Trust (40 page)
Alistair smiled, “You’re stealing my lines. What am I supposed to say now?” His fingers trailed over her face, over her jaw, and down her throat, his green eyes blistering with desire.
“I want you, Sophia,” he whispered, his gaze hypnotizing her, “Badly.” He framed her face and his head bent, his emerald eyes studying her. “Let’s go to my room. Or yours.”
She blinked, feeling burned by his scorching gaze. “Alistair, please, don’t insist.”
“I want to devour you.” His lips brushed hers, caressing smoothly, before lightly pressing his tongue on the seam of her lips. “You’ve turned me into a greedy, hungry beast.”
Beauty and the beast. It figures
.
She batted her lashes at him. “I can give you a taste.” She opened to him like a flower seeking water and closed her eyes to enjoy all the passion he put in a simple kiss. His lips were warm, soft, unyielding, and demanded total surrender.
He turned his body to face her. “I don’t want a taste,” he murmured after the kiss, “I want it all.” His hands released her face to wander over her shoulders and unnervingly slowly down her body to find her breasts. He palmed them over her cashmere sweater.
She moaned and arched her back. Her hands sought his shoulders for support. He buried his face on her neck.
“You’re like velvet, like silk,” he said between kisses. “Please, Sophia. Say yes.”
“Good things come…” Her head fell back, giving him total access to her throat “to those who wait. Patience is a virtue, Alistair.”
“I’m patient,” he murmured on her lips “but I’ve told you, I’m no saint.” He smashed her lips into his with a savage kiss. When he broke it, he raised his head to look at her. His kiss left her panting with reddened and swollen lips. He couldn’t resist that vision of beauty in front of him; grabbing her by the hips, he made her straddle him. Sophia jerked away in astonishment, opening her eyes wide.
Alistair gazed deeply at her. “Hush, we’re alone,” before dropping his head again to kiss her leisurely.
Sophia blinked, dizzy with lust, the kisses and the heady thrill of his love. “We’re outside.”
“God won’t be offended,” he whispered back, dragging up her burgundy sweater with one hand. “You’re heaven, you’re paradise.” Firm hands cupped her ass and yanked her tightly against him, grounding her against his erection, rocking her hips.
“This is,” she moaned when his teeth nipped her earlobe, “blasphemy,” she teased in a hoarse voice. Her fingers tangled in his silky hair and she drank greedily from his mouth, stealing his breath away.
Her hand stroked his soft hair. She leveled herself on his steel-like shoulder.
“No. It’s not.” His right hand snaked under her Emilio Pucci tank top. “It’s gospel.”
His deft left hand popped open the button of her leather pants and pulled down the zipper, touching her smooth, flat stomach. “Sophia.”
She made a low, long, gasping sound and he smiled, devilishly.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, moving his mouth over her jaw to capture her mouth again in a hard kiss, coaching the responses he wanted from her.
Sophia lost herself in so many sensations. They started to move together, lust taking control. She felt his erection harden even more.
His fingers touched her lace and satin panties and he growled low in her mouth, the sound a rumble in his chest.
Sophia startled and broke the kiss, gasping. Disengaging from the embrace, she stepped away unsteadily, breathing heavy and adjusting her clothes back into place.
Alistair rose and stood behind her, his arms hugging her waist, bringing her to lean on him. She could feel his raging erection on her back. Her head fell to the side nestling between his chest and arm.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He rested his face on her cheek. “I told you we’re alone.”
“That’s not it. I’m not that kind of woman. I don’t make out in public or…” She shook her head as she remembered Tavish’s and Alice’s earlier words. “You’re mistaking me for someone else.”
“I’m not mistaking you for anyone else. I just got carried away,” he said, nonplussed, turning her in his embrace to face him. “
We
got carried away.”
So, what
kind
of woman are you, Sophia?
“Come now.” He bent his head. “Don’t play coy with me,” he whispered in her ear.
“I’m not pretending,” she snapped at him shoving both hands in her hair. “I’m confused.” She bit her bottom lip hard.
“Confused about what?” He gently coached her lip from her teeth.
She shook her head, mute.
“Sophia, talk to me.” He framed her face and lifted it to scan her features. He wanted to look at her eyes but she kept them averted. “Talk to me. What are you confused about?” He stroked her lip with his thumb.
“My feelings,” she breathed. “I like you. I really do.”
But I wish I didn’t. I’m afraid you’re going to break my heart
.
“So?”
“So?” she repeated, dumbly.
I don’t want to be hurt again
.
“If you like me, why do you keep torturing me?” He lifted her face an inch more. “Look at me, Sophia,” he ordered.
Damned impossible woman
.
She slowly raised her eyelids. The intensity of emotions simmering inside her eyes startled him.
“And if I said I was afraid?”
“What are you afraid of?” he asked kindly. “Tell me and we’ll work it out together. There’s no reason to be afraid.”
“I do like you. Nonetheless, I-” she put a hand on his chest “please, don’t be angry…” he shook his head and she continued, “sometimes I think you’re more than you let me see. You’re so different from what I’m used to. You’re mercurial. As is your brother.”
Christ! What kind of powers does this woman possess?
Then a thought struck his mind, leaving him cold.
Baptist isn’t the only one in Britain that does that kind of service
. He knew of at least four or five good ones.
“You’re… stubborn and overpowering,” Sophia whispered, her breath an airy kiss against the skin of his chest exposed by his V-neck black cashmere sweater, “you have a terrible temper. You’re arrogant, with a tendency to sulk and you seek darkness. Your flaws are numerous and they are multiplying.”
He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. He growled and, squeezing her, he dipped his head and bit her shoulder, making her cry out.
“But then, you’re protective and steadfast. You’re kind and gentle. You’re intelligent and thoughtful.” Her fingers brushed his jaw softly, as if a breeze caressed him. “You make me laugh.”
“Ah, I see. And this is a remarkable accomplishment?”
“Yes, it is. You really make me laugh. I feel… happy, when I’m around you.”
“I don’t understand.” He stole a bemused glance at her. No man with any sense in his head made the mistake of thinking he understood women and Alistair never before had tried. But he wanted to understand Sophia.
But this one, this one, she utterly mystifies me
. “So why you keep pushing me away?”
“I don’t.” She shook her head, “I don’t
push you away
. It’s just that I don’t know you and I’m afraid.”
Of my own feelings
.
“Very well.” He took a ragged breath. “So, let me tell you, Sophia, you’re unpredictable and mysterious. Utterly inconstant and temperamental. Your mood is as changeable as the weather. I cannot read you, sweetheart.”
“I’m not a book,” she scowled at him.
“I know,” he chuckled. “Believe me, I do. You’re a ravishing woman, Sophia. An intriguing, fascinating, and stunning woman. A challenge. And I’ve always liked a challenge.”
“I’m no challenge, either,” she snapped.
He chuckled low in his chest. The sound was downright male. “Yes, you are. You know,” he breathed against her lips, his deep voice vibrating inside his chest, “it’s never been like this for me.”
What is he talking about? The need, the lust?
Cupping his jaw in her soft, long hands, she asked. “What? What has never been like this?”
“A woman. This need, this desire, this yearning. It’s so strong, so uncontrollable, and so savage that it hurts.” His green eyes blistered her, “No one else will do. I crave you. Every minute, every second. Not only your body. It’s you. Only you. All of you. Please, say yes.”
His grip on her hips was so virile, so encompassing, so hot, that it emboldened her and she initiated a deep kiss. He responded as an eager, ardent, and wild partner. She found herself trapped between two muscular thighs with a hand on her butt pressing her firmly toward his erection.
Sophia felt a power rush through her body when Alistair’s hand gripped her shirt raising it over her breasts. She knew she should stop him. The maze was no place for this. But she couldn’t.
This power she had over him: intoxicating, terrifying, and glorious.
Instead of stopping him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her breasts toward the scorching heat of his chest. She rubbed against him to quench a wild thirst she had never acknowledged before. She felt caught in the middle of a storm she couldn’t control.
Alistair’s deep groan transmitted the longing he felt. Longing for her body, longing for her soul.
I want her as I’ve never wanted anyone. God forgive me for promises unkept, but she’s gotten under my skin
. His hands clenched and unclenched on her Pucci tank top.
“Is that a yes?” His voice, now hoarse from the exhilarating feeling of possessiveness coursing through his veins. She was kissing and licking him, wanting to explore every inch of his body.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph
. He inhaled sharply as her hands wandered under his sweater, her fingers outlining his sculpted abs, lowering to the seam of his jeans.
Yes, please
.
Her lips and tongue tasted the line of his jaw, fascinated and drugged by her power to undo this intense man. She inhaled his sweet, male scent, letting it fill her lungs. “No. This is a no. For now.”
Alistair froze and lifted his head to glare at her. “You’re playing with fire, Sophia.” His hands clenched behind her back, his arms narrowing his embrace around her lean and beautiful body, pulling her flush to his hard frame. He warned, “You’re going to get burned.”
She bit his neck and smirked at him, “So are you, Alistair Connor, so are you.”
Scotland, Glasgow Airport.
Monday, March 8
th
, 2010.
8 a.m.
“Until Thursday.” Alistair’s hair glittered a bluish-black in the frigid morning sunlight as he held her face in the warmth of his hands, drowning her in his emerald green eyes.
Sophia suddenly regretted not having stayed with him in his room at Craigdale Castle, as the thought of not seeing him for four days hit her hard. She wound her arms around his waist not wanting to let go.
Alistair watched in pleased disbelief as Sophia almost curled into his chest, her cheek resting on him, her arms hugging him under the jacket of his black three-piece suit as if she wished to stay. She felt so small, fragile, and feminine against him. He gently stroked her back with his left hand as he held her jaw with the right, lifting it to look at her.
“Hey,” he murmured, “what is it?” He placed his arm around her, wreathed loosely around her waist.
He wanted her physically, and he’d never pretended otherwise. However, he’d just entered in contact with a visceral reaction, an overwhelming tenderness that filled his chest.
She stood on her tiptoes and murmured in his ear, “I’ll miss you, Alistair Connor.” Gently, she brushed his hair behind his ear, tracing its contour, “More than you could ever imagine.”
Alistair felt an unfamiliar itch to do something stupid. To ignore what was right or wrong and whisk her away to a desert island until all this maddening lust and the insane unnamed emotion he felt for her slackened. Faded.
He gave himself a brisk mental shake. “I’ll miss you, too.” He kissed her ardently and hard, leaving her breathless. “Now, go! I have a meeting in thirty minutes and you have to go to London. Kiss my Fairy for me. Tell her she’s the most beautiful Sleeping Beauty of all.”
“I will,” she brushed her lips over his and left his arms. “Good-bye,” she whispered.
She stepped away, head down, feeling lonely and despondent.
Suddenly his arms shot forward and he hauled her, airborne, back into his arms, face to face with him. “Sophia, Sophia,” he breathed on her lips before smashing them with a scorching kiss, branding her, tattooing her. With his smell, his mouth, his hands and his body. Marking her as his.
She threw her arms around his neck and entangled her hands into his glorious hair, returning the kiss with all her might.
He broke the kiss and put her on her feet again. “Only four days. Not even,” he murmured. “Three and a half days.”
“I know,” his jacket muffled her voice, “it’s just… It seems a long time. I miss you already.”
He kissed the top of her head and hugged her fiercely, before pushing her tenderly off him. “Go. We can’t hold air traffic.”
He stood there, careless of the frigid wind blowing his long hair. He watched Sophia walk to his plane, turn, wave, and disappear inside it. When the door closed, an unrecognizable sensation spread and consumed his chest, leaving him dazzled by the powerful intensity of it.
He shook his head and thinned his lips.
Come now, Alistair Connor. This is just a passing infatuation. Once you have her, it’ll disappear
.
Turning his back to the aircraft, he resolutely marched to the marine BMW 760Li, entering it without looking back.
Atwood House.
Tuesday, March 9
th
, 2010.
9.30 p.m.
Sophia emerged from the bathroom toweling her wet hair. She flung herself on the bed and picked up her iPhone.
Oh, my! The man is freaking out. Eight WhatsApp messages and three calls. All unanswered
.
She quickly scanned the messages Alistair had sent over the last three hours and texted back.
09:31. Sophia: Sorry, I was with G.
09:32. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: It’s too late for her to go to sleep.
09:32. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: I wanted to talk to you. I just entered a meeting.
09:32. Sophia: She slept 1.5 hours ago. I ate something and just got out of the shower.