“You’ve told her about your preferences?”
“She is too innocent and-” Alistair sighed. “The truth is I’m afraid of scaring her away.”
“She has the right to know, Alistair Connor. Or is she worth a change?”
“She’s worth everything. Anything.” He looked toward the huge windows of his office, his gaze distant. But I hurt her. I can never apologize enough.
“But?” Tavish tilted his head, studying Alistair’s face. “Alistair Connor, I really think you should see a therapist. If she’s half what Alice told me...” He looked his brother in the eye, “she won’t abide your sexual orientation.”
“Have you been talking about Sophia behind my back?” Alistair’s face darkened. “What is your interest in her?”
He sustained the dark stare. “None. My interest rests on you. And our family. I won’t see another Heather-”
Alistair banged his fist on the table startling his brother. “Sophia is nothing like Heather.”
“Okay, okay,” Tavish put his hands up, “I know that now.” He raised from his chair and put both hands on the desk, leaning toward his brother, “But do you? Are you ready to be in a relationship with her? A real, normal relationship? Is she strong enough to avoid turning into another Heather? Or are you going to degrade her like Heather did with you?”
London, The City, Fleet Street.
Leibowitz Oil Building.
9.16 a.m.
Sophia tried in vain to stifle a yawn and giggled, as Edward watched her with keen eyes from the armchair opposite her desk.
His blue eyes twinkled and he grinned wickedly at her. “Not enough sleep?”
“Nope.” Her voice was still a bit hoarse and she fingered the Hermès printed silk scarf she had put around her neck.
“I take it the CEO of The City of London Bank knows his job well?”
Sophia just smiled and blinked trying to fight the sleepiness that was taking hold of her.
“I told you, Sophia, third one’s the charm.”
She yawned again and Edward’s grin broadened. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
“I need caffeine.” She rose from her chair and stretched, looking at him with a naughty expression on her face. “Do you want one?”
“Yeah, please.”
She made a couple of coffees with her Nespresso machine and handed one to Edward. “Well. I can say I didn’t sleep much,” she picked up her coffee and sat back on her chair. The memory of them making love over the weekend surfaced. “Only a few hours last night. This morning I skipped the gym, had to drag myself to the shower and three coffees haven’t helped. I’m still sleepy.”
“Come on, Sophia. The full report.”
“Edward!”
“You spent the whole weekend with him?”
She turned on her iMac and glanced away from him, blushing, “I did.”
“That good, huh?”
You can’t imagine. “Nope. Better,” she winked and focused on the contract on her computer screen. “So-”
“How do you rate him?”
Off the charts. She refused to glance at him, biting her lip to stop her joyful smile from appearing.
He shoved a hand in his blond hair, pushing it back from his forehead and settled down more comfortably in the armchair, “I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me all about it.”
That made her turn her head and stare at him amused. Edward’s smile was impossibly wide and mischievous. He looked like a boy waiting for his favorite story.
“Fine. I would give him... a ten,” she grinned, “maybe eleven. But I’d never tell him. He’s already too conceited. He’d probably laugh, just like he laughed at me the whole weekend.” Or probably not. He would be angry if he knew I was gossiping with Edward about his sexual prowess. Him and his mercurial moods.
“Aaand?”
Her eyes twinkled and she whispered, “He is a... devil in bed.”
“One of my kind.” Edward wiggled his eyebrows.
“Edward! I wouldn’t have thought you were so vain.” She creased her brow in thought. “No. I’m wrong. He’s not a devil. He’s an angel.” An angel? Alistair Connor? No. Never.
“He can’t be too angelic if he put that naughty look on your face.”
“Not angelic, no. A fallen angel,” she finished, smiling. “Anyhow, an angel. He took me to heaven, maybe surreptitiously, quite a few times during the weekend,” she giggled and Edward laughed with her.
The intercom buzzed and Sophia pressed the button with a big smile on her face. “Yes?”
“Mrs. L., Dr. Walter is on your private line. May I transfer him?”
“Dr. Walter? Dr. John Walter?”
“Yes, Mrs. L.,” Sarah confirmed.
“Transfer him, please, Sarah,” Sophia picked up the handset and rose from her chair, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looking absentmindedly at the beautiful view of the River Thames.
“Hello? Sophia?” John Walter’s quiet voice reached her.
“Hi, John. How are you? How are Claire and the children?”
“Everyone’s fine, my dear. You and Gabriela?”
“We’re fine. Thanks. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Sophia, I... My secretary received a call earlier from Alistair MacCraig asking for an appointment today at six. For both of you. Together.”
Oh, damn. “Ah... Yes.” Please, say you can’t fit us in. Please. Please!
“I have a C-section scheduled at five, so I can’t fit you in. I’m sorry.”
She sighed, relieved. “If it won’t work today, don’t worry about it. It’s not an emergency.”
Sophia heard him speaking with someone and the clicking sound of a keyboard. “I wanted to check with you first before confirming the appointment. I found it... unusual, since you always come alone. And quite frankly this is the first time... I’ve had this kind of request from... the boyfriend. Hmm, let’s see... This week is quite full. I can fit you in either today or tomorrow, but only at twelve-thirty. I don’t have any other times for the rest of the week. Or it could be next week.”
“Let me check with Alistair and I’ll call your secretary back, John. But don’t worry. It’s nothing important. Err... Thanks for your call. Send Claire and the kids a kiss. Take care.” She hung up and remained there looking at the phone in her hand. “Damn!” She stomped her right foot on the carpet floor.
“Something wrong?” Edward was observing her with a strange look on his face. Sophia never stomped her feet unless she was really irritated.
“Everything,” she muttered under her breath, “everything.” Still by the window, she called her secretary. “Sarah, could you please get Mr. Alistair MacCraig on the line?” She switched off and turned to Edward. “Why am I always involved with bossy men?”
“Because you are bossy too? Gabriel was too spellbound by your charms to put you on a leash. You were the only one who ordered him around.” He smiled at her, “You found someone who seems to know how to deal with you. If he weren’t firm and ignored your whims, you’d be bossing him around.”
Me? Bossing Alistair Connor MacCraig around? You have no idea, Mr. CEO. “Et tu, Brutus?” she snorted, trying to maintain an impassive face but failing miserably. She couldn’t get angry when Edward was near.
“Even I, Imperatrix,” he teased.
Her mouth split in a big grin, “Imperatrix?”
“Or should I say dominatrix?” He wiggled his brows at her. “But then, a dominatrix wouldn’t fit with MacCraig.”
Sophia scrunched her face at him, “Dominatrix? What the hell are you talking about?”