Good. Next question. “And what about her last tests?” He heard her profound sigh.
John checked the screen again. “She was here on February twenty-sixth, just after... Ah...” He flickered his eyes at Sophia, who was looking down at her steepled fingers. “The accident at Galewick Hall, had her regular check-up and did all the tests. Blood, urine, ultrasound, STDs, HIV, everything. I’m quite careful about those and she is a very obedient patient. She is clean, like she told you. What else do you want to know?”
“I think that covers everything.” Alistair had the grace to look embarrassed. “Could you ask for the same tests for me so she-”
“There’s no need,” Sophia gently interrupted him.
He looked at her, “Sophia, you-”
“I believe you. That’s enough for me.” You have to learn how to believe in yourself too, Alistair.
Last time I did what a woman told me- Stop this, Alistair Connor. Stop. This. Try to listen to what she is telling you.
John watched, intrigued, the silent dueling of power and dominance between the two of them as emotions crossed over Alistair’s usual poker face, first disbelief, shame, then acceptance.
“I see,” he murmured, giving in, but not at all convinced. “Don’t you want any other reassurance, Sophia?” Please, say you do.
“None,” she shook her head, “besides your word.”
Honor. That’s what she is trying to tell me. His green eyes bore down on hers and what he saw in them made him nod, reluctantly, “So be it. I’ve already given it.” He rose from his armchair and stretched his hand to help her, putting an arm around her waist, squeezing it lightly. “Let’s not waste any more of John’s time.”
“No problem... It was a pleasure to help you. But, please, Alistair, don’t call me every time... Ah... Sophia floats on to cloud nine,” John teased, his face opening in a full smile.
Alistair couldn’t contain his own smile, “No, I won’t. If I did, you wouldn’t be able to-”
“For God’s sake, Alistair Connor,” Sophia slapped Alistair’s biceps, blushing, “behave.”
He laughed out loud. He so loved to watch her blush. “That, sweetheart, I can promise you I won’t do.”
Outside Dr. John Walter’s Office.
12.25 p.m.
“Hey, relax,” Sophia coaxed, caressing his knuckles with her thumb, while they walked out of the clinic. “If you want to have your tests done again, do them.”
“It’s not that.” He looked down at her from his full height, his brows draw over his Cartier gold Santos sunglasses, “I don’t understand why you didn’t let me pay John’s fees. I asked for the appointment. I should pay.”
She blinked and frowned, halting instantly in the middle of the street. She put her hands on her hips and glowered at him, “Alistair Connor. John Walter is my gynecologist. Mine.”
With one step, he stood closer and gripped her chin, taking off her Louis Vuitton sunglasses to peer into her eyes, “I asked for the appointment.”
“So?” she shrugged.
“You are keeping me out and I don’t like it,” he hissed the last words between clenched teeth.
“Ah,” comprehension dawned on her. “But I’m not keeping you out. I’m just setting a boundary for you. And I hope you respect it. Let me make myself clear again, Alistair. John Walter is my doctor. If you need any information concerning me or my body, you first have to ask me if they are available to you.” She slightly narrowed her eyes at him, “I’m not giving you this power. You are already an overbearing-”
The fingers that held her chin plunged into her hair, the other hand, still holding her glasses, snaked around her waist, dragging her flush to his body and he kissed her stormily in the middle of Earl’s Court Road.
He raised his head, panting, “You drive me crazy when you defy me.”
“If this kiss, in the middle of Kensington, is what I can expect for my defiance,” she licked her reddened lips, “then, I think I will defy you again and again.”
“I don’t know if that’s very bad, or very good,” Alistair shook his head, with a smile on his lips.
Her fingers were drawn inexorably to his gorgeous silky hair and she teased, “My lord Marquis, you are so feudalist, demanding full obeisance of your wishes...”
“And you are an anachronism, my lady. You love medieval theologians and philosophers, but also you have totally contemporary and inappropriate teenage behavior. I can’t place you.”
“Teenage? Really?” she smiled, amused. “Mmm. You are not the first to think I behave like a teenager around you. Maybe I give you this impression because when I’m around you, you make me want to do things to provoke you.”
“Provoke me?” He didn’t mind at all that they were in the middle of the busy sidewalk, at lunch hour, and he tugged her hair, making her move her head back to escape the pain.
Her lips stretched and curled open in a devious smile, “I love seeing you out of your depth when I do things you don’t expect. It’s almost... comical. It makes me giddy,” and she finished in a whisper, “and horny.”
Comical? The grip on her hair loosened as Alistair’s jaw dropped open. He was speechless. Not one coherent thought came to his mind to answer her provocation.
“Yeah, teenage perhaps,” she continued and shrugged, “but then, I’m entitled to be a little irresponsible. You’ll just have to come to terms with me,” she paid no heed to his stern regard, “and my behavior. Now, if you want my company for a quick lunch, move! I have to work and Gabriela demands my presence at home by five. Ah,” she rose on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips, “by the way, thanks for the doll. She loved it.”
Alistair’s face split in a huge grin at the mention of Gabriela. “She already called me. What time am I supposed to be at your house tonight?”
“Six, if you want to play with Corolle,” she smirked at him. “Gabriela dines at six-thirty and goes to bed at seven-thirty.” She tugged him by the hand and he pulled her in the other direction. She paused and looked at him.
“This way. I’m going to take you to a new restaurant: Kitchen W8. Have you been there?”
“Not yet. I thought we could get some Chinese food.”
“I’ve already made reservations.”
More orders, Alistair Connor? “Oh. You did.” The sarcasm was not lost on him.
You really don’t take orders well, do you, Sophia? “The food is delicious. Traditional English food, but with a modern twist. You’ll like it.”
“Very well,” she complied.
They walked a few minutes, hand in hand, in companionable silence.
Sophia glanced at Alistair’s thoughtful face, “A penny for your thoughts.”
He looked down at her for a moment and then asked, “You don’t go out much, do you?”
“Not really. I don’t have many friends here and I don’t see the fun in going to the theatre or eating alone in a restaurant. I prefer staying in with Gabriela. Besides, I’m very exacting when it comes to food, in general. From its freshness to the final dish presented to me. I guess it comes from having been a Cordon Bleu student.”
“Hmm, I guess.” He put his arm around her back, dragging her close to him as they walked toward the restaurant. “But...”
“But?”
“That not it, is it, Sophia?”
No. It’s not. I need to remain hidden. “What else could it be?”
He stopped in front of the restaurant door and lifted her sunglasses to look into her eyes, “Why don’t you trust me with whatever secrets you are keeping?”