Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 1
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Untamed Passion
Chapter 1
Also by Cristiane Serruya
About Cristiane Serruya
This book is a work of fiction and the characters, and dialogues, places and incidents involving them are drawn from the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Wherever the author has used real locations, all the details and descriptions have been kept as real and accurate as possible.
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without the express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book contains an excerpt of Untamed Passion, Shades of Trust #3, by Cristiane Serruya. © 2018 Cristiane Serruya.
ISBN-13: 978-1980417194
Text Copyright © 2018 Cristiane Serruya
Cover by Book Cover Luv © 2018 Cristiane Serruya
All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without the express written permission of the author.
Acknowledgments
First of all, I’d like to thank Margarete Bianchi. Thank you, thank you. A hundred times thank you. For believing when no one else did, for encouraging when I faltered, for your trust in my capacity.
For my right—and left—hands too:
- My designer, Renata Fontanive, for being, from the start, my most constant and reliable partner, helping me not only with the original awesome covers, imaginary, personal cards, bookmarks, and online marketing. You’re the best.
- My funny, patient, loving editor, Edward M Wolfe, who was always available; who chatted and laughed with me; who supported and virtually hugged me through my crying moments; who explained all my doubts and answered asap all my emails, no matter if he had already eaten or not; during day, night and weekends; and for his icy-cold editing, not applauding me but for once (you, ogre!) as he was searching for the flaws, mistakes, wrong tones and pointing them out to me, so, in his own words: ‘To remove the fly from the ointment’. Thank you, Edward, I’m sure you made this new edition way better and consistent as it could never be without your professional—and friendly—editing. You have a special place in my heart;
NOW! For the hearts of my heart, in chronological order of arrival in my life, my biggest thanks:
My brother, Sergio Allevato, my best friend, who drew the most amazing eyes for the original first cover, and commented on all the others;
My broad, six-foot-six, stubborn, loving husband, Raphael, who hated this series with all his might. In spite of his many official—and unofficial—complaints against it, he supported and helped me through all those long two-and-a-half years.
My brilliant, older daughter Raphaela, who cried and hated me when I killed Ethan’s dog, but still helped me sort out some tricky scenes. When you grow up a bit, I promise I’ll let you read it all—yeah, I’ve censored it for you, baby;
My blue-eyed, spirited, youngest daughter Giovanna, who since she was a toddler called my books and my Kindle ‘The enemy’, and was so much jealous of this series, but never failed to like my FB posts;
And last but not least, a prayer to my real companion on those long, long hours, Duda, my husband’s British Bulldog, who slept and snored through all those lines. He passed away just a few days after I finished the last book of the series. I miss you, Duda, and I hope you are in Heaven.
To my dear youngest daughter, Giovanna,
who brightens my days with her happiness, her laughter and her unending capacity of making light and fun of everything.
Thanks, baby. For being you!
Chapter 1
London, The City, Victoria Embankment
The City of London Bank Headquarters
Monday, March 15, 2010
9:08 a.m.
Alistair Connor!” Tavish snapped his fingers in front of his brother’s face. “Wake up, dammit.”
Alistair looked at his younger brother and blinked away the thoughts of Sophia’s naked body. “I’m awake, can’t you see?”
“Then,” he smirked, “should we call them in or not?”
Alistair rubbed a hand on his nape and looked sheepishly at Tavish. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry.”
“You’ve got it bad, man.” A broad smile split Tavish’s rugged face and he even chuckled. “I never thought I’d see the mighty Alistair Connor daydreaming.”
“I’m not the mighty Alistair Connor. And I wasn’t daydream—” he interrupted himself and smiled. “Okay, I was. She’s everything a man could wish for, Tavish Uilleam.” And his grin turned almost idiotic with happiness.
“Have you told her about Heather?”
Alistair’s smile waned. “Fuck. You had to spoil it, Tavish Uilleam.”
“You’ve told her about your preferences?”
“She’s too innocent and—” Alistair sighed. “The truth is I’m afraid of scaring her away.”
“She has the right to know, Alistair Connor. Or is she worth a change?”
“She’s worth everything. Anything.” He looked toward the huge windows of his office, his gaze distant. But I hurt her. I can never apologize enough.
“But?” Tavish tilted his head, studying Alistair’s face. “Alistair Connor, I really think you should see a therapist. If she’s half what Alice told me…” He looked his brother in the eye. “She won’t abide your sexual orientation.”
“Have you been talking about Sophia behind my back?” Alistair’s face darkened. “What’s your interest in her?”
He sustained the dark stare. “None. My interest rests on you. And our family. I won’t see another Heather—”
Alistair banged his fist on the table startling
his brother. “Sophia is nothing like Heather.”
“Okay, okay,” Tavish put his hands up. “I know that now.” He stood up and put both hands on the desk, leaning toward his brother. “But do you? Are you ready to be in a relationship with her? A real, normal relationship? Is she strong enough to avoid turning into another Heather? Or are you going to degrade her like Heather did with you?”
London, The City, Fleet Street
Leibowitz Oil Building
9:16 a.m.
Sophia tried in vain to stifle a yawn and giggled, as Edward watched her with keen eyes from the armchair opposite her desk.
His blue eyes twinkled and he grinned wickedly at her. “Not enough sleep?”
“Nope.” Her voice was still a bit hoarse and she fingered the Hermès printed silk scarf she had put around her neck.
“I take it the CEO of The City of London Bank knows his job well?”
Sophia just smiled and blinked trying to fight the sleepiness that was taking hold of her.
“I told you, Sophia, third one’s the charm.”
She yawned again and Edward’s grin broadened. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
“I need caffeine.” She rose from her chair and stretched, looking at him with a naughty expression on her face. “Do you want one?”
“Yeah, please.”
She made two coffees with her Nespresso machine and handed one to Edward.
“Well. I can say I didn’t sleep much.” She picked up her coffee and sat back on her chair. The memory of them making love over the weekend surfaced. “Only a few hours last night. This morning I skipped the gym, had to drag myself to the shower, and three coffees haven’t helped. I’m still sleepy.”
“Come on, Sophia. The full report.”
“Edward!”
“You spent the whole weekend with him?”
She turned on her iMac and glanced away from him, blushing, “I did.”
“That good, huh?”
You can’t imagine. “Nope. Better.” She winked and focused on the contract on her computer screen. “So—”
“How do you rate him?”
Off the charts. She refused to glance at him, biting her lip to stop her joyful smile from appearing.
He shoved a hand in his blond hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and settled down more comfortably in the armchair. “I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me all about it.”
That made her turn her head and stare at him amused. Edward’s smile was impossibly wide and mischievous. He looked like a boy waiting for his favorite story.
“Fine. I would give him…a ten.” She grinned. “Maybe eleven. But I’d never tell him. He’s already too conceited. He’d probably laugh, just like he laughed at me the whole weekend.” Or probably not. He would be angry if he knew I was gossiping with Edward about his sexual prowess—or not. Him and his mercurial moods.
“Aaand?”
Her eyes twinkled and she whispered, “He is a…devil in bed.”
“One of my kind.” Edward wiggled his eyebrows.
“Edward! I wouldn’t have thought you were so vain.” She creased her brow in thought. “No. I’m wrong. He’s not a devil. He’s an angel.” An angel? Alistair Connor? No. Never.
“He can’t be too angelic if he put that naughty look on your face.”
“Not angelic, no. A fallen angel,” she finished, smiling. “Anyhow, an angel. He took me to heaven, maybe surreptitiously, quite a few times during the weekend,” she giggled and Edward laughed with her.
The intercom buzzed and Sophia pressed the button with a big smile on her face. “Yes?”
“Mrs. L, Dr. Walter is on your private line. May I transfer him?”
“Dr. Walter? Dr. John Walter?”
“Yes, Mrs. L,” Sarah confirmed.
“Transfer him, please, Sarah.” Sophia picked up the handset and rose from her chair, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looking absentmindedly at the beautiful view of the River Thames.
“Hello? Sophia?” John Walter’s quiet voice reached her.
“Hi, John. How are you? How are Claire and the children?”
“Everyone’s fine, my dear. You and Gabriela?”
“We’re fine. Thanks. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Sophia, I…my secretary received a call earlier from Alistair MacCraig asking for an appointment today at six. For both of you. Together.”
Oh, damn. “Ah…yes.” Please, say you can’t fit us in. Please. Please!
“I have a C-section scheduled at five, so I can’t fit you in. I’m sorry.”
She sighed, relieved. “If it won’t work today, don’t worry about it. It’s not an emergency.”
“I wanted to check with you first before confirming the appointment. I found it…unusual, since you always come alone. Quite frankly it’s the first time I’ve had this kind of request from a boyfriend.” Sophia heard him speaking with someone and the clicking sound of a keyboard. “Hmm, let’s see… This week is quite full. I can fit you in either today or tomorrow, but only at twelve-thirty. I don’t have any other times for the rest of the week. Or it could be next week.”
“Let me check with Alistair and I’ll call your secretary back, John. But don’t worry. It’s nothing important. Thanks for your call. Send Claire and the kids a kiss. Take care.” She hung up and remained there looking at the phone in her hand. “Damn!” She stomped her right foot on the carpet floor.
“Something wrong?” Edward was observing her with a strange look on his face. Sophia never stomped her feet unless she was really irritated.
“Everything,” she muttered under her breath, “everything.” Still by the window, she called her secretary. “Sarah, could you please get Mr. Alistair MacCraig on the line?” She switched off and turned to Edward. “Why am I always involved with bossy men?”
“Because you are bossy too? Gabriel was too spellbound by your charms to put you on a leash. You were the only one who ordered him around.” He smiled at her. “You found someone who seems to know how to deal with you. If he weren’t firm and ignored your whims, you’d be bossing him around.”
Me? Bossing Alistair Connor MacCraig around? You have no idea, Mr. CEO. “Et tu, Brutus?” she snorted, trying to maintain an impassive face but failing miserably. She couldn’t get angry when Edward was near.
“Even I, Imperatrix,” he teased.
Her mouth split in a big grin. “Imperatrix?”
“Or should I say dominatrix?” He wiggled his brows at her. “But then, a dominatrix wouldn’t fit with MacCraig.”
Sophia scrunched her face at him. “Dominatrix? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Mmm, nothing, Sophia. Nothing.” She was so sophisticated and mature for her age that sometimes Edward forgot how innocent she was in sexual matters.
“Come on, Edward.” She tilted her head to the side. “Explain yourself—” The intercom buzzed. “Transfer him, Sarah, please,” she said, leaving no time for her secretary to say anything. She marched to the bathroom raising her index finger and mouthing to Edward, “One minute.”
She closed the door and vented her anger on the phone, in a low voice, “Are you crazy, Alistair Connor? I told you I was clean and on birth control. What’s the hurry? Couldn’t you have called me first? John wants to see us at midday today. What is he going to think about you? About me? Dammit, Alistair Connor. Dammit!!”
“I don’t know who John is, or what he’s going to think about you or Alistair Connor. And I don’t care,” a deep masculine and amused voice answered her, chuckling. “How are you, Sophia?”
Not Alistair. I just told a man I’m clean and on birth control. Oh, ground, please, swallow me.
“It is Sophia, isn’t it?” Tavish insisted, as delighted as he’d been in ages by her outburst and the amusing way she had scolded his brother.
“Who—?” she stammered, incapable of forming a coherent thought.
“You’ve got the wrong MacCraig,”
he paused, waiting for her to say something.
Damn! Lieutenant-Colonel-Doctor-Lord-Arrogance. “Lord Tavish Uilleam?”
“Aye. How are you, Sophia?”
What now, Sophia? Breathe, breathe.
“Still there, Sophia?”
“I…yes, I’m still here.”
“How are you?” Tavish’s smile was impossibly broad. He had been laughing and smiling much more since he discovered Sophia was not another Heather and was keeping Alistair at arm’s-length, on the verge of madness.
“I’m fine, thank you. And you, my lord?” she whispered, mortified. “Could you put your brother on, please? I’m sorry my secretary made the mistake of asking for you.”
“I’m fine, thanks, Sophia.” She heard when he breathed deeply. “It wasn’t your secretary’s mistake. I intercepted the call. I want to talk to you. Could you meet me for lunch?”
“Alone?” What are you intending?
“Alone,” he confirmed in a now stern tone. “Also, I’d ask you not to tell Alistair Connor about this.”
“My lord—”
“Please, Sophia, call me Tavish Uilleam. I’m sorry, I got the wrong idea, but when my father told me you were Alistair’s girlfriend I—”
“Tavish Uilleam.” She cut him off. Are you trying to warn me against Alistair, too? “I have no reason to go out with you, alone. I don’t have a habit of lying and I’m not going to start just yet. What do you want to talk with me about?”
“Not on the phone. A tea, maybe?”
“Only if your brother joins us.”
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