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“Ah… But I’m not that easy to conquer, Mr. Giulio Cesare Ashford.” Her smile widened.

“So, it seems that I will have to put all my resources to the task,” he growled. He liked sparing with words.

Easy victories are for lesser men. Besides, it will add spice to the relationship. Relationship? Jesus! Where has this sprung from?

“So you barge into my office to propose…” She tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “What are you proposing, Ethan?”

“Not a one-night stand. That’s for sure. I want something more permanent for us. How can I propose something if you’ve vanished since our last dinner?”

“I see.” She sipped her tea again, playing for time. What shall I answer?

“What do you fear?” He leaned in toward her. “‘Never was anything great achieved without danger.’”

“Oh, please!” She suddenly looked exasperated. “Seriously. Do you really think life is a war?”

He was startled. “Have you read The Art of War?” He straightened his back to tower over her.

“Machiavelli’s entire work. In the original Italian,” she boasted and rose from her chair, facing him. “First Julius Caesar, then Machiavelli. Who’s next? Robespierre? Oh, no. Not Robespierre. Too revolutionary, wasn’t he? Life is not a war, Ethan.”

Ethan smiled, amused. She won’t let herself be cornered. Good, very good. I just have to keep fueling her fire.

“All right, all right.” He raised his hands in a peace gesture. “How about passion?”

“Passion…” She sat again and drilled her nails on the glass desk, meditating. “Yes, passion is an indispensable ingredient of life.” Then the smile came back to her lips, “and to war.”

So easy. “See, we came back to the beginning. It’s just a different way of putting it. I wish- No. I’m inviting you to go out with me again, Sophia. Today. An opera, a ballet, a play; choose… After, dinner.” He seized her hand and squeezed it lightly. “Please.”

He is handsome. Intelligent, charming, a gentleman. Attentive to detail. Quite arrogant and possessive, yes, but then everyone has imperfections. Don’t I have mine too? Why not fall for his seduction? Gabriel’s not returning from the dead. He wouldn’t want me to live alone for the rest of my life, ending up a bitter, dry woman.

“Okay,” she capitulated. “Just let me know what time you’re going to pick me up. I’m certain I’ll appreciate your choice, as always,” she smiled.

London, Eaton Square.

Friday, January 15th, 2010.

8 p.m.

Sophia wore a one-shoulder, dark-red turtleneck dress and black velvet high heels.

No driver. No Rolls-Royce. No driver. Mmm… She remembered Edward’s words. “He’ll want to impress you.”

Ethan arrived to pick Sophia driving a red Ferrari. Over the last few days, he had paraded four different expensive cars and took her to the best restaurants in town. He was always attentive and charming.

“Hello.” She entered the car and fastened the seatbelt, turning to look at him, a smile on her lips.

He perused her with lust in his electric blue eyes. “Each day you look more ravishing, Sophia.” His hand touched her right naked shoulder and ran down her arm, entwining his fingers with hers. He leaned in and kissed her hungrily. “This dress is quite sensual. I like you in blood-red. It enhances your face and your hair. Brings out the fire in you.”

“More compliments.” She smiled. “What do you want today, Ethan?”

His azure eyes sparkled and his grin turned wicked, but he didn’t answer the question.

As always, time flew when she was with him. He showed real interest in her opinions about his enterprises and asked pertinent questions about her lectures at Cambridge and her work at Leibowitz Oil.

“You didn’t like the set I gave you?” Ethan fingered a stunning clip she was wearing and looked at her.

“I loved it.” She cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t wear it today because it doesn’t go as well with the red dress. Why?”

“You’ve only used it twice.” He thinned his lips. “This one is gorgeous, Sophia. It’s also a Van Cleef, isn’t it?” He took in the earrings and the ring. “A gift?”

“Yes, to both questions.”

“I don’t like you using gifts given by other men.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Ethan, it wasn’t given to me by other men. My husband gave it to me. This represents a Nereid, one of the fifty maiden sea nymphs and daughters of Nereus, the sea-god, and Doris, who was the daughter of Oceanus. I love Greek mythology. Do you know the legend?”

“Did your husband think you vain and a traitress?” He was suddenly angry. “There is not an ounce of vanity or deceit in you.”

“Sea nymphs aren’t mermaids. According to the legend, the sea nymphs helped sailors navigate back to their lands. He gave me this because he said I was his beacon in life.”

His forehead creased. Now, he was angry and annoyed. “Nevertheless, I don’t like you using it. Use them to work, not when you go out with me.”

“Ethan!” Sophia laughed. “I cannot use this kind of jewelry to work. They’re high jewelry.”

He thinned his lips again, breathed deep, and changed the conversation. “Perhaps you want to have coffee at my apartment?” He flashed her a charming smile and touched her hand lightly with his fingers. “I bought a special blend from Nespresso and it just came in. Since you like coffee, I’m sure you will appreciate it.”

That’s it. It is now or never. Courage, Sophia! “Sounds good.”

They left the restaurant. The valet had already fetched Ethan’s Ferrari for them.

Park Lane. Ethan Ashford’s Penthouse.

11.01 p.m.

He lived near The Dorchester Hotel, on Park Lane, in a spectacular penthouse apartment on the tenth floor of a very exclusive building. A private lift served it.

The huge reception room was all done in white, glass, and steel with two enormous sofas and a glass center table. No building hindered the stunning vista from the three terraces encircling the apartment.

The white and dark green contemporary kitchen was immaculately kept. He went to one of the consoles where there was a Nespresso coffee machine and selected a blend. “Will you try the new blend?”

“Yes, thank you.” She stopped by one of the glass windows admiring the view. London never ceased to amaze her. She just loved this city with its majestic buildings and regal aura, but she had felt detached from it since she moved here. She had always liked to explore its mysteries, but unlike others who roamed at will, she hid from prying eyes. For how long?

Ethan handed Sophia her cup. “Do you like the view?”

“Uh-huh. Fantastic.”

“Let’s drink this in the living room.”

They sat on the sofa, side by side, Ethan’s arm casually on her shoulders, his hand, undemanding, caressing her bare arm.

“I love Pollock and Francis Bacon,” she said, looking at the paintings hanging on the wall. “They’re among my favorite painters.”

He smiled at her, “Mine, too.”

He made small talk about art, waiting for her to finish her coffee and put her cup and saucer on the center table beside his.

The second she sat back beside him, he shifted on the sofa and his hands framed her face. “Sophia…” His voice hoarse.

Oh, God. Time to face the beast or rather the beauty. She crushed the hysterical nervous laugh that threatened to escape.

Sophia looked up and stared into his eyes. They were charged with a potent hunger. She parted her lips and wetted them with the tip of her tongue.