Shades of Trust

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

When Sophia re-entered the bedroom, there was no sign of the condom he had flung on the floor.

Ethan was sitting on the sofa, holding two flutes of champagne. After they toasted and drank, he took her to bed and pulled her into the circle of his arms.

An emotion Ethan didn’t recognize unfurled in his chest. And then, he knew it would be her for him, forever.

After thirty-five years of waiting, I’ve found my other half. She will be mine. My Sophia. Forever. Come hell or high water. He shook his head, scared for the first time in his life. “You don’t know what you have done to me, Sophia.”

A couple of hours later, a frightening scream shattered the air, waking Ethan.

He switched on the lamp on the bedside table. Sophia, on the other side of the bed, clutched her scarred arm and moaned, as if in pain. Her head thrashed on the pillow and she spoke incoherently in a language he couldn’t identify.

“Nooooo!” she cried hoarsely.

Her cry chilled Ethan as her pained voice laced the room.

Jesus! He shook her by the shoulders. “Sophia! Sophia, wake up! You’re having a nightmare.”

She opened troubled eyes and looked around, confused. Her gaze fixed on his face and her breath whooshed from her. She put her hands on her face, heaving.

After a minute, she let her hands fall.

“I’m sorry.” Sophia pushed up on the bed and rested on the headboard, eyes closed. “That’s the reason I don’t do sleepovers, Ethan.” Her voice was shaky. “I have nightmares. Terrible nightmares. I’ll be right back.” She left the bed, crossed the room and entered the bathroom. Will they never leave me alone?

She twisted her hair and made a loose bun. Cupping the water, she wet her wrists, face, and back of her neck.

Don’t look in the mirror, don’t look in the mirror. She knew what she would see. Big, spooky, dark-brown eyes and white lips on an ashen face. They were neither her eyes, nor her features. They belonged to a ghost, not to her.

Sophia heard a knock and she turned. Ethan leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her with worried eyes. “Everything okay?”

“No.” She grimaced. “But it will be.”

“Want some port? Or a whisky?” He stepped into the bathroom, thoughtfully. “Here.” He put a white cotton shirt beside her on the sink. “I’ll wait for you in the sitting room.”

“Wait.” She gripped his wrist and stared at him, her eyes troubled. Get a grip, Sophia. You’re going to frighten the man away on the first night. She let go of his hand. “It’s okay. I’ll be…”

He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist, his head dropping to her neck. “I’m here,” he whispered near her ear. “Come on.”

He dressed her with the shirt, which fell to the middle of her thighs.

“I like you in my shirt.” He smiled at her, leading her to the sofa. He retrieved a bottle of port from a small bar under the bookshelf. He looked at her and motioned to the opened champagne bottle, “Or perhaps you want the champagne?”

So attentive, Ethan. She gave him a small smile. “I prefer the port.”

“Tell me about the dream.” He handed her the crystal glass and sat beside her, an arm on her shoulder, pulling her to him.

“It wasn’t a dream.” She shook her head and sipped her wine. “And I don’t talk about it.”

“How were you shot?” He tried again.

“Ethan, please, let it be. It’s a very sore issue.” For the first time, she looked around; taking in the stylish sitting room with its paintings and books gracing the walls.

She put her glass on the side table and rose from the sofa to examine the bookshelves. “We do have similar tastes,” she smiled at him over her shoulder.

He finished his wine and approached her from behind and spoke in her ear, “I knew you were perfect for me from the minute I spotted you.” He bit her earlobe, his hand lifting the hem of the shirt to find her hip, stroking it. “Come to bed. I’ll make you forget your dream.”

Saturday, January 16, 2010

10:00 a.m.

Sophia opened her eyes to find Ethan seated on the edge of the bed looking at her, a mug in his hand, and his hair damp from a shower. He was dressed in faded jeans and a blue turtleneck sweater that did wonders for his eyes.

“I could go for hours just looking at you.”

She stretched, raising her arms above her head and entwining them; the sheets moved, showing a breast. She smiled at him. “Good morning.”

Ethan put his mug on the bedside table. “Do that again and you’re not getting out of this bed, Ms. Santo.”

Sophia grinned wickedly and stretched again, this time writhing her body, sheets bunching at her waist.

“Vixen.” Ethan bent to kiss her but she rolled to the other side of the bed and jumped away to the bathroom.

“Don’t move,” she ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

When she emerged from the bathroom, he was in the same place, an amused twist on his lips.

“Good boy.” She smiled and picked up his mug, smelling it. “Mmm!” She raised her brows to him and drank his coffee.

He smiled at her impudent gesture.

Tugging him from the bed by the sweater, she commanded, “Take it off.”

“You like to give orders, huh?”

“Sometimes.” She smiled and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you know how to obey?”

“Sometimes,” he replied, and took off his sweater.

“Let’s see.” She perched on the end of the bed, tapping her index finger on her lips, admiring his muscles as he moved.

“Now what, Ms. Santo?”

She stared at the bulge in his jeans and smiled. “Jeans. Off.”

He peeled off his jeans, amused, and threw them on the armchair.

“Briefs. Off!” Her eyes gleamed and she bit her lip.

He took off his briefs and stood proudly in front of her. He knew he had a great figure.

With her finger, Sophia motioned for him to make a complete turn.

“Do you approve?” he asked huskily.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Ashford, I do!” Sophia rose from the bed and circled him, her fingers tracing his chest and his shoulder. She ran her hands over his arms and his buttocks without touching his straining erection. “A fine specimen,” she teased. She pinched his chin, lowering his head a bit to better look at his eyes. He hadn’t touched her and she was already turned on. “A very fine specimen.”

He let out a laugh. “I will tell my personal trainer that I made the grade.” He grabbed both of her wrists in his grip behind her back and pulled her to his body.

“I wasn’t finished.” She scowled at him.

“Seems I’m not that good at following orders, Ms. Santo.”

She smiled at the admission and pressed tighter to him, parting her lips. “Ethan. I never thought you would be.” I don’t like meek men.

They met halfway and he ravaged her mouth, leaving her with no ability to think. She barely noticed when he released her wrists and picked her up by the waist, lifting her higher on his body to deepen the kiss. Her legs wrapped around him and she put her hands on his shoulders for support.

“Sophia.” He impaled her on his erection and a low cry escaped her mouth. He backed her up against the wall, moving slowly, rocking in her. He kissed her neck and shoulder. “You feel so good.”

She grabbed his hair and yanked his head in an aggressive kiss, notching their passion higher. He shifted his hold on her thighs and his hand dipped between them, searching for her c**t. He tore his mouth from hers. His blue eyes flamed with desire when he ordered in his low baritone voice, “Come for me.”

She met his gaze for a split second before he took her mouth once more in a hungry kiss.

He withdrew almost completely from her body and slammed back into her hard and deep, fingering her at the same time.

She moaned in his mouth and he felt her body tense up.

He pounded into her again and again.

She came apart in his arms. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have dropped to the ground.

In one more hard thrust, he groaned her name and spilled inside her, his forehead falling to her shoulder.

They stayed pressed onto the wall, heaving. Then, all of a sudden, he stiffened and slowly raised his head from her shoulder, staring intently at her.

“What?” Sophia breathed out, her head on the curve of his neck.

“The condom. I forgot.” He scanned her eyes. “You’re on the pill, I take…”

“No,” she murmured the word, still dazed.

Oh, Jesus! Pregnancy, children. His eyes widened. Alarmed, he shouted, “JESUS! Plan B. Now.”

“Plan B?” She frowned, puzzled. What the hell is his plan b?

“Morning-after pill.” He withdrew from her and slid her down his body until her feet touched the floor. “The sooner you take it, the better.”

“Relax,” she assured him, smiling. “No chances of pregnancy. I’m not on the pill but I have an IUD.”

“An IUD?” He curled his fingers under her chin, looking at her face if searching for the truth.

“Laser hair removal and IUDs with hormones are a woman’s best friends.” She smiled at him, admiring his wondrous azure eyes.

He chuckled. “And here I thought they were diamonds.”

“Well, those too.” Her laugh tinkled in the room. “I’m taking a shower. Then I have to go home.”

“Sophia.” He raked his hand through his hair. “What about… When was the last time you were tested?”

“Tested?” She frowned, stopping in the threshold of the bathroom and looking over her shoulder.

“STD, HIV, you know.”

“I’m clean, don’t you worry.” Her frown increased, a line appearing between her elegant, black brows. “And you?”

“Fair question.” He stepped forward and embraced her. “Last October.” He nuzzled her neck. “I wish you could stay with me today.” He tenderly kissed her lips. “You’re a hell of a woman,” he murmured against her lips before he released her. “Go have your shower. You can use the white bathrobe. I’ve ordered some perfume and toiletries from Creed for you.”

She stood there frozen.

“What?”

“How do you know I use Creed?” she whispered.

“I just know,” he answered with a mysterious smile on his lips.

11:25 a.m.

“Your clothes have arrived,” he informed from outside of the bathroom. “Come to the sitting room. I ordered breakfast. I’m dying to see if you like my choices.”

Hastily, Sophia dried herself and wrapped an enormous, fluffy towel turban style over her long hair. She donned the white bathrobe hanging behind the door.

He sat on the sofa, in front of the center table laden with food.

“Oh, my God!” She halted at the entrance of the sitting room. She looked around, baffled. This man is crazy.

He shrugged, nonchalantly. “I knew you liked fruit, bread, and cheese, so I ordered a selection from Marylebone Market. It’s just arrived.”

“Thank you, but it wasn’t the food that surprised me.” She shook her head and stared bewildered at the bags from Gucci, Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Celine, Nina Ricci and many others covering the floor. “You were quite extravagant with your shopping order. I just needed a pair of jeans and a sweater.”

“Sophia, it is a pleasure to lavish you with gifts. I can and I will. Don’t expect less.” He rose from the sofa and putting his hands on her waist, regarded her eyes intently.

“Ethan?” she asked, unsure of what to make of the undiluted lust that shone inside his azure eyes.

He picked up a half-dozen bags in each hand and brought them over to the sofa. “Sit and eat. I’ll unpack them for you.”

What the hell am I doing? Sophia stood still in the same place, staring at him.

He crooked his finger and ordered again, “Sit here by my side. Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, thanks.” She chose a rye, raisin, and caraway bread slice and accepted the steaming mug. What am I supposed to do with all these things? What is the meaning behind it?

He opened bag after bag and unwrapped tissue after tissue. All kind of clothes began to pile up over the sofa and the armchairs, from jackets to trousers, from skirts to dresses. There were even complements such as belts, stockings and tights from Fogal Pantyhose, shawls, gloves, and boots.

“You ordered all this!”

“Yes, of course. You have an exquisite taste for clothes, darling. But I love to build a feminine wardrobe as much as I love to build mine.”

He is crazy. Sophia’s eyes widened even more when Ethan removed from the Valentino box a spectacular tawny long-sleeve lace dress, and wondrous cream lace high-heels made by Philip Treacy, made specially by the Italian designer. Not even Sarah could get those for me. “How did you manage to get those, and in my size? I have been looking for them ever since I saw them in Vogue.”

“I knew you would like them.” He chuckled. “They aren’t shoes. They’re jewels. They will look great on you. Give me your foot.”

She rested her ankle in his hand and he put the shoe on her.

“It’s…absolutely spectacular.” She turned it left and right, admiring the shoe as he kept taking things from the bags.

She laughed out loud, uneasy. The amount of push up and wireless bras with matching panties and thongs and garters he bought took her aback. She didn’t know what to say but didn’t want to appear ungrateful. She’d never been in a situation like this.

“The choices are perfect, Ethan. You have built me a complete matching wardrobe. But it’s too much—”

“No buts. Darling, you don’t know what women usually ask of me. The shops started to send me all their catalogs after they noticed I bought women’s clothes. My secretary is constantly receiving gifts because of my sudden shopping sprees.” He regarded her closely. “You’re the first one that I’ve asked to stay with me and the first one who’s complaining that I bought too much.”

Sophia froze and stared at him, open-mouthed. “So…” She let the annoyed hue in her voice linger. “You’re used to buying things for your women…”

“Jealous, baby?” He raised his eyebrow.

Is he this insensitive? “Jealous?” she bit out, and stiffened. She dismissed the costly goods with a flick of her elegant hand and rose from her place on the sofa, tugging her bathrobe tighter around her body. “Jealous of what? I have high self-esteem. I don’t need these things.” That’s not it. You worded it badly. Annoyed with the whole situation, she turned to exit the sitting room.

“Sophia!” Ethan jumped from the sofa, the lingerie tumbling to the floor. He firmly placed his hands on her shoulders. What is the problem with this woman?

“I’m not for sale.” The scorn dripped from her lips.

“You’re not like the others. That’s all I meant to say.”

She didn’t move or say a word. She stood stiffly in the middle of his sitting room, head held high.

“Come on, baby, they’re just things. Please, accept my apologies.” He fitted his body to hers, his arms snuggling her waist and his head dropping to kiss her shoulder. His voice became deeper, more intimate. “Please, Sophia. That wasn’t my intention. These are just goods. It pleases me to buy clothes for you—to imagine you in them. I wasn’t even finished.” What is your price, Sophia?

“I think you are more than done,” she scoffed,

“Sweetness, these are just material things money can buy. You are invaluable to me. Please, forgive me. Maybe I overdid it.”

Sophia sighed and shook her head at him. “All right. Let me get dressed. What do you want me to wear, you crazy man?”

“Hmm. The Gucci look. And these.” He selected a matching lace and silk, plum and black push-up bra and thong from Agent Provocateur. He put everything in a bag and handed it to her.

After several minutes, Sophia materialized from the bathroom in an orange merino wool turtleneck sweater over skinny light jeans and caramel booties. Still a bit uncomfortable, she pivoted for him to see. “Do you like?”

“They fit you perfectly.” He stretched his hand out beckoning her to sit beside him. “I love it.”

Sophia bit her lip and his eyes followed the movement.

“Don’t,” he murmured. I’m already turned on. His thumb caressed and pressed on the center of her mouth. “Want more coffee?”

“Yes, please,” she said.

“Eat. You can’t start your day with only a slice of bread.” He filled her cup and motioned to the table. Ethan silently watched her eat. “You confound me.”

“I do? Why?” she asked.

“I don’t know what to make of you. Sometimes you seem like a teenage girl, and other times, a well-lived woman. You act like a very rich person, then in the next moment, you don’t care for expensive things. You keep things in the dark, but then again, you’re so forthcoming and honest when we talk about your work.” He stared at her. The numerous emotions speeding over her face captivated him. “Who are you? What are you hiding, Sophia? What are you afraid of?”

She gave a nervous laugh and concentrated on drinking her coffee. “It’s your imagination, Ethan. I’m just a private person.”

His hand cupped her face and tilted it up. “I’m falling for you, Sophia,” he murmured, his eyes flashing.

His words startled her. “Don’t you think it’s too soon to say something like that?”

“You don’t believe in love at first sight?”

“Never happened to me.” She lifted a shoulder and finished her coffee. “Can you call me a taxi? It’s not necessary for you to take me home.”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” He motioned to the clothes strewn all over the sitting room. “What are you going to take with you?”

“Ah…why don’t we leave the clothes here, so when I need something I’ll have it? I’m just taking the lingerie to wash.”

“Absolutely not. Imelda, my housekeeper, can wash them for you.” He wrapped the Valentino dress and the Philip Treacy shoes in a tissue and put them in a bag. “Take these. Next time we go out, I want to see you in this dress.”

“Where can I put these things?” she asked, standing up.

“Don’t worry. Imelda will arrange them in my dressing room,” he said and picked up a Birkin Hèrmes bag. “Here. Put your evening bag inside this.”

She shook her head at herself, baffled and overwhelmed by all the gifts.

He handed her sunglasses and gloves to her. Then arranging a fur coat on her shoulders, Ethan kissed her and announced, “Perfect. Let’s go.”