordinary clip, and a wondrous necklace. She showed Ethan the back of the clip. “And this clip, Mr. Ashford, turns into a pendant.”

  “That’s it! Perfect.” He showed it to Sophia. “Do you like them?”

  Of course. Who wouldn’t? “It’s a timepiece, isn’t it?” she asked Mr. Arkade, and he bobbed his head at her with a big grin on his odd face. She fingered the tiny lemur and opened the flower that covered the watch. “It’s…exquisite.”

  “Put it on, Sophia,” Ethan coaxed.

  I’m not selling my soul. She placed the bracelet back on the tray. God…I shouldn’t have come inside the shop. Now I’m trapped.

  “Please,” he whispered in her ear.

  Please?! This is smothering. She frowned. Uncertain, she bit her lip and tried the least grand of the rings. If only there was something less expensive on these two trays.

  “Now,” he said, and his hand cupped her chin, his thumb caressing her lip. “You like the sapphire set?” Why am I not pleasing her?

  I have to think of a way out without hurting his feelings. “I cannot accept, Ethan.” This bears no affection. No love.

  “Choose something different, then.” His disappointment was visible on his face.

  Can’t he understand? I’m not even a…fiancée, girlfriend. Whatever. She lifted her shoulders. “You can choose.” Choose something with meaning. It doesn’t matter the size or the price. It’s the meaning that’s important.

  He motioned to the other trays. “Please, Sophia.”

  “You don’t like them, ma’am?” Mr. Arkade’s smile waned.

  Sophia took pity on the businessman. “It’s not that I don’t like them, sir. Far from it,” she murmured, and looked at Ethan. She put her hand over his. “They’re dazzling, but it’s too much. Really, there is no need.”

  “You like it?” Ethan asked again, relieved.

  If I choose one, I’ll look like a slut. If I let him choose and buy them all, I’ll look worse. And if I walk away empty-handed he will be hurt. Nervous, she bit her lip and nodded.

  He leaned toward her and murmured, “You’re doing it again.” He turned to Louise. “We’re taking both.”

  “NO!” she shouted, surprised, and tried to reason with him. “Just the—”

  He rose, completely ignoring what Sophia was about to say and concluded the purchase. “Mr. Arkade, my driver is going to come by to pick up both sets in half an hour. I expect you at my office tomorrow by ten.”

  “Ethan, no.” She sat there stunned. What a mess. And you still have to thank the man.

  “Louise, I see that you have good taste.” He bestowed a smile on the saleswoman, who liquefied into a puddle at his feet. “Please, add a diamond necklace for the Makis clip.”

  “Of course, Mr. Ashford.” Louise ran to retrieve their coats and helped Sophia put hers on.

  Ethan turned to Sophia with such a happy smile on his face that she got even more confused. “I’m so glad that you like my choices, darling. You will make them shine as no one else could ever do.”

  She didn’t know if she should feel offended, and if his intentions were good but just misguided.

  But as always, Sophia preferred to see the good side of people.

  She rose on her tiptoes and kissed Ethan briefly on the lips. “Thank you.”

  Good. Now, I want my payment. “You’re more than welcome. Now you’re only missing some watches.” You’ll never again wear things other men gave you.

  Wilkins appeared as soon as they walked out of the shop.

  Ethan entered the car after her, ordering on the intercom, “Home, please, Wilkins.”

  Okay, Sophia. Say it. Sophia caressed his jaw, his beard softly tickling the palm of her hand. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I’d rather you refrained from your purchase impulses. I don’t feel altogether at ease with so many gifts. It’s smothering me.”

  He caged her face in his hands and gave her a long, overwhelming kiss that distracted her from her musings. “Baby, you’ll have to learn. It’s a fetish of mine. It arouses me to dress and pamper you,” he said huskily.

  She looked at him, searching for the truth, but his eyes were shining, excited and bright. Yeah, so it seems.

  “So, what am I bound to discover under this dress of yours?” His hand wandered up her thigh and his smile turned naughty.

  The desire on his face awakened Sophia’s. “Aren’t we impatient today, Mr. Ashford?”

  “Jesus, Sophia,” he exclaimed when his fingers touched her skin, “you turn me on like no woman ever has. I want you. Here, now.”

  She froze then opened and shut her mouth twice before she could speak.
“Here?”

  “There’s enough room,” he said, trailing kisses along her jaw and neck. “I’ve been giving this idea some thought. Why not try it?” He raised his head to look at her and spoke on her lips, “To start with.”

  The rich tone of his baritone voice washed over her. Oh. This is naughty.

  He kissed her. His tongue traced her lips and dipped in her mouth, coaching, caressing, yearning.

  “Ethan, we’re too near.” She looked out at the window. “We’re almost there.”

  “I can order Wilkins to drive until I say so.” He moved to press the intercom and she gripped his wrist.

  “No. Absolutely not.” She tried to stand her ground. “We can kiss, we can fondle, but we aren’t doing it in the car. At least, not today.”

  “Okay, okay.” He put his palms up in a peaceful gesture and then picked her up in his arms and settled her on his lap. “So, Ms. Santo,” he said with a wicked smile, “let me fondle you until the garage.”

  Sophia! You and your big mouth. She started to scold herself but her thoughts scattered away as his fingers brushed aside her panties and gently touched her. She let her head fall back on the car window. “Oh.”

  He shifted, angling his head to kiss her.

  Her fingers threaded through his silky hair, clenching it and pulling him down for a hard kiss.

  She felt his arousal against her thigh as she wiggled under his expert ministrations.

  He kissed her neck and her shoulder, pushing aside the top of the sleeve with his mouth and kissed the place he’d bared. He lifted his head and she thought he’d given up, but then he inhaled deeply and put the fingers he fondled her with in his mouth. And sucked.

  Sophia gasped at the erotic scene and threw reason aside.

  “Dammit!” she exclaimed, and straddled him, her hands fumbling impatiently with his belt and zipper.

  She reached down and placed her hand over his tented underwear where his erection pushed against the cloth.

  His deep moan filled the car as he raised his hips to push down his clothes and his mouth descended on her neck, scattering kisses along the dress’s neckline. He brushed her dress aside, his tongue dipping under and following the contouring of her bra’s lace edging.

 

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