“You never thought about seeing a therapist?” It was more a statement than a question. From her experience as a lawyer in Brazil and at her foundation, she knew that, in cases like Alistair’s, therapy was the best option. Some men needed psychiatric supervision, but she would bet that in his case therapy would do the trick.
He shook his head, “I didn’t have the courage.”
“You need to work out these feelings. Maybe now you could talk to Tavish Uilleam or Leonard.”
He gave a brisk, bitter laugh, “Do you know their nickname for me? The mighty Alistair Connor. I can’t tell them that the wife of the mighty Alistair Connor was cheating on him. They would lose all respect they still have for me.”
“Lose respect? Why? It wasn’t your fault,” she was astonished by his line of thought.
“It must have been…” he whispered, painfully. “I must have done something very wrong.”
“The only thing you did wrong was to enter into a relationship with her,” she affirmed. “That’s why you only had one-night stands, isn’t it? You were afraid to let anyone in.”
He nodded.
“Why is it so hard for you to see yourself as I see you? You hide everything that is good and worthy about you, because you are afraid. She was a monster. She was sick. She gave you nothing and took everything. You’re magnificent.”
A small hopeful light appeared in the forest-green eyes. “Magnificent?”
Caught by the vulnerability he showed no one else, she’d whispered her answer in a kiss. “Utterly.” Sophia’s heart was bleeding for the younger Alistair and the present one. She touched his chest, “Inside here, Alistair Connor. She couldn’t see it, but you are.”
He sighed and after a few minutes in silence, he said, “Maybe, mo gràdh.”
“Mmm. I have absolutely no idea what you are calling me in this delicious language of yours.” She grinned. “I’m going to speak with you only in Portuguese from now on.”
He smiled back. “Leonard can always translate for me.”
“I doubt he would get everything. I could ask the same from Alice, but I want you to tell me.” Her nails caressed the wide expanse of his chest. “To start with, what does tha grudh gan thut mean?”
He laughed at her pronunciation. “I have no idea, but tha gradh agam dhut means I love you.”
Sophia was silent for a long time. Then she raised her head to study his face with hooded eyes, an inscrutable emotion shimmering on her face.
“What?” He cocked his head to the side, studying her features.
What? You can’t even start to imagine… She asked then, her heart beating so fiercely that she was sure he could hear it, gaining a few seconds more to be sure of her next words, “And mo gràdh?”
“My love,” he explained, combing her hair with his fingers.
I lo— Don’t, Sophia. Too soon. You have to work out all your issues and problems before you declare yourself. If you can… Sophia shook her head at herself inward. It was not time to think about those horrible things. “I won’t let you be hurt again, Alistair Connor. I promise you.”
“I love you, Sophia.”
Just as Alistair’s eyes closed in sleep, he remembered he hadn’t told her everything. Tomorrow. I will tell her tomorrow…
Chapter 14
Galewick Townhouse
Friday, January 30, 2009
7:52 p.m.
“MacCraig.” Alistair answered his cell phone and felt cold sift through his bones as the bad premonition he had been feeling since he discovered Nathalie was not in Alice’s house confirmed itself. He froze in front of the hearth. He didn’t recognize his own voice when he spoke, “I’ll be there.”
From Alistair’s ashen face, Leonard instantly knew it was something grave.
He turned off the phone and without a word walked to the front door of Leonard and Alice’s house as if he was being chased by the devil.
Leonard’s hand yanked him back. “Alistair. What happened?”
“Police. Nathalie. Car accident,” he rasped. “They are taking her to St. Mary’s hospital.”
“I’ll drive you.”
Alistair was grateful for Leonard’s help because there was a thick fog in his head.
He entered the car, and resting his head on the headrest, he closed his eyes and prayed.
Prayed for his daughter’s life.
Paddington, St. Mary’s Hospital
8:16 p.m.
Alistair flung the car door open before Leonard could stop it fully and ran inside the hospital.
His heart speeded up in his chest as he saw a gurney surrounded by doctors, being pushed quickly down a corridor.
The blonde hair of the child was matted with blood, but he would recognize his daughter any way, anywhere.
Thank Christ! My dear angel. “Nathalie,” he shouted, and ran after the gurney that was being rushed into a room.
Alistair stopped outside the room and looked through the glass window. He fell as Leonard stopped by his side, but his gaze was fixed on his daughter’s battered face as doctors and nurses pushed tubes and wires into her small body.
Christ! He tried to breathe but there was no air in his lungs. He swayed on his feet and Leonard grabbed him by the upper arms. My little Nathalie.
He blinked twice but his lovely daughter was still lying in that hospital bed, white as a ghost and broken as a ragged doll. Her small body was strangely bent in the middle and her legs were broken. The sheet that had covered her was stained red and had been flung in a corner. So much blood!
“Nathalie!” he roared and banged his fists on the window.
“Stop, Alistair!” Leonard grabbed his arms.
Nathalie tilted her face to look at him. Her blue eyes were wide open and scared.
He saw when her lips moved and said, “Daddy…”
He saw as she coughed and a trickle of blood marred her white lips.
He saw her struggling to breathe and her eyes filling with a faraway look.
The machine beeped one last time and Nathalie’s chest moved no more as a desperate and impotent Alistair screamed and pounded all his grief on a window pane.
Heather and Alistair’s Apartment
Saturday, January 31, 2009
1:08 a.m.
Alistair closed the door behind him and looked around Nathalie’s empty room.
He wished he could kill Heather for what she had done.
But he couldn’t.
He heaved a breath as a pain that couldn’t be expressed took hold of him, going on and on, crushing him.
The best time of my day was when your laughter rang in the air, Nathalie.
Now…
Now, you’ll never laugh again.
Never again will you sit with me to play with your princesses and their castles in the clouds.
You will never grow into a beautiful woman.
So many dreams I had for you, my little angel.
Now…your castles and my dreams have been shattered.
Now…you are dead.
And I am alive.
The knowledge that she was gone—forever—and that he would have to live on without her, swelled the emotions that gripped his heart. Alistair flung himself on her small bed, burying his nose in her sweet scented pillow.
I deserve to live in hell. “Nathalie,” sorrowfully he sobbed his little daughter’s name. “I’m sorry. So very sorry.”
He lay there in darkness, completely devastated, as huge sobs left his chest and his tears soaked the small pink pillow he clutched to his face.
His pain was so excruciating, his grief was so profound, his guilt was so enormous that no matter how many tears he shed, they would not ease his despair.
In the space of a few hours, Alistair turned into a black hole of nothingness.
Ells Hall
Saturday, March 20, 2010
6:16 a.m.
Fragmented images swirled in a dizzying kaleidoscope of red-and-black. Grueling impressions of cold and
pain and discomfort were overlaid with confusion and growing awareness.
Alistair fought his way out of sleep, breathing heavily as the remnants of the nightmare fell away.
He inhaled deeply and looked at the windows, and through the opening in the curtains, saw that dawn was already overtaking night with its soft pink-and-orange hues. He felt Sophia shift slightly, still pressed closely to him. Since he started sleeping with her, he hadn’t dreamt about his daughter, but the dread of telling Sophia his dark secret had brought the painful memories back.
He rose and put on a T-shirt, shorts, and running shoes. He silently left the bedroom heading to the Spa. He knew that no matter how many hours he exhausted himself on the tread-mill and with weights, nothing would take away from his memories the last image he had of Nathalie.
8:29 a.m.
Alistair’s scent is so good. Sophia burrowed her nose in his pillow.
Her lips curled as she heard the water cascading in the bathroom.
Mmmm. There is a delectable body under warm water. All alone. She jumped from the bed.
On her tiptoes, Sophia entered the bathroom. He was washing off the foam from his hair under the huge shower. It was perfect for his size. His back, shoulder and arm muscles contracted with strength. Sophia’s mouth watered. She opened the shower door silently and pressed herself flush to his back.
“Christ, Sophia!” he shouted as she startled him under the water.
“Good morning, Handsome.” She rubbed her face on his back, kissing him. “You make a fine sight to start the day.”
She ran her hands on his chest and kept them moving down.
He was already becoming hard and she gripped him tightly.
Sophia’s laugh hung in the bathroom.
“What you do to me, Sophia.” He turned and engulfed her in his arms. “Sleep well?”
“Yes. The exercise made me relax,” she said dismissively.
“The exercise? The gall!” He fisted her wet hair and yanked her head back, kissing her fully on the lips, his tongue demanding entrance. He backed Sophia onto the marble, trapping her between his warm body and the cold wall. She hissed and tensed.
“Feel that? I’m going to have you right now just for your petulance.”
She flexed her stomach onto his hot and hard erection and moaned, “Yes.”
“Rough.” He softly bit her neck and she gasped, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him for a demanding kiss.
Lips clashed and tongues entwined.
Her foot trailed up his calf, her leg rubbing the side of his solid thigh.
His hand dropped to her knee and traveled up her thigh, caressing her, testing, teasing, and without asking permission, two fingers plunged inside her.
Sophia broke the kiss with a cry, panting.
He stared at her eyes full of desire, and his own flamed. “So ready, Beauty,” he murmured against her lips. His strong hands grasped the back of her thighs and hauled her up, gliding her breasts on his chest. He grunted and ordered, “Wrap your legs around me.”
“So bossy, Handsome.” She wound her long legs around his waist and locked her ankles, pressing her heels on his buttocks. Her hands plunged in his wet hair.
He backed her onto the wall and pressed his chest onto hers.
“What do you want?” He let her slide down just a bit, his straining erection finding her entrance, teasing.
“You. Any way you want,” she replied, huskily. “Inside me. Now. Here. Forever.”
“Yes!” He sank himself into her and started to work her body in a frenzy.
She moaned loudly, “Give me more. Give me everything.” So good.
He pounded and circled his hips, teasing her clitoris. His fingers adjusted better on her thighs and buttocks and one of them brushed her tight rear opening. She tensed.
“Relax,” he said and slowly thrust his index finger into her.
She gasped. And moaned, relaxing in his arms.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me show you.”
Sophia felt she was rising higher and higher while he pounded into her, hammering with all his might. Her whole body started to tremble in time with her shaking legs.
“Let go, Sophia. I’ve got you,” he crooned and widened his stance without slowing his tempo.
She moaned with desire, “Alistair.”
“That’s it, Beauty. Come for me.”
Sophia’s throat convulsed and she arched her body on his, calling his name as an intense orgasm consumed her.
He watched her with an intense, undefined emotion as he filled her. He saw another shudder of pleasure shake her body and he ordered, thrusting deep and hard in her, “Again.”
She gasped, shaking her head, struggling to maintain her hold on him, feeling boneless.
“I. Said. Again,” he ordered in a hiss, licking and nibbling her neck and shoulder, thrusting fast. “Let me consume you.”
“Ah!” Her insides clenched and coiled and she screamed again as a second orgasm hit her.
Her yellow-diamond eyes flew opened as a third wave washed through her. She let out a long and loud gasp and her whole body stiffened and snapped, as a fierce lightning bolt coursed from her nape to the end of her spine, tearing her apart with hard shudderings.
He came violently, burying his head on her neck, inhaling her scent, filling her with his release. He remained inside her for some time as if he wanted to fuse himself with her, mark her body as his.
With his back now to the wall, he slid down to the marble floor with Sophia tenderly nestled in his arms.
After a few minutes, still panting hard, he asked her, “First time?”
What is he talking about? She blinked at him, her brow creased, barely breathing. “We’ve made love,” she gasped for air, “in the shower before.”
He smiled at her inexperience. So refreshing. He whispered on her temple, “First time you had a multiple orgasm?”
“Oh. No, second.” She purred like a kitten, rubbing her face on his broad shoulder and kissing his collarbone. “The first time was in my pantry, a few days ago.”
“I’ve always envied this ability women have. From one to ten, how would you rate this one?”
“This one? Twenty,” she murmured. “I was about to freak out. It was…staggering.”
“I noticed.” He chuckled. “And first time in your ass?” Sophia blushed and he laughed out loud. “Hmm, I think so.”
“First time,” she confessed. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the rapid rhythm of his heart. “This is the most wonderful music I have ever heard.”
“Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony?”
“No.” She grinned at him. “I didn’t even notice that was on. I was talking about the beat of your heart.”
He buried his face in her hair. He lifted his head to look into her eyes and remembered. Fuck. I haven’t told her everything yet.
“Let’s finish this shower.” He stood up and pulled her to her feet, holding her against his body as he tenderly soaped her.
“Mmmm. This is so good,” she moaned in his arms, her hands roaming freely over his strong back. “I’ll become addicted to this.”
I do hope you get addicted so when I tell you my whole story you won’t back away from our relationship.
He rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes, for a fleeting second imagining what his life could have been if he could go back in time and be whole again for her. His arms tightened around her, holding her against him, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. He whispered so low that Sophia almost didn’t hear, “I love you so much.”
Ethan Ashford’s Penthouse
9:45 a.m.
The beautiful dark-haired woman stopped at the door to the home office and knocked softly, pushing it as she heard a voice commanding her to enter.
“Good morning, Scott,” she said, stepping into the office.
“Good morning, Sophia,” Scott replied with a smile.
The woman purs
ed her lips. “Scott, I’ve already asked you not to call me Sophia when Ethan isn’t around. My name is Barbara.”
Scott’s smile waned and he frowned.
“So-phi-a,” he stressed the name. “You knew the rules and you agreed to them. But if you are not satisfied…” He left the threat hanging in the air.
Barbara sighed and lowered her head, “I’m sorry. I won’t ask again. I…I was wondering if I could have a day off. I need to visit my mother.”
“Ask Mr. Ashford, Sophia. I’m sure he’ll comply. He has a very big heart,” Scott encouraged her. “He’s having his breakfast. Go on.”
“I…”
“Go, go, Sophia. The real…you wouldn’t doubt—er…your course of action. Try to be more assertive. Mr. Ashford is not going to bite you.”
“You know I need the money,” Barbara said. “I can’t risk displeasing him, Scott.”
“You won’t.” He motioned with his hand for her to exit the room, “Now, go. Ask what you want in the next half hour. We have a meeting after that.”
“Okay. Wish me luck,” Barbara asked and bit her lip.
Scott laughed. “You don’t need luck, my dear. Just bite your lip and ask what you want. He will grant it, I’m sure.”
That made her stop in the middle of the room, “Why do you say that?”
“You do exactly what the…ah…first Sophia did. I’m sure that’s the reason he chose you, besides, of course, your great similarity. It’s impressive,” Scott explained.
Barbara pulled up a chair and sat next to Scott, looking into his watery-blue eyes. “Scott, I need to study her. I need to see her. I need to know her life. Where she studies. What she does. Who are her friends. Photos, videos. Everything. Can you get me those?”
While Scott thought about her request, Barbara continued talking, an idea forming in her mind, “Wouldn’t it be nice for you, if he was happier with me as her?”
“Come again? If he were…happier with you?”
Shades of Trust Page 52
