Ethan appraised Sophia, discreetly. She wore a turquoise and white Chanel suit. Underneath, the light-green silk shirt opened to show enticing cleavage. Her high-heel boots were marine leather.
He wanted her.
She’ll be mine. “Where are you staying in Geneva?”
“At a hotel,” she licked her lips.
And Ethan shifted in his seat. He cleared his throat, “And this hotel has a name?”
“You’re very curious, aren’t you, Ethan?” she chuckled.
Not normally. “Quite. Does it have a name or not?”
“Oui, bien sur, c’est le Domaine de Châteauvieux, un très petite hôtel au coeur de la campagne-” She thinned her lips and shook her head, her big white-gold diamond hoops swinging. “I’m, sorry, it’s…”
“I speak French perfectly. I understood you.” Such a beautiful accent, Sophia.
Sophia heard Leonard’s low chuckle and smiled too, “I bet. But I hate when I mix languages.”
“It happens,” Ethan set aside her fault.
“Not to me,” she grimaced. “Hasn’t it happened to you? Having to speak with two, three people of different nationalities at the same time?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Ethan frowned, “Maybe it has, yes.”
“How many languages do you speak?” Leonard asked.
“A few,” she dismissed it with a flick of her hand and crossed her long legs.
Ethan’s eyes followed the movement. “How many? Humor me,” he insisted.
“I’m fluent in six. You see, I’ve always had an aptness for languages, so it was quite easy to learn them. Besides, I studied at the British school and had a French governess. So Portuguese, English, and French are my native languages. The rest came easy. Italian and Spanish are very similar to Portuguese. German was a passion,” she shrugged, modestly. “How many do you speak?”
“You have me there. I only speak four: English, French, Italian, and Greek. I can understand and speak a little bit of Spanish, but I’m not fluent in it,” Ethan replied.
Sophia looked at Leonard waiting for his reply.
“Five: Italian, French, German, English, and Spanish. My mother’s Spanish; my father was English. You’re a great asset,” he raised an eyebrow, “interested in a partnership?”
“Your offer is an honor, but I already work with a lawyer,” she winked at Leonard.
“Where do you work?”
“I work with Professor Holbrook.” Yeah, he is my supervisor at Cambridge.
“From Holbrook and Barton?”
“Ah… Yes.” Sophia, be careful.
“Where did Holbrook find you?” Leonard asked. “He’s a friend. We have a kind of partnership. How long have you been working there?”
“Let’s say I found him,” she answered cryptically. Try to keep lies as truthful as possible.
“You came to see a client in Geneva?” Ethan asked.
“No.”
“Are you here on business?” he insisted.
“Yes. But I don’t usually talk about business except with the client, Ethan,” Sophia replied, her expression serious.
“Can’t or won’t?” Ethan insisted.
“Neither. I don’t, period,” she kept staring at him, lips thinning.
“Ashford, you know we must follow some rules,” Leonard intervened.
“Oh, Allenthorp, sometimes you’re too boring,” Ethan huffed. “You like to keep things in the dark, don’t you, Sophia?”
Sophia took her time to answer. She drank her water, licked her lips, and bit the lower one, totally unaware of the effect this had on the man in front of her.
Ethan felt the blood run hotter in his veins and he gripped the arm of his seat harder.
She played with a lock of her hair, twisting it around her finger and curled up her lips slightly, “Things are more exciting when one unveils them bit by bit. One loses interest fast when they’re too easy.”
They landed at Geneva International Airport fifty minutes after takeoff. The flight hadn’t been as bad as they expected as the snowstorm waited for their arrival to hit.
They hurried inside the building, laughing, all composure lost in the frosty air. The temperature had dropped to below zero and the snow was already falling heavily.
“So, can I give you a ride back to London? I’m leaving tomorrow at three o’clock, possibly four, if that’s okay for you.”
“No, thank you, don’t worry,” she smiled at him, her cheeks rosy from the cold.
“You didn’t like my company,” he teased.
“I didn’t say that, Ethan,” she grinned at him, “I’m not flying back tomorrow. I have many important things to do. They’ll take time.”
“Are you going to spend the weekend here? When are you returning? I can wait for you.”
“No, thanks,” she said firmly but with a charming smile, “I don’t want to be a burden.” She pushed the sleeve of her suit to look at her Santos 100 Skeleton watch. “I have to go.”
Ethan’s hand shot forward and gently held her left wrist. “I like your watch. It’s quite a masterpiece.” He turned her arm from right to left. “It’s not common to see a woman using this kind of watch.”
“This kind of watch?” she parroted, intrigued.
“Indeed. It’s a very masculine watch. The watch is too large for your delicate wrist.”
“Well, I normally wear masculine watches. I think they complement my wrist. You see, they’re perfect opposites. My wrist is fragile and small, breakable; the watch is sturdy, large, and made to last,” she smiled and extricated her wrist from his grip.
“You’re a bold woman, aren’t you?” his eyes sparkled.
Sophia didn’t answer, smiling and saying, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ethan. Thank you very much for the pleasant flight.” She took a card out of her wallet, but put it back and searched for a different one.
Leonard exchanged looks with Ethan and he chuckled. She was dismissing Ethan.
“Here,” she handed a card to each man and tucked the men’s into her wallet. “Leonard, it was an honor. Call me next week to collect your lunch. I pick the place. Take care.”
With those final words, she turned and walked away.
Ethan stood there, staring at the gentle sway of Sophia’s hips, thinking of the many ways he wanted to have her, of the many places: in the plane, at his office, in his bed. He shifted from one foot to another, trying to ease the discomfort between his legs.
The flight had been a torture. Sitting in front of her, smelling that goddamn sweet scent that wafted from her, wanting to touch, to feel, to taste and not being able to… Jesus. She’s intelligent, bright, and lovely; I have to give in, she’s not like the others. And most of all, she has fire. I’m sure. It’s just unlit or smothered. But then, I’ve always loved playing with fire.
“Allenthorp,” said Ethan, slowly shaking his head, trying to dispel the fog of desire that clouded his brain.
“Yes?” answered Leonard, noticing the resolute way the woman marched through the corridors of Geneva Airport. He looked again at the card and murmured to himself, “Strange, the contact is not from Holbrook & Taylor’s.”
“She will return with me. I will see to it,” Ethan decided.
“Wanna bet? A thousand pounds she won’t,” he rolled his eyes, amused.
“Done,” he said, punching his friend’s arm lightly. “Prepare the check.”
Ethan Ashford’s laughter rang in the air of Geneva Airport as heads turned to look at the stunning pair of businessmen, one dark and one fair.