Shades of Trust

by Cristiane Serruya

  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 savaged 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 clitoris.

  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, 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, looking 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, specially for 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, bodies and garters he had bought took her aback. She didn’t know what to say but didn’t want to appear ungrateful. She had 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.” And the first one I didn’t pay.

  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!” He 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, but in her heart the resolve was already melting. Really, Ethan? Are you being sincere?

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

  And maybe I have overreacted; don’t make a mountain out of a molehill, Sophia. She 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.

  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?”

  Yes, I do. “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.”

  “Darling, 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 feeling overwhelmed by all the gifts. Sophia, you don’t need this.

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

  Chapter 6

  Leibowitz Oil Building

  Monday, January 18, 2010

  9:00 a.m.

  Edward knocked on Sophia’s office door.

  The click of the lock informed him that Sophia had unlocked it and he entered the elegant room.

  She smiled at her friend, saying, “Good morning.”

  He closed the door behind him and stopped mid-stride, analyzing her fresh face and impossibly huge smile. Pursing his lips, he stated, “You got laid.”

  Sophia blushed. “God, Edward! And they say the British are restrained and reserved.”

  “Love, I’m just stating a fact. Nothing more.” He sat in front of her. “You look absolutely radiant. Soooo, Mr. Gorgeous was a good partner in bed?”

  “Stop this, Edward. You’re using your CEO powers over me to gossip about my sex life.” She flung her pen at him.

  He caught it in the air, laughing. “Sophia, Sophia. It’s you. You have the power.” He tossed her pen back to her. “You just don’t know how to use it.”

  Sophia shook her head at him. “We have a lot to discuss today.” She cocked her head to one side. “I just got the contract for the new engines.” She frowned. “I’d like you to analyze it with me.” She pulled out a brown envelope and tapped her pen on it. “Have you seen the project the students from the University of Strathclyde are developing?” As he nodded, she continued, “It’s absolutely fantastic. I’m sending a note to Williams from Tech to take a good look at it and report back to me. I think we should invest in them. Maybe we could enroll them in an internship or something. Think about it.”

  Sophia bit her lip and looked at her notes, underlining one of them. “I’m worried about the loan agreement. I studied the draft Mr. Wales sent. I didn’t like some of the clauses.” She stared at him. “And more, I don’t feel comfortable around him, Edward. There’s something that nags me. I want a meeting with the CEO.”

  “Oh, please, Sophia, don’t start.” He thinned his lips. “Just because Wales drools over you?” She shook her head. “Instincts again?” She nodded and he sighed. “It took me almost three months to get this loan as it is. The rates are good. The City of London Bank is a well-known institution. What is the problem?”

  “I think we can get a lower interest rate. And have you read the most recent draft?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I don’t agree with their penalty clauses and they’re asking for too many guaranties. I’m sorry, but as president of the board, I’m vetoing it as it is, Edward.”

  “Heavens, Sophia!” He threw his hands in his blond hair, exasperated. “What are you vetoing?”

  “Have you negotiated a hundred-and-fifty percent as guaranty?”

  “No, of course not,” he balked, surprised.

  “I think you should read the draft he has sent and ask for another meeting, urgently. I know you don’t want to lose the bidding season for the subsalt oil in Brazil. It’s a potential gold mine of oil and gas reserves. Gabriel was so excited by the discovery of the Tupi field. It is the perfect opportunity for Leibowitz Oil Brazil to forge a more extensive association with the Brazilian government.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “We can renegotiate it. I’ve underlined the clauses that need reviewing. Or…” She chewed on her lips. “We could always do an IPO.”

  His blue eyes widened. “You’re going to put LO on the stock market? What would Gabriel think of this?”

  “Gabriel was open-minded, Edward. It’s an easy way to raise funds. You can choose; do we have time to renegotiate the cont
ract? If so, go for it. Otherwise, I’ll grant the loan to LO myself while we prepare the IPO.”

  “We’re running out of time. And we definitely have no time to prepare an IPO, Sophia. Besides, I’m not allowing you to make a personal loan. We have dis—” The intercom buzz interrupted him.

  “Yes, Sarah?” Sophia said in a displeased voice.

  “Mrs. L, I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s from Ashford Steel again.”

  Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’m busy, Sarah. Tell Mr. Ashford that I’ll call back as soon as possible.”

  “Uh, Mrs. L, he’s not on the line.”

  “No?” Sophia forehead creased.

  “No. He left a message saying he’ll pick you up at one o’clock to take you to lunch. His secretary is on the line; he wants to know where he should make the reservations.”

  His secretary! The gall. “In hell,” she muttered.

  “I beg your pardon, Mrs. L?” Sarah sounded shocked.

  Edward barked a laugh.

  “Sarah, tell Mr. Ashford’s secretary that Mrs. Leibo— Mrs. Santo. Heavens, Sophia! You have to decide what name you want to use. This is quite confusing.”

  Sophia smiled at him. “Easy. Mrs. Santo for those who don’t know who I am.”

  “Right. So, Sarah, tell Mr. Ashford’s secretary Mrs. Santo wants to go to China Tang at The Dorchester,” Edward finished, shaking his head at her.

  “Hold on, please, Sarah.” She touched the mute button, “No way, Mr. CEO.” If he wants me to have lunch with him, he should call me. Yes, that’s it. “Sarah, tell Mr. Ashford’s secretary that I don’t have an answer for him. And, please, only call me again if Mr. Ashford himself is on the line. I won’t answer if anyone else calls. Only him or Gabriela. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Y-yes, Mrs. L. I’m sorry,” Sarah stammered.

  “Poor, poor Sarah,” Edward tsked. “So moody, Sophia. Why didn’t you answer his secretary?”

  “Edward. He should call, not his secretary.”

  “You haven’t fallen for him.” He shook his head, pity in his eyes.