Shades of Trust

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Salisbury Plain, Stonehenge

Saturday, February 27, 2010

07:45 a.m.

“Wait, Sophia,” Alistair shouted too late. Sophia had already jumped graciously out of the helicopter. He shook his head, aggravated, and unbuckled Gabriela’s harness. “Your mother is quite stubborn, isn’t she, Fairy?”

“No, she is not,” Gabriela answered immediately. “She’s courageous. Not stubborn.”

Alistair smiled, and got off the helicopter, carrying Gabriela in his arms. “Ready for some mystery, Fairy?” he asked in a secretive voice, as they followed the uniformed guide who escorted them on a private tour inside the circle of Stonehenge.

“Yes,” she whispered back, “I love tales.”

Sophia bit back a smile as she eyed the interaction between her daughter and Alistair.

“Do you know who King Arthur was, Gabriela?” He watched her little face and she nodded. “So, according to legend, a long, long time ago, there was a very ugly war here on which lots of English soldiers died and were buried in Salisbury Plain.”

“Poor guys.” Gabriela listened with rapt attention. “And?”

“King Aurelius Ambrosius, Arthur’s uncle wanted to build a monument to the slain soldiers. A big, big one to represent their bravery.” Alistair smiled at her and pushed a curl of blonde hair behind her ear, which the cold wind had blown out of her ponytail. “So, he enlisted the help of a wizard, called Merlin, who told him about a circle of stones in Ireland called the Giants’ Dance. The king sent the wizard and his brother to get the stones and bring them here.”

“Why did they call them the Giants’ Dance?”

“Because they were giants who were dancing and celebrating something they shouldn’t have and their punishment was to be turned into stone.”

“How did they move the stones here?”

“With the wizard’s magic.” Alistair struggled to restore order to his strands falling over his eyes because of the wind.

Gabriela thrust her little fingers in his hair, keeping it away from his eyes and said, “I’ve told you already. You have to cut your hair.”

Alistair laughed and Sophia smiled.

The sun rose above the horizon painting the monument and the ground with yellow, orange, and pink hues.

Sophia breathed in the frigid morning air, enchanted with the sight and the perfection of the moment. But then her smile fell as a thought scared the hell out of her. Is this for real?

The early morning wind had waned into a soft breeze that still tousled Alistair’s long black hair.

Sophia lifted her hand to touch the silky strands, brushing them to uncover his eyes.

“Gabriela keeps reminding me I have to cut it,” he said, smiling.

“I like it this way. Don’t ever cut it short,” she ordered.

He wound his left fingers in her very long hair until he held a fistful at her nape. “As long you keep yours like this.”

“Done,” she agreed, a mischievous look entering her eyes. “It’s this cut that gives away the…barbarian inside you.”

He blinked, amused. “Barbarian?”

She entwined her fingers in it and pulled his head down. “It reminds me of the legend of Highland warriors. Fierce, courageous men, with a battle cry on their lips.”

“Legend? We’re not a legend.” His hand brushed her hair back, exposing her throat. He raised an eyebrow as his fingers caressed the column of her neck. Oh, Sophia, what I could do to you. “You like barbarians? Savages?”

“I like intense men,” she whispered and parted her lips, nervously wetting them with the tip of her tongue.

It was everything he needed. He took full advantage of her opened lips, touching her mouth with a feathery kiss, his tongue meeting hers. He stood there for a moment, simply enjoying her sweet taste. Her tentative touch on his nape undid him and his hands circled her slim waist, jerking her to his body, pressing her to him as he devoured her mouth, thrusting his tongue deep, mimicking what he wanted to do with his body.

“Gabriela.” Sophia broke the kiss, panting.

Alistair looked over his shoulder at the little girl bundled on his overcoat on the grass. “She’s sleeping.” And once more he dropped his head to kiss her. Her taste was like a drug he wanted to be addicted to.

All thoughts flew away as their tongues danced and he felt her pliant body leaning heavily against his hard, chiseled form. Her scent branded him. He pulled her even closer, his hands wandering down her back, cupped her butt, pressing her against his painful erection.

They gasped in each other’s mouths when his hand touched her waist and his fingers skimmed up her spine.

“So soft, Sophia,” he breathed the words out, and his mouth glided over her jaw to her ear and he bit her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth.

A shot of pure, undeniable lust whipped through Sophia’s body and she flexed herself on him, completely lost in his caresses. His feathery touch climbed up her body to intimately cup a breast encased in a skimpy lace bra and he circled his thumb over her n****e, reveling in the low moan that escaped her throat.

“Too much. Too fast,” Sophia managed to say, between heaves. “We are a few feet away from Gabriela.” Her hand stayed his. “And Alistair, we’re in a public park.”

He stared at her, eyes glazed with need. “Ye make me forget where I am.”

She rested her forehead on his chest, trying to control her breathing.

“Sophia.” His hand encircled her throat, a thumb lifting her chin and in his eyes blistered hot green flames. “You’re unraveling me. Are ye doing it on purpose?”

She looked up into his eyes, “I’m just being me.”

His hand stayed on her throat, not letting go, a fierce anger taking control of him. It is just lust, remember.

Sophia glanced at his face.

He looked down at her, scrutinizing her face and an intense emotion unfurled as his sun peeked out from behind the dark clouds of his sky. Immediately, he shoved it down deep into his darkness. She’s just another woman.

He took her mouth in a searing kiss, pouring into her all of his confusion about how she made him feel. Feel? I don’t want to feel anymore. His hand removed her hair from the path his mouth traced from her ear to the base of her neck.

Moaning low in her throat, she gave him room.

His fingers tightened on her waist, pulling her against his frame.

She gasped as she felt his erection print itself on her belly She pulled away, panting, and stepping back, put a hand on his chest. “Alistair. Stop.”

With a scowl, he led her to sit near Gabriela, leaning his back on a tree and nestling her between his firm thighs, an arm snaked around her, his erection pressed on her hip. “I’m sorry.” f**k. What am I apologizing for? “When I have you in my arms, all my thoughts and reasoning fly out the window.” You’re driving me mad. “I have to have you, Sophia.”

“You cannot expect me to go to bed with you after such a short time.”

“Why not?” he whispered roughly. “I’ve been aching for you since the day I met you. And I know you feel the same. We’re grown-ups and we both have been married. You know me.” His fingers caressed her neck and wandered down, pausing at the swell of her breast. He whispered, “Let me know you.”

She took his hand and put it below her left breast, pressing it on her ribs. “Can you feel my heart? I do want you, but…we need to talk about what is happening between us.”

Talk is never good. He didn’t want her rationalizing what was happening between them. Their attraction was magical, intense, and aggressive even, and had nothing to do with reason. “About?”

“Things are going too fast. I need more time. We have to slow down before it gets out of hand.”

“Slow down?” Is the woman a nun? Christ! He felt rejected. He felt denied. Never had a woman asked him to slow down.

“I want you, but I don’t want to rush things this time.” She stared at his taut, serious face. “So, yes, slow down.”

“Slow. Down.” He released a breath. “I don’t know if I can.”

A long silence ensued between them.

Sophia watched as he schooled his features into his usual poker face and hooded his eyes, so she wouldn’t see the irritation in them.

She licked her lips. “You okay?”

“Aye.” He expelled a long breath. “Aye, I am.”

Sophia shook her head and shifted in his embrace to better look at his eyes. “The thing is…I don’t know if we should insist on this relationship. I’m not the kind of woman you’re used to. I don’t do one-night stands. I don’t have s*x just for s*x. I need something more than a hello-let’s-go-to-bed handshake to…” Make love? Sophia’s bitter laugh echoed inside her. She bit her lip and tapped her fingers on her thigh. I’m an i***t. He doesn’t do relationships. A complete i***t.

He noticed her ticks. He remembered them well from that day at the pool.

“I wonder if I—”

He lifted his hand and softly put his fingers on her mouth, interrupting her words. He shifted her to straddle his lap and his fingers curled under her chin to raise her face to him. He breathed deep, exhaling slowly, deep in his thoughts, because he didn’t know what he was going to propose or say to convince her. In fact, Alistair was avoiding getting in touch with his feelings. “Listen to me.”

Sophia waited, studying his handsome face.

“Slow down,” he repeated to himself, as if he were unable to believe he was going to agree with such a thing.

A quietness surrounded them and the only sounds she could hear were the chirps of the birds perched high on the tree he reclined on.

His fingers absentmindedly caressed her lips while he looked into the distance, trying to decide what to say. His green gaze locked onto hers and he whispered, “I desire you as I never have anyone else.”

When she didn’t say anything, an almost pained breath escaped his lips and he softly conceded, “All right, Beauty. This is not normal behavior for me. I don’t usually—I don’t do relationships. Period.”

So, Edward is right. Sophia felt her heart tightening in her chest. She opened her lips and closed them again, insecure. Ah, damn you. “Well, I don’t do one-night stands,” she finally said. “So, this is the end—”

“Let me rephrase, then.” Alistair didn’t even flinch and his eyes flamed. “I didn’t do relationships. But if this is what it takes for me to have you, we are in a relationship.” A dark twist quickly curled his mouth and disappeared in a second but Sophia didn’t miss it. “I want you. And what I want, I get.”

Oh, please! Another Julius Caesar. “We shall see, won’t we?”

“I didn’t expect you to be such a prude, Sophia. After all, you’re no longer a virgin.” He immediately regretted his words when she winced.

“It’s not a question of prudishness. It’s simply that I…” It’s simply that I’m falling for you, and fate has taken everything from me once, and I’m too afraid to give in. “Call me old-fashioned if you will, but this is how I am.”

“I’ll wait for you. I’ll try my hardest, Sophia. Believe me. Just don’t torment me for long.”

Galewick Hall

Sunday, February 28, 2010

11:48 a.m.

With his perfectly stiff posture, Chambers stood at the edge of the pool. “Lord Ells?”

Alistair looked up from his place next to Sophia. “Aye?”

“The Duke of Craigdale is on the line, my lord. His Grace says it’s important.”

Alistair lifted himself on his arms and vaulted out of the pool. “I’ll take it. Please, transfer the call,” he said, picking up a towel and drying himself quickly before picking up the wireless receiver.

Sophia eyed Alistair with the phone in his hand, his brow creased.

“Father? Is something wrong?”

Alice glanced at Leonard, concerned. “Is it Tavish Uilleam?”

“Don’t worry. It’s probably just one of the horses,” he said, hauling her into his arms.

Alistair ended the call and said, “Leo is right. Problems with the foals. I’ll have to go up there again. Probably tomorrow or Tuesday.” He dove gracefully and his big, lean body glided underwater to Sophia’s side.

The perfect opportunity to broach the subject. “Why did Chambers address you as Lord Ells?”

“Because he is a pompous—”

“This might be, Sophia,” Leonard cut in, “because your boyfriend is the Marquis of Ells, heir to the dukedom of Craigdale.”

“I am not. My father is. Mine is a mere courtesy title,” he spoke dryly, his face turning hard as granite. “Nothing of importance. ‘It’s not titles that honor men…’”

“‘But men that honor title,’” Sophia finished the quote for him. I like this, Alistair Connor. Point to you. “Why do powerful men love to quote Machiavelli?”

“Because he wrote to help powerful men govern?” A ghost of a smile appeared on Alistair’s face. “The House of Medici and the city of Florence were great powers in Machiavelli’s time.”

“Would you prefer to be feared or loved, Lord Ells?”

He smiled crookedly at her, “You like quotes too, don’t you? So, it’s as Machiavelli said, ‘It is best to be both feared and loved; however, if one cannot be both it is better to be feared than loved’.”

“I’d rather be loved. Only loved,” she whispered to him.

On the way back to London

6:39 p.m.

“It’s impressive how Ariadne and Gabriela developed such a steady friendship,” Alistair commented, as he sped past Leonard’s Range Rover, where Sophia’s daughter sat, waving and giggling with her new best friend.

“She is starting to adapt.” Sophia smiled, appreciating Leonard’s and Alice’s efforts to make her and Gabriela feel at home. “Your sister is an angel.”

“Aye, right. More of a she-devil,” he snorted, teasing. “I was glad that she married young. Now, it’s Leo’s problem to tame her.”

Sophia laughed and let herself relax on the Z4’s plush leather seat, sighing contently, watching the pouring rain on the windshield. She toed off her shoes and froze as a sharp pain sliced through her head.

An icy chill ran through her spine and left her cold. Exactly as— The pain lessened, leaving an aching throb in her head. As what?

Her body stiffened and she fisted her hands so violently that her nails dug into her palms. What is it I’m supposed to remember? She looked at the man beside her, his powerful hands lightly steering the wheel.

Alistair’s left hand covered hers. “Relax, Beauty. You’re too tense.”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, studying his sharp profile, illuminated by the lights from the road.

He squeezed her hand and didn’t utter a word. His warm, large hand soothed her fears as his thumb caressed her inner wrist. “You’re biting your lip and still staring,” he murmured, his gaze leaving the road to glance at her.

She laughed. “How do you know I’m biting my lip while you drive?”

He shrugged, still looking at her.

“Eyes on the road,” she ordered.

“You like to give orders, don’t you?” He smiled slowly, his rugged features transforming him into something otherworldly. His forest-green eyes blazed with power and heat. “I know, because it’s you, Beauty. From the moment you entered that meeting room, I’ve breathed and felt nothing but you. You have me absurdly tuned to you. You,” he spoke the last word under his breath, almost to himself.

She chewed her bottom lip, nervously, as she pondered what she should say and decided he didn’t need an answer.

“So, what are we going to do tonight?” he asked.

“Nothing. Not tonight. I can’t…” Her voice trembled.

“Why not?”

Sophia sank her teeth into her lip harder to control the sudden need to weep and sob. The pain in her head got worse and she put a hand on her temple.

His hand squeezed hers again and he peered at her pale face. “What is it, Sophia?” he asked tenderly. “Do you feel sick?”

“No.” She lowered her eyelids, hiding the pain inside her eyes. “I have a headache.”

He yanked his hand from hers and stopped the car brusquely on the hard shoulder. He turned his body to look at her, narrowing his eyes. “Why are you lying?”

Alistair’s sensitivity startled Sophia.

“What are you going to do tonight, Sophia?” he pressed on.

“Nothing.” She bit her lip again and looked at her hands.

“So, why can’t we go out?”

“I don’t feel like going out.”

“You don’t. Feel like. Going out,” he bit out. “With me?” When she didn’t answer, he cupped her face in his hand. His distrust vanishing at the sight of her forming tears, his thumbs drying them as he examined her features, searching for a clue. “Shh. What’s wrong?”

Before she lost her courage, she blurted, “Tonight is the second anniversary of Gabriel’s kidnapping.”

Christ. What does one say to that? He grazed his knuckles on her cheek and pulled her into his arms, caressing her back, soothingly. “I’m sorry.”

After a few minutes, he started the car again, pulling onto the road, looking straight ahead, his lips thinned in a harsh line.

Atwood House

7:08 p.m.

Sophia rose from Gabriela’s bed and tenderly tucked the covers around her.

Oh, my angel, you look so much like your father. She stood there for a moment, watching her daughter’s steady breathing and then looked at Gabriel’s photo on the shelf, an immense sorrow took hold of her soul. Why did they take you away from me, my love?

Her eyes filled with tears and she let them fall at last. I promise I’ll keep you in my heart, Gabriel. Always.

She went to her room and called Felipe. Only her brother could understand her.