Sophia laughed at this and grabbed her iPhone. “Let’s see.”
“You are going to call your doctor at this time of night?” He gaped at her. “You are too spoiled. Hasn’t anyone ever told you nae?”
“Oh, yeah, they have. That’s why nowadays I don’t accept it so easily,” she smirked at him. “Dr. Colton? Hi, it’s Sophia Leibowitz. Don’t worry, everything’s perfectly-”
“Give me this,” he took the phone from her hand and she rolled her eyes at him. “Dr. Colton, Alistair Connor MacCraig. Sorry to disturb you at this hour, but Sophia is misbehaving.” He frowned at Sophia’s laughter. “Aye. Well, after a full day, flying up here, playing with the kids, rowing- Nae, I did. And-” He paused to listen to something the doctor said while he entered his room and flung himself in the armchair. “Okay, so I have a question. Is sex allowed?”
Sophia tried to discover what Dr. Colton was saying from Alistair’s reaction, but his poker face gave nothing away. She shrugged and entered his dressing room, taking her nightie and wrap from her suitcase. She was about to enter the bathroom when she noticed he was leaning on the doorjamb, hands shoved in his pockets.
“So?” she asked, already guessing the answer.
He looked sheepishly at her and muttered under his breath, “Stubborn woman.”
“Stubborn Highlander!” she retorted as she sashayed to the bathroom, swinging her bordeaux lace nightie by the thin straps on her index finger in blatant defiance.
As Alistair followed her trail, he thought that no sane man, much less himself, could resist the happy and naughty smile that illuminated Sophia’s face.
Ethan Ashford’s Penthouse.
Saturday, March 27th, 2010.
1.05 a.m.
Goddammit. Ethan had checked and rechecked his BlackBerry for Scott’s email. His assistant hadn’t been able to obtain Sophia’s medical report yet, but he had informed Ethan that Alistair MacCraig had taken her to Loch Carron for the weekend.
He was worried.
Ethan emailed Scott giving new orders. He drank his port, remembering their first night together. And another night, from long ago, superimposed it. Eve...
Niarchos Angepopoulos’s House.
Sunday, January 29th, 1989.
9.51 p.m.
Niarchos squeezed Isis’s hand, calling her attention to him.
“Oui, mon chèr?” she purred.
Niarchos smiled at her and raised his hand to his lips, kissing it. “I owe you.”
“Oh-la-la!” She put her hand dramatically over her heart dragging his attention to her full bosom. “This is not something my old heart could endure. Niarchos Angepopoulos owes me.”
“Look at him, Isis. Three days and he is different already.” His sharp eyes noticed how Ethan put his arm on Eve’s waist and boldly pulled her to him. “I was so worried.”
Isis pursed her lips in a charming pout. “He is very handsome, Niarchos. Eve is delighted and she promised she’s going to take good care of him,” she smiled. “I just wish I was younger.” Her finger caressed her nipple and her tongue licked her lips slowly.
A hungry look came over Niarchos’s face. He stood up lithely and commanded, “Come. I’m going to show you that experience is better than youth.”
Isis threw her head back in a laugh and eyed Niarchos’s fit body with unmasked pleasure. “Niarchos, mon chèr, your grandson has much to learn before he can step into your shoes.”
Monday, February 6th, 1989.
12.01 a.m.
A low knock on the door startled Ethan. His hand stopped and gripped his stiff arousal. He cursed softly and redressed quickly, pulling his T-shirt loosely over his tented pajama shorts.
“Yes?” he asked when he was by the door.
No one answered.
He cursed again and turned back to his bed to finish masturbating.
He was going crazy over Eve’s playing. He wanted more. He wanted everything. He had come in his trunks, in her hand, on her belly. But she didn’t allow him to make love to her saying she was still a virgin and she was afraid.
Another knock made him turn again. This time a hesitating one, followed by his name spoken softly.
Ethan heaved as undiluted desire made his erection even harder. Is it possible? Then he remembered it was February six. My birthday. I’m sixteen years old.
He opened the door and his heart leaped in his chest.
Eve was wearing a white see-through nightgown, a matching wrap and minuscule white lace panties. As the soft corridor lights illuminated her from behind, creating tantalizing shadows, Ethan’s imagination went crazy.
“Come in,” he whispered. As she hesitated, he asked, “Please?”
She swayed from one foot to another, biting her lip, and looking at him from her lowered lashes.
“Eve?” Ethan held her hand gently, tugging it.
She lifted her beautiful brown eyes and looked at him shyly. “I don’t know if I should. But... I can’t resist you,” she murmured.
He tugged again, “I won’t do anything that you don’t want.”
Ethan felt powerful when she entered his bedroom and looked from his face to his big bed, biting her lip.
“Happy birthday,” she whispered shyly.
He locked the door, put one hand on her waist and breathed on her lips, “Thank you.”
Blinking, Eve wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body onto his, “Oh, Ethan, you make me feel so good every time we’re together. I want...”
“What, Eve?”
“Can I ask for a gift? Even though it’s your birthday?”
“Yes, of course.”
She stood on her tiptoes and rubbing her breasts on his chest, asked, “Make love to me. Show me what it’s like to be a woman.”
Ethan’s mind flooded with desire and his arms hugged her closer, his hands wandering over her round buttocks, pressing her to his ready body. As he kissed her, he promised himself he would be as gentle and as patient as he could. That he would satisfy her as she had satisfied him. This is my birthday gift. A special gift.
Eve didn’t usually feel pleasure when selling her body to rich men. Nonetheless, even though she knew Ethan Ashford was a virgin, shy and a bit awkward, she would make sure that, in the morning when she left his bedroom, both of them were fully sated and delighted.
That night she would give herself to pleasure.
Chapter 15
Ethan breathed on Eve’s lips, “You are so beautiful.”
She smiled and her slender fingers caressed his nape. “And you are so handsome.”
He remembered his mother’s words. It was one thing she liked to brag about, but only because he looked like her. Of course.
This is my birthday present. Forget Calista and enjoy it. There was a slight hesitation when his hands hovered over her shoulders for a minute and he remembered his grandfather’s firm voice and wise advice. He pushed her wrap off her shoulders.
Aphrodite and Venus. Jezebel and Delilah. And Eve. Goddesses and revered women. Trouble and Temptation. Every last one.
Then her nightgown also fell to the floor, and he forgot all about religion and mythology. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her.
Kiss me. He was afraid to speak and break the magic. He willed her closer, gently pulling her forwards.
Her fingers twisted in his hair, drawing him close. She breathed over his mouth, her tongue sliding over his lips. Just a shallow, teasing pass at first. Then, on the second attempt, she pressed in, slowly, tantalizingly. She sighed into the kiss.