Shades of Trust

by Cristiane Serruya

  “They can wait. I need to talk to you.” His eyes feasted on her; he couldn’t get enough. “Ten minutes.”

  “Can you wait ten minutes? The meeting is ending. I won’t tarry.” Her fingers combed through his hair, loving the silky feel of it. “If you’re free, we could go to The Athenaeum and have tea, scones with Regents Park honey and Honeycomb Marquis,”—she glanced at her Crazy Hours watch, and licked her lips, suddenly hungry—“mmm in twenty minutes?”

  He inhaled a deep breath, his features relaxing. “I’ll wait.”

  “Great.” She picked up the phone and directed Sarah to make the booking. “Do you want something? Water, coffee?”

  “Just a book or a newspaper.”

  “There.” She grabbed his hand and towed him to the shelf behind her desk. She smiled and reached up to brush the back of her fingers over his jaw. “It won’t take longer than fifteen minutes. We’ve covered virtually everything.”

  “Don’t linger.” He bent to kiss her lips lightly and tugged her braid, in a playful warning. “Or I’ll have to punish you.”

  His sensuous devilish smile slowly formed on his face and something dark and perilous glinted in his eyes.

  “Hmm,” it was almost a moan. “I think I’ll be late then.” What kind of punishment, Alistair Connor?

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Aye, by all means, do. His eyes flickered to the sofa. Big enough. He looked at his pink gold Audemars Piguet watch and raised both devil-black eyebrows at her. “You’re wasting time, Sophia.”

  She whirled, looked over her shoulder at him, a curl on her lips, her big, clear eyes betraying her arousal, and exited the room as he hungrily stared at her gentle sway.

  Alistair closed his BMW door and swooped her into his embrace, a cautious but intense look in his face. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I do you. “I’ve been dying for you all day.”

  She blinked at the potent desire in his voice. His hands undid the first buttons of her blouse, one by one, the inferno of his green eyes burning her slowly with anticipation.

  His fingers brushed over her neck and glided down to her collarbone. The warm air caressed the upper swell of her breasts encased only in a lacy bra as he brushed the material away and pulled her off the car seat onto his lap. “Just the thought of other men—”

  Other men? She put a finger on his lips. “There are no other men.”

  He twirled his tongue on her finger and sucked it into his mouth and Sophia’s breath hitched at the pure carnal feeling that washed over her body and gathered between her thighs.

  “Only you,” she whispered. What is your problem, Sophia? You need more therapy sessions. You need to tell Dr. Kent about this, too. Another jealous, neurotic, older man! Gabriel, then Ethan, and now Alistair. Sophia lost her line of thought as Alistair kissed her throat and glided his mouth to her breast.

  He desperately needed to touch her. The insecurity that had been eating at him all day waned as jealousy loosened its grip on his soul and he felt Sophia’s body surrender to passion under his mouth.

  He raised his eyelids to peer at her. “You’re so beautiful.” His hand palmed her breast and she hissed in a breath full of passion. “I want all of you, Sophia. I want to make love to you.”

  Make love… Her eyes closed for a moment before opening again mesmerized by him.

  Garrick’s voice interrupted them, “Mr. MacCraig, we’ll arrive at our destination in a minute.”

  Sophia scrambled back on the seat, away from Alistair, an alarmed look on her face. She fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, struggling to redo them hastily. “Can he hear us?”

  “Nae, of course not, Sophia,” he scowled.

  “Does he know what we’re up to back here?” She blushed, ashamed and angry at him, and at herself.

  “Nae. Absolutely no’.” A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “It’s just a habit of mine. I work in the car all the time and I don’t like being caught unprepared for any arrival.”

  “Hmm,” she answered noncommittally.

  He frowned at her. “I’ll never share you with another man, Sophia. Never.”

  “But will you share me with another woman?” God! Where did this spring from?

  He almost said ‘yes’, but a look on her face prevented it. More mixed signals, Sophia? Does the idea of a threesome appeal to you?

  Piccadilly, The Athenaeum

  4:59 p.m.

  Their arrival at 116 Piccadilly saved Alistair from answering as the liveried doorman opened the car door.

  I can provide a hot blonde in five minutes and we could go upstairs to a suite, forfeiting tea. His shy ray of sun hid behind the dark clouds. Never let it be said I don’t—

  A tug on his sleeve interrupted his lascivious dark thoughts.

  “Is everything okay?” Sophia looked at his drawn features with a confused expression.

  “Aye, everything is okay.” Stop this. He rocked his neck to one side and then the other, running a hand over his nape to relax the tension and picked up her hand and put it in the crook of his arm. “Just a little tense.”

  Sophia raised her eyebrow and glanced away, taking in the beautiful marble hall. Feeling strangely subdued, she said, “I asked Sarah to make the reservations in your name.”

  “Thanks,” he answered dryly, lost in his thoughts.

  They approached a blonde waiting at the corner of the entrance to the Garden Room. “MacCraig, two people, and we would like a table overlooking the garden, if possible.”

  “Sophia.”

  Her name, pronounced in a low tone of command, stopped her midway down to her armchair. She looked up and he motioned with his left hand. “On the sofa, please.”

  He sat beside her on the plush settee.

  “We’re ready to order,” he said to the maître, waving the menus away. “I’ll have the Evergreen Tea with Earl Grey. The lady will have the Regent Park Honey Tea.” He closed his menu and looked at Sophia. “What is your choice of tea?”

  “Soom,” she told the maître.

  “Thank you. Your tea will be here in a few minutes.”

  Alistair shifted to better look at Sophia and twirled her long braid with his fingers.

  His eyes looked troubled. “Alistair, what’s bothering you?”

  “Nothing. Pay me no heed. I had a strange afternoon,” he lied and changed the subject abruptly. “I accepted my father’s invitation to go to Craigdale Castle tomorrow for the weekend. It’s my brother’s birthday. Something small—just family. He doesn’t want a party.”

  “Oh, really?” she inquired, and he answered with a small nod. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Miss me?” He frowned and informed, succinctly, “You’re going with me.”

  She paused, mid-breath. The sentence baffled her. “I. Am. Going?” Is this an order, Alistair Connor? Another one?

  “Aye. My father has been pestering me to bring you.” His lips curled up slightly. “Seems that Alice and Leonard have been gossiping.”

  “Hmm…” He wants to introduce me to his father and younger brother? She wondered if this was good or bad. “I can’t leave Gabriela this weekend.” Lying now? She felt guilt filling her up. Well, it’s not a lie. Then she acknowledged, aggravated, that she was afraid.

  “The thought never crossed my mind. Of course she’ll come with us.” The tightness of his features lessened when his lips curled in a beautiful smile. “She’s got me wrapped around her little finger.”

  She crossed her legs and leaned back on the arm of the sofa away from him, chewing her lips. Her braid fell away from his hand. “I’m not so sure about this.”

  “What do you mean?” Alistair felt her withdrawing and became alert. He bent in her direction and recaptured her long braid, this time coiling it securely around his wrist possessively.

  “Well…it’s going to be a family gathering. I don’t want to intrude. It’s your brother’s birthday and I—”

  She halted as a waiter arrived with the special finger sandwiche
s of honey roasted ham and caramelized goat’s cheese, baked orange blossom scones, and toasted crumpets with the Regents Park honey, homemade jam, lemon curd, and Devonshire clotted cream.

  Sophia’s mouth watered and she licked her lips as their tea was served.

  Alistair almost shuddered with repressed desire. As soon as the waiter left, he prompted her. “You were saying?”

  Her thumb and index finger unconsciously caressed the place where her wedding ring should be. “That I’m not going.”

  The waiter returned with the rest of their selection and Alistair almost barked at him to go away.

  “You’re. Not. Going.” His voice was dark as he scowled at her fingers’ movements. “I don’t understand you, Sophia.”

  She tapped her boot nervously on the floor. “It’s too soon—”

  “It’s not too soon, Sophia. I’m going. And you’re going with me,” he stated. “Period.”

  She sighed and stole a peek at him; he was once again poker-faced, but watching her fingers’ telltale caress.

  What should I do? She leaned over to pick up a scone and spread lemon curd on it. She bit into it, turning her face away to look at the garden, avoiding his eyes. For the first time, she felt very much afraid and unsure. Sweet and sour flavors exploded on her tongue, but were lost on Sophia as she debated with herself. He wants to take you to his childhood home. “I have a long day tomorrow.” She wavered in her decision. He has been respecting you so far. A perfect gentleman. He’s doing everything right and you’re still undecided?

  He held her braid again and tugged at it, a touch of savagery in it. His green eyes flickered. “I’m sure your boss will allow you to leave early.”

  “I’m not free before two o’clock, though,” she ceded. “Is that okay? What time is the flight?”

  And all of a sudden, Alistair felt a hard slam in his chest where his heart had been lying dead for so long. I’m…happy?

  Unsettled by the feeling, he leaned in and kissed her, letting desire and lust override the other emotion.

  She pushed him away when the kiss got too heated. “We’re in a restaurant.”

  “Hidden by curtains,” he said.

  “I’d rather you behaved,” she scolded.

  “Okay.” He put his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “I can pick up Gabriela and your luggage first, and then you.”

  “Thanks. You’re a saint.”

  A short laugh escaped his chest. A deep, masculine sound that made her respond with a pleasurable shudder. He curled his fingers under her chin and lifted it, compelling her to look at him. “Beauty. I’ve already told you, I’m not a saint. Not at all. By the way, the two of us are going out tonight. I made reservations for us at nine o’clock.”

  “Where?”

  “Surprise.” His smile showed that his unpredictable mood had changed.

  “Why do men always do this?” She huffed. “How can I dress accordingly if I don’t know where I’m going?”

  “Do you want to know the dress code of the restaurant?”

  “Sure.”

  “It is as beautiful and elegant as Sophia is.”

  “You—you—”

  He laughed. “Yes?”

  Caveman. “Oh, forget it.” She picked up her teacup and sipped. “Just forget it.”

  Chapter 8

  Atwood House

  6:30 p.m.

  When Sophia entered the hall, Gabriela was waiting for her, hopping from one foot to the other. “Mamãe, are we going? Are we?”

  “Good evening, my angel. How was your day?” Sophia said, smiling at the girl’s happiness.

  “Good evening, Mamãe. My day was great,” Gabriela slowed for a second, submitting to her mother’s after-work routine. “And yours?”

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “Great!” She started jumping again. “Ariadne called me to say that her grandfather had invited us to Craigdale Castle. She says it’s huuuuuge.”

  “Yes, we are going,” she confirmed. “Alistair’s going to pick you up. Be ready by one thirty, all right?”

  “I will. Uncle Felipe called. He’s going to call again tomorrow.”

  Sophia took a long, luxuriant bath, then blow-dried and brushed her hair and took special care covering her bruise.

  She sprayed perfume in the air, and smiled at the young vibrant woman in the mirror, dressed in a dark purple silk tank top, a matching pencil skirt, and a Hermès dark-brown belt with a silver buckle.

  As soon as she saw Alistair’s car, Sophia left the cocoon of the garden for the street, turning and waving good-bye to Steven, who closed the side gates.

  The purring sound of the Z4 engine reminded her of Gabriel, suddenly making her sad. It’s not a time for sadness. She put a smile on her face when he got out of the car. “Hi.”

  “Hi, Beauty.” His mood was light and he kissed her for a long time. He entangled his fingers in her hair and his hands cupped her face, bringing it into the light. He noticed her moist eyes and frowned. “Everything okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine, right. So why are you sad?”

  She smiled gloomily, “It’s nothing.”

  He leaned on the car and pulled her between his legs, his arms around her waist. “I’m just as stubborn as you. We’ll stay here, freezing, until you tell me why you’re sad.”

  “It’s really nothing. Don’t mind—”

  “Ah-ah,” he put two fingers over her lips, shaking his head, “no lies. I know you. And the thing is: I mind.”

  Oh, Alistair. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you. She sighed. “Memories.”

  “Gabriel?” He felt a pang of jealousy.

  She breathed deep, and shoved the memories to her heart, succeeding in giving him a bright smile. “But the sadness was gone the minute you arrived. Let’s go. I’m hungry.”

  “I’m hungry too.” He hauled her in his embrace and kissed her fiercely. “But it’s not food I desire.”

  Shoreditch, Boundary

  10:55 p.m.

  “It’s impressive how you know these cozy and secluded restaurants,” Sophia remarked before placing the first spoonful of dessert in her mouth and closing her eyes to savor the chocolate soufflé with mixed berry sauce.

  There she goes again. I shouldn’t have suggested a dessert. “You don’t like it here?”

  She nodded, opening her eyes and licking the spoon, oblivious to the seductive way she ate dessert. “Very much. These alcoves are so charming. Dark and secluded.” As is your mood, sometimes.

  “I’ll take you upstairs after. They have a stunning roof garden terrace with two olive trees over a hundred years old and a unique humidor. Do cigars bother you?”

  She laughed. “I smoke cigars, Alistair.”

  His eyes crinkled at the sides when his smile opened up. “Aren’t you a surprise?”

  “Of course I am. You still don’t really know me.” She shrugged and glanced at him sideways. “A good surprise, I hope.”

  “Yes, a good surprise.” But I want to know you, Sophia. He shifted on the sofa and his scent clouded her senses.

  “You smell so good,” she breathed, the spoon forgotten in her hand.

  He merely smiled at her praise and directed the spoon to her mouth, feeding her. “I’ve never seen you smoke.”

  “I don’t smoke in front of Gabriela. And I like company when I do it. There’s still a lot we don’t know about each other.”

  “Aye, there is,” he answered quietly, a strange look shimmering on his features. He waited for her to finish her dessert then said, “Give me your left hand and close your eyes.”

  She eyed him with a playful distrusting look.

  “Come on. Indulge me. First, give me your watch.” He wriggled his fingers at her. She gave him the Aeternitas watch and he carefully set it on the table. “Good girl. Now, close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so.”

  She did as he asked and felt his warm hand circling her wrist. Something cold touched her skin
and her eyelids fluttered.

  “Ah-ah!” he warned, hastily stopping what he was doing and putting a hand over her eyes. “I’m not finished.”

  Her forehead creased. “What’s taking so long?”

  “It’s not every day I enslave a woman like you,” he said huskily.

  “Liar,” she whispered and smiled. “You’ve already enslaved me.”

  “Not the way I want to.” It was a promise. “A few more seconds…not yet…”

  She felt a cold bracelet being released on her wrist.

  “You can open your eyes.” Alistair held her hand for her to look, her watch still on the table.

  She looked down and then stared at him, her smile fading. “Alistair…”

  “You don’t like it?” he asked, disappointed.

  “No. I mean, yes.” Damn! She shook her head, staring at the Cartier Love collection bracelet in white gold, paved with diamonds and bigger diamond studs. “It is exquisite. I love it.” This bracelet symbolizes both love and possession. So the question is, what is the meaning behind this gift? She grinned at him. “It’s just that you surprised me with it.”

  “Why?” He didn’t look convinced.

  “This is a slave bracelet.”

  “Aye, it is.” He cupped her face in his hands and gazed intently into her eyes. “And I’m keeping the screwdriver.”

  Oh, my. How significant he made a gift become with a simple sentence. “You are keeping it,” she repeated breathlessly, totally ensnared by the beacon of his forest-green eyes.

  She mused about the difference between Ethan’s and Alistair’s gifts.

  Ethan had showered her with extremely expensive presents just because he could; a way to buy her affection.

  Now, Alistair was giving her a much simpler jewel, with so much emotion and meaning attached to it.

  And her thoughts turned to the similarities between Alistair and Gabriel and it made her heart squeeze in her chest. “I’ll treasure it. Thank you.”

  “Allow yourself to become one with me, Sophia. Let me possess you.” His lips hovered close to hers. “All of you.”

  His mouth descended on her and his tongue licked her bottom lip. As she parted her lips to breathe, he kissed her, heatedly.