I need a clean slate. I have to right my wrongs, before finding someone new. He called Scott.

  “Mr. Ashford?”

  “Scott, could you please text me Barbara’s address?”

  The red Ferrari lost itself in London’s chaotic traffic.

  Kingston-upon-Thames

  Barbara’s Mother’s House

  7:03 p.m.

  Barbara’s heart nearly stopped as she heard the deep rumble of the potent motor and from the kitchen window she saw Ethan’s Ferrari park outside her mother’s house. She grabbed onto the edge of the sink and forced herself to take a deep breath.

  She tried to remember the technique her theater teacher had taught her to relax before entering the stage.

  “Take a deep breath,” she muttered, as she filled her lungs and tried to exhale slowly, only to have it leave her in a rush. “Count to five. One…”

  By the window, she could see the man who had been her employer, her lover, and who was her true love, closing the door of his car.

  He was the epitome of male beauty, taste, and elegance, wearing a tailored dark-gray suit, starched white shirt and a vivid-red tie. His sun-touched brown hair was combed back, showing his high forehead, his gorgeous azure eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and full mouth. His measured strides highlighted the graceful balance of his solid body.

  She remembered she was supposed to be counting, not admiring Ethan. “Two.”

  She looked at her reflection in the mirror as she walked to open the door. Hurriedly, she combed her hair with her fingers and pinched her pale cheeks for a bit of color. “Three.”

  The bell sounded.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  Ethan surveyed the homely white-washed house with potted flowers on the window sills and thought he could have been happy in a place like this if his grandfather hadn’t meddled so much in his life. He opened the white gate and the pebbles that paved the short way to the door rasped pleasantly under the leather soles of his Zegna shoes.

  He smiled at the real bell that hung outside on the porch; it was a nice touch. He swung the cord and a melodic metal sound announced his arrival.

  “Hello, Ethan,” Barbara said hoarsely, his male scent surrounded her. “What a surprise.”

  He looked her over, stunned that he could have thought she could be a replacement for Sophia.

  They had a remarkable resemblance, yes, but the slight differences now that she was dressed homely, without make-up, and had reverted to her full self, were even more highlighted. That didn’t make her less beautiful though.

  “Could I come in?”

  She swung the door inward, motioning with her hand. “Yes, yes, of course. Can I offer you something? Scotch? Or maybe some fresh juice?”

  “Water, please. I’ve been driving for a long time,” he said distractedly, taking in the old, cozy sofas and armchairs, and the cat sleeping in a basket in a corner. He followed her to the kitchen. Nothing was new or expensive, but everything was kept neat and clean. “You have a comfortable home, Barbara. It’s warm.” It makes me feel…welcome. “Is your mother home?”

  “No. She’s at the neighbor’s, chatting about grandchildren.” There was a joyful twinkle to her voice when she spoke about her mother.

  He made a noncommittal sound. “Oh, well. I would have liked to meet her.”

  “I think she’d like that, too.” She closed the refrigerator and smiled at him, handing him the glass of water without showing the trembling that had gripped her body. “Do you want to sit?” She motioned to the small table in the middle of the kitchen. When he shook his head, she rested against the sink to avoid melting in a puddle at his feet. Her body was aroused, but that was nothing new. She was always aroused by him.

  They stood quietly, facing each other a few feet apart before she asked, “So, what brings you here?”

  “I wanted to apologize,” he answered, and sipped the water. I’m cleaning my slate. “To see if you need something. That day…you didn’t look well. I know it was all a big mistake, but—”

  “Ethan, please. Don’t make this harder than it already is.” She didn’t expect him to say it so clearly. She fought back the tears stinging her eyes. “You made me fall in love with you.”

  Why am I the one who is always at fault? He shook his head slowly. “Barbara, you know that’s not true. I wasn’t even sure that you could love who I was. That man—Our relationship was pitiable, to say the least. That’s why I’m here. To ask for your forgiveness. To see if I can make it—”

  “This conversation shouldn’t happen, Ethan,” Barbara interrupted, feeling his rejection cut her deep. Once more, fiercely, she wished she’d never known him. She wished he’d never existed. “You don’t need to ask for my forgiveness. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  No? He laughed mockingly. “No?”

  “No. I knew the rules. You more than fulfilled your part of the agreement.” Her heart squeezed as she thought of the months they had been together, and seeing him again only made it worse. “You gave me pleasure, you treated me well, you even gave me more than any man would have given his paid whore. Period.”

  “Barbara, I never saw you as a whore. What you did for your mother, it was commendable. Can I help in any other way?”

  She wished he would just go away and never return. She looked down to the ground before whispering, “I don’t want your money. It’s not ungratefulness. I’m sorry for that day, I shouldn’t have gone to your hotel. I thank you for all you have given me and my mother, but I’m not for sale. Not anymore. You want to help me? Accept me back. Touch me as you did so many times. Ask me to live with you. Love me. Heal my broken-heart with your love. Because I, I love you.”

  When she looked back at him, it was a real expression of misery that crossed her features when a mixed feeling of anger and hurt made her wish again he were dead.

  It tore at him to see it. His gaze roamed over her beautiful face, studying her intently. This is going to get you nowhere, Ashford. Don’t humiliate her, or yourself. Put some money in her account. Send a delicate clip as a memento. Leave something for her in your will. She deserves that for what she had given to you. Not as a payment, but as gratitude. “Well, then. I’m sorry I’ve come to disturb your peace. It was not my intention.”

  Barbara’s breath caught. She didn’t understand what he wanted from her.

  Goodbye, Barbara. He straightened, put the glass on the table, and approached her. Ethan hesitated before lifting his hand to stroke her hair. He pushed a lock behind her ear. The length was soft beneath his fingers. “I’m really sorry, Barbara. You’re a gentle, beautiful woman. I wish you find a good man to take care of you and your mother.”

  When he turned for the door, her voice hitched, “Please. I can’t lose you a second time.”

  He paused with one hand on the doorknob. “You don’t understand, do you, Barbara? You never had me. No one ever had…” but for Sophia. And I made her throw me away.

  He passed the doorway and she rushed to the door to see him leaving her.

  Barbara felt the burning, gut-wrenching ache of being rejected by the man she loved, and even more so, she felt an enormous guilt for him being so nice to her after all she was planning to do behind his back. “I wish I had never met you, Ethan. You’re a cold bastard. I wish you were dead so I didn’t have to wish you back, to love you so desperately, no one else calls my attention.”

  Although she had whispered the words, the hurt in her voice was such that it reached him as he opened his Ferrari’s door. I’m sorry, Barbara, but I would not leave you without meaning. Perhaps, if we had met under other circumstances, I might have loved you. He thought of returning, of proposing to start again, but their relationship would always be tainted with how it started and he was aware that in that moment of his life, he couldn’t give her what she wanted.

  He entered his car without giving her a second look; it would only make things worse, for her and for him.

  He had apologized; he did what he
was supposed to do. At least, for now.

  She watched silently as his red Ferrari disappeared into the night before closing the door and climbing up to her room. “Fuck you, Ethan Ashford, fuck you. I wish you dead.”

  Hours later when she lay in bed awake, smelling his faint scent in her hair, his image danced in front of her teary eyes yet.

  Atwood House

  7:38 p.m.

  Coming out of the shower with a towel around his lean hips and drying his hair with another, Alistair didn’t notice Sophia perched on the sink.

  “Lord Sexiness,” she breathed, enthralled by her husband’s defined body.

  After drying his hair, he threw the towel in the hamper and combed his hair with his fingers. “Hello there, Beauty. Is Gabriela already asleep?” She nodded as he wedged his body between her legs and kissed her. “How are you feeling?”

  She made a face at him. “I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Sophia. I mean it,” Alistair’s stern tone told Sophia she wouldn’t get away with that answer.

  She rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’m fine. Alistair Connor, stop that.” She interrupted him when he opened his mouth to voice his concern, “John just called. He said I should be taking Zofran and Phenergan daily this month until my next appointment. If something happens in the meantime, I can call him or go there.”

  “Our next appointment. We call. We go. I’ll be always by your side.” He corrected her as he put on his black boxers. “You—” want me.

  Unconsciously, Sophia was ogling him and had licked her lips lustfully. She slowly untied her dress, shrugging it off on the sink. “I’ve missed you.” Love me.

  I did too. He hefted her up in his arms and kissed her deeply. The exploration was tender and gentle as he walked them to their bedroom.

  How she ended up sitting on his arousal while he lay on his back on their bed, she didn’t know.

  She looked at him confused. “What am I doing on top?”

  “Ride me,” he told her. “This way I won’t hurt the baby.”

  “You won’t hurt the baby. Not even doggy style.” Amusement sparkled in her eyes and she leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Not even if you fuck me roughly with your big, hard dick.”

  In a second, she was flat on her back with her arms above her head, held firmly in place by his hand. He lay down over her, bracing his weight on one forearm and his knees. “You want to play?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Just be careful with my nipples.”

  He glanced down. Sophia’s breasts were fuller and she was only wearing pink and purple, lacy, low-cut boy shorts.

  “You’re simply exquisite, Sophia.” He let go of her wrists. His hand slowly opened while she watched him place it on her stomach and close his eyes for a brief moment and then fixed her with a passionate glare.

  Her heart pounded with all the lust and love that sparkled between them.

  He slid his hand higher over her rib cage and paused when it was cupping her breast and kneading it gently. “Does that hurt?”

  “No,” she breathed.

  He slid his thumb higher, lightly rubbing it around the nipple. It instantly responded by puckering and she gasped. He glanced up.

  The tingle of anticipation lowered to her sex and spread when he got out of bed, shoved his boxers down, and then pulled her panties off.

  He knelt between her legs, lowering his head to lick the path his hand had traced, his hand caressing the other breast. “How about that?”

  “They feel heavy.”

  “Heavy? How?” he whispered, her velvety skin sliding under his hand, the simple touch fanning the flames inside him.

  “In a good way,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”

  A deep groan rumbled from Alistair as he took her nipple in his mouth and tongued it without sucking, then the other.

  Shocking waves of lightning blasted through her veins and a throbbing arousal pulled at Sophia. Boldly, she put his hand between her thighs, guiding him to where she needed.

  He fondled her small patch of curls and leisurely lowered his hand. A finger pressed into her unhurriedly, as his thumb softly circled over her clit.

  A gasping cry left her mouth, “Alistair Connor.”

  He raised his head to stare into her yellow-diamond eyes. His glittering forest-green eyes were full of wonder and triumph. He muttered, almost tortured, “That feels amazing. It’s as if…I am discovering you all over again.”

  She licked her lips and wound her legs around him, her feet exploring his buttocks. “Leave the discovery for another day. Fill me.”

  His big, muscular body settled down on her more firmly and there was no missing his stiff erection pressing against her.

  Her scent wafted around him, sweet and soft. She was so beautiful, with her long raven hair framing her face. He was so aroused it was painful; he needed to be inside her, and yet, he didn’t push in, afraid of hurting her. “Comfortable?”

  She gripped his still wet hair in her hands and pulled him down, while her feet pressed on his buttocks. “I don’t want comfortable.”

  Alistair let out a strained laugh, held his weight on his forearms, flattening their upper torsos to avoid rasping his chest on her sensible nipples.

  Just the heat from her body was enough to make him forget his own name. Ignoring everything but her and the way she made him feel, he took her mouth in a kiss, thrusting in her slowly, with round moves of his hips, until they were just one, joined from mouths to sexes and shoulders to hips, just as they were from hearts to souls.

  Her soft cries of pleasure echoed somewhere deep inside him, kindling even more the flames building in his loins. He wrapped his arms around her firmly in response. “Sophia, I can’t last.”

  “So, don’t.” Her lips crushed over his, hot and greedy.

  Thoughts slithered out of his grasp and instinct took over. He pumped faster, feeling the tension winding tighter in her body. Sensations shot a hot rush of desire straight to his groin.

  Their stares locked, glinting with passion and love.

  His quicker thrusts were met by hers. When he felt her pulsating around him, he joined her in the freedom of release. They dived together, hand-in-hand, in a blazing inferno of passion.

  Saturday, March 26, 2011

  9:00 a.m.

  “Nae.” Alistair crossed his arms over his chest and repeated his last sentence, “I’m not going to leave you in this condition. I’ve called Tavish Uilleam and told him to handle the conference and the lunch by himself. I’ll call Malcolm and—”

  “Alistair Connor. I’m not in any condition. I just fainted for a brief second because I got up too fast.” She looked up at him towering over her. “Come on, Handsome. Everyone will be waiting for you. They don’t want only Tavish Uilleam; they want you both. You know that the launching of such an aggressive art fund depends on convincing the investors. Nobody does it better than you.”

  “Sophia.” He sat beside her, taking her hand in his, and felt uneasiness wedging its way into his veins. “I’ve learned that everyone, except our loved ones, are replaceable. I’m replaceable at this meeting. You’re irreplaceable to me and you need me at your side.”

  “Oh, Alistair Connor. You say such beautiful words, but really, my love, I’m okay. You drop Gabriela and Maria off at Alice’s for me. Devon will stay here.”

  “Maria stays with you too then. Gabriela is no trouble at all. She’ll just play with Ariadne the whole day and Alice loves her.”

  I know but I can’t impose. Gabriela is my—our daughter. “You are an impossible, stu—”

  “Stubborn husband,” he finished for her. You are even more stubborn, Wife. “Aye, I am. And that’s sine qua non.”

  Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward. “All right then. Why don’t you help me downstairs to the TV room? I’ll be enjoying a good book and polishing my essay until you come back.”

  He hesitated.

  Sophia used the moment to convince him. “Text me every hour. I’ll a
nswer if I’m not taking a nap. Just don’t call me after my lunch time. You know how sleepy I get.”

  He smiled, endeared. They had been snuggling together after lunch during the weekends as Sophia slept soundly for a couple of hours. “Deliciously sleepy.”

  “We can take a rain check on snuggling tonight.” She smiled at him, feeling better, and slowly pushed herself up to lean on the headboard. “I’ll let you pamper me as much as you wish.”

  “All right.” He sighed, convinced by the pink color returning to her cheeks. Picking up the phone on her bedside table, he called Tavish, saying he would be at the gallery in five minutes.

  The Blue Dot, On the Exposition Floor

  12:00 p.m.

  Alistair excused himself for a moment and went to the office to text Sophia.

  Alistair. 12:04 p.m. - How are you feeling?

  Beauty. 12:04 p.m. - Very well. ☺︎ In the middle of my book. Lunch in 1 hour and a good nap. After, my thesis.

  Alistair. 12:05 p.m. - Great, mo chridhe. Say hello to our little warrior.

  Her next text took a while to appear on his screen. He would have loved to be there to see her reaction.

  Beauty. 12:07 p.m. - I will. I love you.

  Alistair grinned. There were the three words that he would never tire of hearing.

  Alistair. 12:08 p.m. - I love you more. ☺

  Beauty. 12:08 p.m. - Let’s agree to disagree. I’m pregnant and cannot be gainsaid.

  Alistair. 12:09 p.m. - As you wish, milady. Call you later. ☺

  Placing his iPhone in his pocket, he returned to the meeting with a lighter step.

  Atwood House

  In the downstairs TV Room

  2:00 p.m.

  A low buzz woke Sophia up from a nice dream. She stretched lazily.

  It was her iPhone vibrating. Her hand searched for it. Alistair had sent a message a minute ago. She replied with a tender curl on her lips.