She looked at his hand on her arm and back at his face, with a raised eyebrow. “Take back what you said.”
He gaped at her. “What did I say?”
“He is incorrigible, Sophia.” Tavish laughed. “Get used to his overbearing personality. We are going to watch a movie. Will you join us, Sophia?”
Fuck! Don’t even think of saying yes.
Sophia looked at Alistair. “Why not?”
“That’s enough!” Alistair exited the Game Room through the glass door towing her by the arm with Tavish’s laughter following them out onto the Elm Courtyard. He stopped and whipped round to look at her. “Don’t provoke my ire, Sophia.”
She put a hand over her heart. “God forbid, my lord Marquis of Don’t-anger-me. God forbid.”
He exhaled a forceful breath and pulled her into his embrace, kissing her hard and hungrily, before saying, “I want to show you something. Come.”
Sophia licked her lips and prayed for patience as he muttered something under his breath about independent and stubborn women. She followed him to the other side of the courtyard to stop at very tall double doors flanked by two large windows.
He opened one and allowed Sophia to enter. He banged the door shut behind him and almost tripped over her standing at the entrance of the room.
She could discern tall, wild trees and tropical plants in the moonlight that came in through the huge glass panes that formed the rocky walls and part of the roof.
She looked around bewildered. The room was enormously wide and three stories high; a kind of a greenhouse. “This is magnificent.”
“My great-grandmother built it after a fire that almost collapsed this whole part of the castle. After her, all the duchesses have been adding to it, making it more and more enchanting.” He paced away from her to the far end of the greenhouse, near a small artificial rocky cascade that led into a lake in the center of the room. “It is one of my favorite places in Craigdale.”
He took off his blazer, threw it on a chair and sat in one of the beautiful and antique settees scattered around the room, patting the place beside him. He said gravely, “We need to talk.”
Alistair wasn’t a man that discussed or asked. He simply took. Without explanations. Without apologies. But in deference to Sophia and especially because of his feelings for her, he would try to explain a few things. He examined her, still standing by the door. “What’s the problem?”
“No butterflies, right?”
He smiled and shook his head, “Nae. No butterflies. Come here.”
Sophia crossed the room in awe, her hands touching the big leaves and exotic orchids like the ones found in Rio de Janeiro, the Amazon forest, or in some places in Africa.
“I could take some beautiful photos of Gabriela here,” she said to him as she sat on the divan, shed her high-heels, and tucked her feet under her legs. “Imagine her looking for fairies here.”
He smiled as he rolled the cuffs of his shirt up. “I’ll suggest my father brings her here tomorrow night.”
“So, talk, Lord Caveman.” She turned to him expectantly, toying with the hem of her long gown as she admired his muscled forearms.
“Sophia, I know that you are an independent woman. And that you value this. And I do too, mind you. I know that you are still wary about me—”
“Wary about you?” She shook her head at him. “No, I’m not.”
You are. He let it go. “But maybe we have to establish some rules about control and your behavior, if we want our relationship to continue smoothly.”
Sophia’s eyes widened but she didn’t dare utter a question or opinion, barely humming, “Hmm.”
“I have always been the dominant partner of every…er…relationship I’ve engaged in, be it in the bedroom or out of it.” What good did that do me? Just to remind you, you stupid dominant, Heather cheated on you. He shooed the thought away. “Do you have any idea what that means?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Please, explain to me, the in the bedroom part first,” she said.
“I like to control, to give the orders. So, you on top is not my favorite position.”
I thought men loved this position. “Why not?”
Just talking about it awoke Alistair’s penis from its semi-asleep state and his voice turned husky as he said, “Because I prefer to be the one in command. Unless I’m in a mood to switch.”
Huh? “And what else?”
“I like you beneath me or on all fours. I also like you bound and blindfolded under my mercy. I like you on your knees, sucking me hard. And I’m dying to show you new things. This morning…it was great. But there is a lot more I want to show you. This innocence of yours…” He put his hands under her dress and ran his hands over her smooth legs, completely forgetting what he meant to say as he bent over to kiss her while his fingers played with her frilly lace thong. “You drive me crazy, Sophia.”
He rose and lifted her by the waist, setting her on her feet before him, facing one of the glass walls. He flicked a switch and a soft light from a table lamp flooded the room.
Sophia blinked at her sudden image mirrored in the glass.
Alistair shadowed her from behind as he slowly undid the back of her dress. “Look at you. So discreetly and elegantly dressed, covered from head to toe, and you still set my imagination on fire.” His long fingers pushed the dress from her shoulders, baring her upper torso to the light. His hands cupped her breasts. “No bra. I like that.”
Sophia licked her lips and whispered, “What are you doing?”
He bent his head and traced the shell of one ear with his tongue before taking the earlobe in his mouth, gently biting it. His eyes met hers in the glass. “A fantasy of mine. I’ve always wanted to make love here.”
His deep voice murmuring the words in her ear and his thumb and forefinger rolling her nipples sent a sharp thrill of molten desire racing through her.
She shuddered and gasped, putting an arm over her breasts. “Someone might—”
“No one will see us.” He brought her arms down to her sides and again he met her gaze. “Keep your eyes open and watch my hands. Just feel. I want you to give me everything; every gasp, moan, scream. I want your pleasure. All of it.” His words were low and hypnotic, as were the rhythm of his hands.
Sophia couldn’t drag her eyes from his hands caressing her breasts.
He kissed her neck and whispered, “Concentrate on the sensations.”
She moaned as his fingers swirled, then squeezed her nipples with light pinches, sending shivers through her body. Her legs started to tremble and she leaned back onto his chest, feeling his hard muscles covered by the fine Egyptian cotton against her bare back.
His hands left her breasts for a second to unbutton his shirt as his mouth descended on her neck and shoulders. His shirt fluttered to the floor and instantly his hands were on her again, opening the last buttons and pushing her dress down. As soon as it slithered down her legs, one of his hands splayed across her stomach, holding her flush against his hard arousal sheathed by his trousers.
Sophia ignored the dress as it pooled around her feet in a rosy cloud, too entranced and mesmerized by the sight of his hands roaming freely over her almost naked body in a room anyone could enter at any time.
“Look at you, Sophia. So beautiful.” From behind, his knee pressed her legs apart as his lips grazed the soft skin beneath her ear. “Keep watching.”
Sophia refocused on their mirrored image and watched as his hands slid lower and his thumbs hooked on the sides of her thong and pushed it down her legs, liberating only one foot.
He knelt behind her and his long fingers trailed up, slowly and tantalizingly over her calves.
He stopped to lick the back of her knees and she gasped.
His tongue swirled up and he bit, first one round buttock then another, as his fingers roamed over her inner thighs, to tangle in her small patch of curls, then sliding further, pressing inward.
She widened her legs, allowing him better acce
ss, but he retreated and tugged her curls. He rose to his full height, towering over her from behind. “Next time I want you all bare.”
Her head fell back against his shoulder; her spine arched. She heard a low moan, and knew it was hers. Her body was fully alive, registering every touch, every knowing caress. From under hooded eyelids, Sophia watched the erotic movement of his hands. Then he shifted, his arms coming around her, surrounding her, his left hand cupping her right breast, his right hand splaying over her stomach.
He touched her softness and found her wet and hot. “Always ready, Sophia.” And stroked.
“For you,” she said breathlessly, arching. She felt the muscles of his arm shift as he reached further, felt the pressure of his hand between her thighs, felt the slow inexorable invasion as one long finger entered her. Then another. Slowly at first and then quicker and completely, so that the heel of his hand pressed on her clitoris with every shift.
Sensation upon sensation kindled the fire in Sophia. Of their own volition, her hands found the button of his trousers and unfastened and unzipped them, shoving them down with his underwear and pressing herself harder on his erection. His crisp hairs rasped the soft skin of her butt when his erection pressed itself between her mounds. His hand shifted as his long, broad fingers slid deeper and his thumb pressed, caressed.
Sophia moaned as lightning lanced through her veins. “I want you. Now.”
“Nae.” Even as her body tightened and arched, sensations swirling in a vortex inside her, his caresses didn’t stop, only increased in speed. “Open your eyes and keep watching.”
She opened her yellow-diamond eyes to see he was watching her intently as his fingers rolled a nipple and his other hand pushed deeper in between her thighs, a third finger joining in and his erection pressed on her cheeks, probing but not entering.
She moaned and her body tightened as his thumb circled and pressed down on her with each thrust of his hand.
Pleasure built, soared higher and crystallized. Only to fracture in a million different pieces. If Alistair hadn’t held her firmly with an arm on her waist, Sophia would have crumpled to the floor as her orgasm shot through her body and she called his name out loud.
He immediately put her on the divan, lay on top of her and plunged inside her still quivering body with a forceful thrust.
Sophia’s delighted scream tore through the quiet of the greenhouse as another climax built inside her. She looked up to meet his forest-green eyes and the fierce expression of passion in them and the way he mastered her body skillfully spiraled her lust to unimaginable heights, exploding as a super nova at the same time he shouted her name and spilled himself in her. The sudden burst of light behind her eyes turned to darkness, a calm and soothing languishment came over her.
Sophia felt him holding her as she slowly returned to reality. Head on his shoulder, she drew random designs in his bare chest with a long red nail. Even after he’d sated her, she inexplicably wanted more. Part of her mused she couldn’t have enough because she had enjoyed it as she never had before. Gabriel had been a thorough and considerate lover, but Alistair coaxed emotions from her she had never thought she could feel.
She kissed his chest and purred.
“I love you,” he whispered in her hair. He didn’t want to move from the divan, but it was getting late and she needed to rest. “Come on, sweetheart. Let me help you back to our room.”
Moonlight bathed the courtyard and the greenhouse in soft white light, illuminating the tall ancient oaks, the delicate plants, and the divan with its rumpled cushions as they exited the exotic greenhouse. They walked back to the main part of the house, Sophia leaning completely on Alistair’s strong body as his arm gathered her by the waist.
They were so involved in each other that they didn’t notice when a footstep broke the quietness of the night. A long and menacing shadow entered the moonlit Elm Courtyard. Then the figure slipped away, back into the castle through a glass door and the shadow was no more.
Chapter 11
Monday, March 29, 2010
5:01 a.m.
Gabriel! No! GABRIEL!
Her heart beating wildly, Sophia woke up in a panic. She couldn’t remember the dream exactly, but for the first time its underlying terror was accompanied by flashes of Gabriel’s face, shouts and screams. Different voices. Lots of men. And pain all over her body. She wanted to cry and scream. She looked around the darkened room and her eyes stopped on Alistair’s sleeping figure.
Breathe, Sophia. Breathe. She sat up in bed and clutched her knees, trying to calm her breathing and heart rate.
She didn’t want to go back to sleep again. She stumbled out of bed, donning her wrap, sat in one of the armchairs and wrapped a cashmere blanket around her. She was too frightened by the echoes of the horror that was coming back, resonating loudly inside her mind.
Sophia tried to give some order to the shadows and flashes, without success. It only worsened the anxiety and distress she was feeling. She suppressed the sounds that were threatening to burst from her throat, shivered, and gathered the blanket more firmly around her body.
Alistair opened his eyes, stretching his arms over his head. His mind was clear, his body relaxed from sex and sleep, and he felt a deep peace inside his usually troubled soul. But as his eyes focused to see a shrunken Sophia, enveloped in a blanket, sitting in one of the armchairs looking at nothing, his inner peace was replaced by anxiety.
He rose from the bed and walked to crouch in front of her. “Hey,” he whispered, taking her away from her thoughts. He caressed the contours of her face. “Come back to bed. It’s too early to be up and about.”
She looked so vulnerable, her eyes dark and scared; every instinct in him cried out for him to do something.
Sophia nodded, afraid to speak and hear something different in her own voice.
Carefully he picked her up from the armchair, and tugged her onto his chest, leading her back to bed. He sat, reclining on the headboard, with her on his shoulder. She was cold and tense as he tucked one of the coverlets around them. “What happened? I didn’t hear you wake up. Did you have a nightmare?”
“With Gabriel. And…I guess, the night of the kidnapping,” she whispered, and relaxed into his embrace as if the confession released something inside her. She looked up at his face, searching his eyes for assurance. “Alistair…I don’t know if I want to remember.” I’m so afraid.
His warm hand framed her face, pushing it gently to his shoulder and his long fingers plunged into her hair, combing it in a soothing movement. “The mind is wise. It will give you only what you can cope with. And I’m here, for whatever happens. I will always be here,” he breathed on her lips and lightly kissed her. “You need rest. Let’s sleep a bit more.”
7:29 a.m.
Sophia tiptoed out of the room dressed in her workout clothes. Alistair had dozed off immediately after she had feigned sleep.
As she headed downstairs to the gym, on the same floor as the Spa, she ran into Paola and Ethan on her way to breakfast, already in fitness clothes.
They had breakfast together, Sophia and Paola chatting like old friends about fashion and the new trends.
When they entered the workout room, Tavish was already there lifting weights, wearing a black T-shirt and black shorts, his muscles bulging with the effort. He didn’t notice them as he was looking at his own reflection in the mirror.
Paola winked conspiratorially at Sophia, discretely jutting her chin at the sight of his back and Sophia couldn’t stop the broad smile that appeared on her lips. From the front or from the back, Tavish was a hunk.
“Good morning, Tavish Uilleam,” Sophia said.
He turned and smiled at them, lifting one weight as a greeting, “Hey. Morning.”
A uniformed trainer walked up to them and introduced himself as Niall, asking if they needed assistance. Paola coquettishly asked for help to program the treadmill while Sophia politely refused.
Sophia went to an area where she
could stretch, before starting her usual sequence of weightlifting while Ethan joined Tavish.
8:13 a.m.
Sophia chose the treadmill that faced the extensive lawn outside, instead of one facing the TVs, where Paola and Tavish were having a nice chat while they walked at a leisurely pace, and Ethan ran at a fast speed.
The view of the lawn was soothing. Exactly what she needed. Her mind was still frayed from the nightmare and the images that persisted in the dark corners of her memory.
She played her running list on her iPod and set the treadmill to a fast pace, but slower than she was used to. She didn’t want Alistair arriving and surprising her in one of her sprints.
Her mind started to drift away, lulled by the music and the comfortable jogging pace she had set. To escape the memories, she would run to the end of the world, if necessary.
A clear flash startled her and a shimmering image took form in front of her. Sophia shook her head hard but the image didn’t disappear. “Gabriel?”
Gabriel Leibowitz was dressed in a tailored navy suit with a light-pink silk tie. He cocked his head to the side in his charming, beguiling way and smiled at her.
She held out her hand and called again, louder this time, “Gabriel?”
His sky-blue eyes sparkled and he extended his hand to hold hers, asking, “Do you want to dance?”
The speed on the treadmill was suddenly too much. Her breath was squeezed out of her lungs by a searing pain as she tripped and fell.
8:19 a.m.
“Come on, Sophia. Wake up,” Tavish coached, his voice chasing away the images that had shocked her. “Everything is okay. You’re safe.”
She blinked and looked up to stare into his concerned eyes.
“Are you feeling better?”
Still trembling, she exhaled a shuddering breath and nodded, looking around. He was kneeling next to the treadmill she had been using, with a wide-eyed Paola and a frowning, worried Ethan hovering behind him.
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