Unbroken Love

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mayfair, The Dorchester Hotel

The Harlequin Suite

8:41 p.m.

The Harlequin Suite was fashionable, emulating The Dorchester’s original style, reminiscent of the Hollywood glamour of the thirties, and although it had been refurbished in a more modern and fresh way in two-thousand-seven, it was not exactly Ethan’s taste.

Ethan exited the master bedroom done in emerald and red hues, and the sycamore lined dressing room, which had ample space, but still left him feeling confined. He liked his rooms at his penthouse. Clean, contemporary, understated luxury, which let his art collection come to the fore.

From the living room, he observed Barbara outside on the large terrace, enjoying the unrivaled view of Hyde Park, in a sensuous pose, hip flung to one side and her buttocks thrown in the air. The effect was stunning, all the more so because she was dressed in a red long sleeve silk blouse with black leather snug mini skirt and black Louboutin ice-pick high-heels.

She’s becoming bolder every day. More Barbara and less Sophia. “Good evening, darling.”

She pivoted when he spoke and her gaze slid over him. He wore gray tailored trousers and a white turtleneck sweater. The effect was one of careless sophistication. It gave him a softness, and her n*****s hardened more than they already were from the low temperature.

She knew it was only an illusion. Ethan was a hard man. In many ways. But she couldn’t help herself, his azure, electric eyes were pure allurement. Unbidden, her feet brought her inside the living room set in ivory to yellow-gold tones, her footfalls hushed by the bespoke wool and silk Nepalese rug and her lips opened in a genuine joyful smile. “Hello, Ethan.”

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, after giving her a kiss on her lips, his hands journeying from her shoulders to hold her hands in his. Jesus, woman. All this just to show off? It’s freezing!

She shook her head, with a wider smile at his concerned gesture. “No. I just stepped outside for a minute while I waited for you. So, tell me, how was your meeting today?”

Are you asking about my meeting with Sophia?! It astonished him that Barbara could be interested in her rival. He squinted at her briefly before asking, “What meeting?”

“The one at Leibowitz Oil,” she asserted without blinking. Barbara wanted to know. She pulled him to the ivory plush sofa. “Wine?”

He looked at his watch. “Aren’t we having dinner?”

“Not yet. I hope you don’t mind. I ordered red wine and some cheese for us. I want to know all about your meeting.”

Call Scott, then. He nodded and waited for her to call one of the butlers. Instead, she started serving him herself, bent down, thrusting her rounded buttocks in the air, her leg muscles flexed beneath the smooth leather of her skirt. Ethan smiled inside and sat more comfortably, enjoying the show.

She brought back a tray with assorted cheese and served him Reblochon on a delicate toast. “Open your mouth.”

He inhaled her scent and realized that she was not using Sublime Vanille. “What is your perfume?”

“Hermés Vingt-quatre Faubourg. It goes very well with my skin. I love it.”

Smells good, baby. He felt a wicked flare in his gut again as she provoked him, leaning over him once more to serve him more cheese.

“What are we toasting to?” he asked and handed her one of the wine glasses. To a night of mindless s*x.

“To your success,” Barbara whispered. She licked her lips and let out a victorious sigh, seeing his eyes sparkle before she moved away from his reach to click her glass with his.

But is s*x all I want from her? Guilt had never been a problem for Ethan, but then he’d never wanted more than s*x with his paid women before. With Barbara, he was becoming too interested for his own ease. He took in every scrumptious inch of her. His eyes followed her around the living room, hating that he had any sort of conscience where she was concerned. Is this what she deserves by treating me so well?

“So, tell me. Sophia presented the project? Was it the way you wanted?” she asked, curious, her hand on his thigh.

He ogled her trying to decipher what were her true intentions. There was nothing on her face but genuine interest. He shrugged and told her how the meeting and the lunch had gone and how happy he was with the project.

Two dedicated butlers served a delicious dinner carefully ordered by Barbara while they made small talk.

The wine was delicious and the food tasty and Ethan was too conscious of the slow seduction web Barbara was weaving around him.

He was well aware of the differences between him and other men, even more so, if compared to the male examples in his family: his debauched, sick father who shared himself and his own wife with God only knew how many; and his grandfather, who had been loyal to his wife during her life, only to scatter his physical affection on the wind after her death. He wondered if in a strange way he was becoming much the same.

Although Ethan’s s****l experience with Eve had been very enjoyable, the betrayal that had come after still tasted acrid in his mouth. It took him a long time before he’d decided to indulge again. He had his first girlfriend only in his last year in Oxford. And it had been a disaster. Later, even though women were all too happy to accept his favors, it was always cold and impersonal for him, as emotionally unfulfilling as it was physically satisfying.

Alone for many years. Until Sophia. And, now? Is this going to lead me anywhere?

London, In a dimly light room

11:54 p.m.

Ghost had always liked a good game of chess. No dice. No luck. It was all about intelligence and strategy. He had both in abundance. All the pawns, rooks, bishops, knights, and the queen—the most powerful piece of the game—were working to protect him, the black king.

Just like the pieces in the game, he didn’t mind if all of his team were destroyed along the way, as long as he, Ghost, stayed safe. In fact, now all he cared about was the destruction of Sophia, whom he had nicknamed the white queen. After all, he had to fulfill a contract and had a reputation to maintain.

He was absolutely sure the game was won.

He smiled.

After he had succeeded, more contracts would come. His fees would increase. After Sophia had been cleared from every one’s path, he would receive the last payment.

He checked his cell phone and saw no messages had come.

He sent one:

Unknown. 11:59 p.m. - Don’t bargain. I want his place. Or you are out.

Atwood House

9:47 p.m.

Throughout dinner, Alistair had remained eerily controlled, weighing his words, as Sophia had been his opposite, warm and playful.

She felt her husband was still a huge mystery in need of unwrapping. It confused her because she thought she had understood him: his problems, his issues, his needs, his goals.

They moved to the upstairs TV room.

He peered at her for a long while as she sorted through delicacies and chocolates she kept in the small fridge for their night cap. His tone was not combative when he said, “Sophia, sit. We have to talk.”

She eased onto the plush sofa next to him, put a chocolate in his mouth and ate another, before linking their fingers and setting them on his thigh. “I’m all ears.”

He wondered when he had lost his distrust and hard edge; and when he would overcome the incapacitating fear of betrayal. Or the fear that his reactions would make her leave him. He was in love with her and worried about her feelings and her reactions. It had scared the hell out of him when she said that their marriage would not last, and if talk was all it took to keep it alive, he would talk.

He grasped her by the waist and sat her on his lap. Then he rested his forehead against hers as he blew out a ragged sigh. Contact with her was as necessary as breathing.

Something is wrong, very wrong. “What is going on? Whatever it is, you can trust me,” she coaxed gently.

Fishing his iPhone from his cardigan pocket, he cleared his throat. Measure your words. Contain your anger. In dubio pro reo. “I received four messages today. And they were about you.” This is not about her. This is not about your present, but about your past, about your and her future.

And? Her gaze never wavered from his. “You’re very cryptic today. What is this all about?”

Alistair put the iPhone in her hands. “You, us, and Ethan Ashford.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t see why Ethan’s name should be linked with yours or mine.”

He motioned to the screen.

Her mouth fell open when she saw the first message. She rolled through the messages from the unidentified number. Have you passed judgment yet? She looked at her husband. “Well, what do you think I was doing? Cheating on you?”

I hope not. Alistair ran his fingers through his long ink-black hair and hoarsely bit out, “Nae.”

“Good. Because I was on my way to have lunch with Ashley, Scott, and, yes, Ethan. We had a long meeting to present the project to his team, and went over all the details.”

As he watched her lips, he relaxed, but only slightly. Absent-mindedly, his hand dipped under her sweater and stroked the velvety skin of her back.

He considered how rare a find she was. In addition to her loyalty, she was intelligent and had a sensuous body, which aroused him as none ever had. He had gone after her just in lust, looking for nothing more than s*x and found his salvation instead. Even his s****l desires, which had been violent and ugly, practiced only to take out revenge for his guilt and pain, she had turned into something beautiful.

“I have done nothing wrong,” she stated.

“Nae, you haven’t,” he said simply, still drunk from her softness and her sweet scent. “I never said that you had.”

A pregnant silence weighed heavily on them. Sophia didn’t talk. She could almost see the whirling inside Alistair’s head.

“But I must have.”

A shiver went through Sophia’s spine and she clamped it down inside. You have? “You must have what?”

“I must have done something wrong,” he fretted, running his fingers over his jaw. His train of thought had been leading him to a path he didn’t like at all. “I am probably the cause for this. It could be any of the women I had. Or…”

Don’t you pity yourself, dammit. “Or?”

“Or Emma again. This may be another one of Emma’s schemes.”

Oh, God. Not again. A veil of anger descended over Sophia’s face and her mouth opened to unleash it on him.

I don’t want to hear you faulting me. “Listen!” I can do it myself.

The command made her pause.

“It’s my fault, Sophia! Can’t you see? I—”

“Stop, please just stop.” Oh, Alistair Connor, you’re not listening. She shook her head and cupped his drawn face in her soft hands. “How is it that everything Emma does is always your fault? Do you think other people don’t have a say in their actions? Whenever anything bad happens, it’s automatically because you did something wrong? You’ve risen again. A Phoenix, more powerful.”

No condemnation. No judgment. Is there any woman like her? He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “You have a way with words, don’t you, Counselor? You wind them around my heart and soul.”

“I don’t want to see you referring to yourself in such a way. I don’t like it. Everyone regrets things in their past,” she said. “Even me. Especially me.”

And he tensed. Alistair could see in her eyes the eager desperation to argue in his favor.

But she realized he was stubborn enough to spar with her all night. “I love you, and I’m sure whomever wants us separated will lose interest as soon as they see that we will not fall for their lies.” She sighed softly and her breath made his lips tingle in awareness.

Alistair dipped his fingers in her hair and combed it back, pushing a lock behind her ear. He didn’t want her to be worried about anything. He would take care of it. His eyes bore down on hers. With a concerned look on his face, he told her, “I want you to check if you know this number. On your computer and with Sarah. Maybe even with Davidoff.”

“I will. Tomorrow.”

“I want you to know that I believe in you.” He nuzzled the side of her neck and bit her softly, sending shivers of heated pleasure all over her body.

And here we go again. She fisted his hair and brought his head up, kissing his lips with a hunger that equaled his. Not that I am complaining.

“You, Sophia, make me crave things I never thought I’d crave again. I want to be with you all the time. I want everything you have to give.”

“I want to be with you, too. I want to smother your bad memories with good ones. I want to be all you know, all you see.” She stood up, smiled deviously, and stretched. “I think it’s time to retire.”

She looked gorgeous, and a thousand other things he couldn’t describe because he was too horny to think clearly. “Minx,” he said, already interested in other things than talk.