Shades of Trust

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Sophia waited for Alistair at the garden gates. She’d covered her bruises with concealing makeup and wore a dark-brown Chanel overcoat which partially covered a knee-length, burnt-red, heavy lace dress with a deep décolletage from Valentino with a brown belt, and chocolate leather platform high-heels.

Gabriela waited with her, dressed in her overcoat, bunny pajamas and sneakers with her nanny, Maria, who stood ready to return her to bed.

Although wary of Gabriela getting attached to Alistair, Sophia didn’t have the heart to deny her daughter’s wish to see him.

Sophia’s stomach did a somersault when she heard a purring motor outside. That must be him.

She took a deep breath when Steven and Devon opened the gates for her.

Stepping outside, a vision of sheer masculinity dressed in a black blazer and a light gray turtleneck sweater with dark gray jeans that enhanced his legs rewarded Sophia.

Alistair noticed her and gave her a grin of even, white teeth.

In a flash, Gabriela passed under her mother’s arm and ran to him, with Steven following close behind.

Alistair picked her up and whirled her in the air to Gabriela’s delighted squeals.

“She likes him a lot, Mrs. Leibowitz, and I think he does, too,” Maria said in Portuguese.

“So it seems, Maria.” Sophia strolled up to them as Gabriela whispered something in Alistair’s ear and he nodded to the little girl. “How are you, Alistair?”

“Not bad.” He smiled at her. “Not bad at all. And you?”

Better now. “I’m fine, thanks. Gabriela, Angel, go straight to bed, all right?”

“Ah…Sophia.” He winked at Gabriela and they looked sheepishly at her. “Gabriela just told me you’ve never taken her to the zoo.” As she shook her head, he continued, “Would you like to go tomorrow?”

“Please, Mamãe, please?” Gabriela begged.

“You two!” Sophia c****d her head, studying the man and the girl. Don’t get too involved like this. But Gabriela will love the zoo. “Okay. The zoo. Tomorrow.”

Gabriela threw her arms around Alistair’s neck, hugging and kissing him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Sophia took her from his arms and kissed her. “Bed. Now, Angel.”

The little girl ran into the house, giggling and waving.

Alistair grinned and waved back. He opened the door to his navy sports BMW for her. “She is a dear.”

“Yes, she is,” she answered, looking back at the gates and waving, observing as Steven locked them behind him.

“The Z4 is the right size for someone like you.” She smiled at him as he eased his long body behind the steering wheel.

“Aye. It’s quite difficult for me to fit inside sports cars. It is very rare to find the car I desire.”

She smiled, eyeing his long legs and broad shoulders. “I can imagine. Do you fit in a McLaren?”

“The Mercedes?” His eyes sparkled. “I do, but it’s more comfortable for me in the passenger’s seat.”

“Up for a ride?” She grinned mischievously at him.

“Good grief! You don’t drive one of those beasts!” He looked at her, startled.

“Why not? I told you I’m a hell of a driver. It’s so powerful. It gives a spectacular sensation of having control and being controlled.”

Uh? “Come again?” Alistair frowned. How do you manage that? Dominate and submit at the same time? Is this a new s****l game?

“It’s like riding a stallion or an untamed horse. You have to control it but you have to allow it to control you, too. It’s like a dance, a precise balance between giving and taking.” She unlaced her fingers and splayed them. Then snapped them shut and opened wide again. “You can lose everything with the wrong movement. An hour driving at high speed on a winding road? It’s one of the most satisfying experiences you can have. And it wears you out. It’s orgasmic.”

His desire was running rampant. So you like controlling too, don’t you, Sophia? “And you drive it to work?”

“No. It turns too many heads. Sometimes at night, when I need to unwind, I go for a drive. Alone.”

“You unwind driving? Every day?”

She laughed. “No. I run, workout, swim, fence—”

“And drive alone at night through winding roads…” He leaned in, causing the muscles of his arms and shoulders to bulge and stretch his blazer.

Sophia stared at him. her mesmerizing eyes going wide.

He gave her a knowing smile. “There is no need to unwind alone behind the wheel of a car to have an orgasm, Sophia,” he murmured and leaned in further. “I can help with that.”

“An org—” she gasped. The car suddenly became smaller. “No, I said it was orgasmic.”

“Same thing.” His eyes were burning her and he raised his hand to caress her face with his knuckles. “How long are you going to run and hide from the experiences I can provide you? Remember what I told you that afternoon in your apartment?”

“What? I don’t…” She shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

A blast from a horn startled him. The light had turned green.

Christ! Alistair Connor, pay attention. Alistair pressed on the gas.

Sophia changed the subject, “So, Mr. President of Scotland,” she mocked.

He smiled.

“You were born there, weren’t you?”

“Aye, in the Highlands, Inverness. My father is a Highlander and my mother was English, so we used to travel a lot to London with her. That’s why I don’t have such a strong accent.”

“Do you go there often?”

“I have to. Not only because of the bank but also because we have a stable and hotels there.”

They arrived at the Hélène Darroze at The Connaught and a liveried doorman opened the door for Sophia, momentarily interrupting the conversation.

After being seated, “We’ll have some champagne,” Alistair informed the sommelier, who handed him the champagne list. He surveyed it quickly and smiled to himself. Sophia, I’ll have you by the end of this evening. “Krug. Clos D’Ambonnay, please.”

Sophia waited for the sommelier to step away and turned on the sofa to look at Alistair. “What a coincidence. That’s my favorite champagne.”

“You have good taste. It’s mine, too,” he answered with a smile, putting his arm over the back of the sofa, his fingers brushing her hair.

Sophia stiffened a bit, but it didn’t deter Alistair from delving his fingers in her silky black tresses, the tip of his fingers caressing her neck.

Sophia shifted on the sofa, getting away from his hand, and he let his fingers fall.

“When did you move?” he asked.

“Last week. But I can’t say I have really moved, I’m camping.” She smiled. “But I couldn’t wait anymore. I was impatient and it’s easier to supervise everything from there. It’s almost finished—just needs a few final touches.”

“Why did you move? Your apartment was big enough for a single woman and a child. And it was beautifully decorated.”

“Yeah, it was nice. But Kensington Palace Gardens is…perfect. No traffic or strangers allowed, in a good neighborhood, it’s near everything.” She shrugged. “And there is a garden behind the house. Gabriela can play outdoors and be safe there.”

“Didn’t you have access to the private gardens in Eaton Square?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And still you didn’t think she would be safe there?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” She shrugged again.

He searched her face, trying to glimpse beneath the cool façade she presented. “Don’t you feel lonely there?”

Sophia glanced away from his prying eyes, thinking about his question. She turned her face back to him, and staring into his eyes, answered in a soft voice, “Alistair, she is the most important thing in my life. I can’t afford to put her safety at risk. I would do anything for her. Anything. If, quote, isolating myself and living alone, unquote, in an enormous house is the price to pay for keeping Gabriela happy and safe, I dare say it is more than a bargain. It’s a free ticket to heaven.”

“Not everyone would make that sacrifice,” he replied.

“Sacrifice? Living in Kensington Palace Gardens is no sacrifice. On the contrary.”

“You are a young woman, Sophia. Living alone is a sacrifice.” Unashamedly, he expressed a naked desire that threatened to consume Sophia. “You need a man to bring you pleasure.”

Sophia cleared her throat before changing subjects. “So, do you always go to the movies?”

If the woman with him were not Sophia, he would have skipped dinner, dragged her directly to his apartment, and had s*x for hours until he was done with her. Instead, he continued with the conversation, talking about his interests and asking about hers.

As Sophia evaded his s****l teases with charm, Alistair, without realizing it, started to relax and focus on the conversation as she told him about the last book she’d read. Soon, he had shifted on the sofa to imitate Leonard during a trial and told Sophia funny stories from his younger days.

He glided behind the steering wheel with an elegance that amazed Sophia. “Shall I show you my apartment?”

Sophia schooled her expression before facing him. “Don’t we have to wake up early tomorrow to go to the zoo?”

“Early? Nae. No’ really.”

“Gabriela wakes up early. And I like to enjoy the mornings with her.”

Okay. Not tonight. Understood, Sophia. He smiled at her. “So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten. Prepare to spend the day with me. I’ll make reservations for us at a restaurant that’s near the zoo. It’s simple, but the food is excellent.”

After dropping her off, Alistair drove home immersed in thought.

He opened the door to his apartment and looked around. Empty and cold.

He poured himself a glass of wine and swirled the red liquid, the dark shade reminding him of Sophia’s lips.

I need to f**k. That’s all. He palmed his erection and sighed. He hated to jack himself off. He picked up his phone and scrolled down to Madame Blanchet’s number, but turned it off, briskly shaking his head. He wasn’t in the mood for an escort tonight.

He wanted her.

He needed her.

Only she would do.

I need no one. He rose from the armchair in an irritated mood. He didn’t want any relationships, but if this was what it would take to have her, so be it. Let her have her way for now.

Leibowitz Oil Building

Monday, February 22, 2010

9:18 a.m.

“Oh, he has a wicked sense of humor and made me laugh all night.”

“I see…” Edward sighed. “But still, Sophia, bear in mind that he’s not Gabriel. I’ll ask Mendes to do a—”

“Why?” Her forehead creased. “You didn’t suggest anything like that for Ethan.”

“You didn’t have this look of wonder on your face either,” he replied with a smirk. “Since you first met him, whenever you hear his name you look like a teenager. Worse. You act like a teenager.”

“Well, I’m not a teenager anymore, Edward,” she snapped at him. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“Love, I’m sorry to scare you,” he replied sternly. “However, this is not nonsense. He has captured your heart and if you don’t take care, he is going to crush it with his bare hands.”

“Good heavens, Edward.”

He took out his cell phone from his inside suit pocket. “Let me call—”

“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t do it.”

“Why not?” he asked, baffled. She’d never had such scruples before. “It’s for your own protection.”

“And if he discovers?”

Edward shook his head. “Sophia, you know Mendes is a highly praised professional. His reports are completely confidential and he is very discreet.”

“I don’t see any reason—” She stopped at his dark look.

Edward rose from the armchair and circled her desk, reining back his temper with every step, his blue-eyed gaze holding hers. “Stubborn woman,” he muttered, and leaned over her iMac and typed Alistair’s full name into Google. Thousands of pages were listed. “Has he told you he is a Marquis? Heir to a dukedom?”

“No. But it doesn’t mean—”

“You aren’t dealing with Brazilians, Sophia. Here, in the UK, some families still value those things.” Edward scowled at her.

“I don’t think it is the case. If it were, he would have told me from the beginning.”

“I checked his name and the coat of arms on the personal card he sent you. He’s the Marquis of Ells and his father is the Duke of Craigdale. And they have some other titles up their sleeves. Peerage of England, Scotland, and even the United Kingdom. A very traditional, powerful, and rich family. I would say they’re just below the Royal Dukes. His mother was the daughter of an English duke, too. His sister is married to a very important duke. Still doesn’t mean anything?”

“Perhaps it’s just a coincidence. After all, it is his social circle. If it were so important to him, he would have made it clear from the beginning, Edward.”

“Maybe,” Edward said, then clicked on ‘images’. The screen filled with photos, almost all of them of Alistair accompanied by beautiful women, in public appearances or taken by paparazzi. “Take a look. He doesn’t have relationships. He only has one-night stands.”

He scrolled until he found what he was looking for and clicked on it. An image of Sophia and Alistair leaving Gordon Ramsay at Claridge’s filled the screen.

She gasped.

He slowly turned his head to look at her. He closed the photo and opened another. This time, they were photographed in his car, at a red light on Kensington High Street, near her house.

Sophia felt a chill in her spine as she saw a photo of them taken during the weekend.

And what shocked her the most was an image of a smiling Alistair carrying Gabriela in his arms and holding Sophia’s hand, on a gossip blog with the headline, ‘Mystery Woman Captures Elusive Alistair Connor MacCraig’s Heart’.

The story described—with saucy details—the great number of women passing through Alistair’s life and how easily he disposed of them.

Sophia scrolled down, her heart beating fast in her chest. The article was full of images. All of Alistair’s dates were blonde with blue eyes.

“See what I mean, Mystery Woman?” he sneered. “Want to see something even more interesting?” With a few more clicks, a younger Alistair appeared on the screen playing with a blonde, blue-eyed little girl in a park.

Edward zoomed in on the girl’s face and Sophia inhaled sharply. “Yeah! Digest that!”

“They could be sisters,” she said in a small voice.

“I have been haunted by this photo ever since I first saw it,” he said, then returned to the armchair, and flung himself in it. “Only a background check, Sophia, for Gabriela’s protection. And yours.”

“Edward, I don’t feel at all comfortable about this checking thing. He is not my competitor. This is a personal relationship.”

“Sophia.” He shook his head and sighed. “Sometimes your innocence baffles me. How can a”—he made quotation marks in the air with his fingers—“shrewd businesswoman be so naïve? Do you think if he were in your place, he wouldn’t do it? Anyone would. Everyone does.”

Sophia bit her lip and looked at the photo again, and decided. “No, Edward. This isn’t business. I have morals and principles. Life isn’t a war.” Enough is enough. I can’t risk crossing these lines anymore.

“Well, then. Think about it. But think hard. I don’t want to see you crying later because of principles and morals.” His blue eyes flashed with an undefined emotion. He picked up an envelope from her desk and opened it, ending the argument.