Even when Ethan demanded her company to sleepover on weekends, she always made certain she stayed with Gabriela either in the mornings or in the evenings, except for when they had gone to Venice for two long days.

  The breeze toyed with her long raven hair, and she remained stuck to the setting sun and the tightness in her heart.

  Alistair paused at the threshold of the smaller bedroom where she couldn’t see him. For a long moment, he studied a statuesque Sophia on the edge of the wooden deck. The sky’s colors framing her enhanced the magical and sexy aura that the flimsy, loose clothes had created.

  There’s a disconcerting intensity to her. Sometimes she seems too good to last; too good to be true. To be mine. Like an angel who is about to go back to Heaven. He shook his head at the thought as he moved to join Sophia, his arms enveloping her. He bent his head to kiss her cheek.

  “Why, hello there,” she murmured, turning in his arms to kiss him open-mouthed, running her fingers in his still wet hair.

  I love you so much, Sophia. He stood facing her, his feelings showing in his eyes.

  “This is perfect, meu amor.” She circled his waist and leaned on his chest, sighing happily. “The perfect end to a perfect honeymoon. Like the hotel name, it’s a waking dream.”

  A grin appeared on his face and he tsked, shaking his head. “This is neither a dream, nor is it the end. This is just the beginning of our lives. I’m going to show you every single day, how dreamy reality can be.”

  “I can’t wait,” she whispered as she squeezed him in her arms. The steady beat of his heart calmed her.

  Maybe this is a dream. He put his chin on her head and watched as the night chased away the light, drawing her purple spangled veil over the light blue sea. But I won’t let us wake up from it. Ever.

  “I love your scent,” she said quietly.

  “That’s good,” he mocked, sensing something different in her.

  She said nothing more, nor did she move, well ensconced by his large body and his strong arms.

  They stood there for a while, rocked by the dying sounds of the twilight.

  Alistair broke their silence to see if she would tell him what was happening. He encircled her naked waist with his large hands as he added, “You look incredibly sexy wearing that, that…hmm, what do you call that? A stylish bra? An incredibly short top?”

  “A halter top,” she murmured.

  He softly gripped her chin and lifted her face to his, brushing a stray lock of hair back from her face. “What’s wrong?”

  How can he know? “Nothing. Everything’s fine. I’m just enjoying you. The silence. This beautiful moment.”

  Sophia. You and your half-truths. He brushed his lips against hers. “You know you can tell me everything, mo chridhe. You look troubled. What is it?”

  She bit her lip, chewing it. She didn’t want to be a bore, but he was right. She was troubled.

  His thumb pulled on her bottom lip and he watched her intently. “All I ever want you to be is honest.”

  “I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea. This is all fabulous and wonderful.” Sophia paused, searching for the right words to say what she was feeling.

  “But?” Alistair’s hands squeezed her waist and came to rest on her shoulders. His next words were punctuated and there was an underlined command. “Beauty. You can say anything you want. Just say it.”

  She looked up at him under her lashes, as he intently stared down at her. The painful feeling that was trapped inside her throat lessened. After carefully assessing Alistair’s face, she whispered, “I miss Gabriela. I know she’s okay and happy with Alice and the twins, but I miss her very much. I’ve never been apart from her for so long. I feel guilty about leaving her alone for so many days.”

  He peered closer. “Do you want to go back?”

  “I—I don’t know. Maybe if I talk to her again, the…the saudades will ease.”

  “Saudade?” he asked puzzled, pronouncing the word strangely.

  She smiled softly at him. “Sao-dah-de. It’s Portuguese. It’s the feeling that grips you when you miss someone so much it makes you sick.”

  He shook his head at her, his long black hair shining under the lasting light. “I don’t want to see you sick with saodade or anything else.”

  She laughed at his pronunciation and corrected it as he grabbed her by the hand and towed her into the living room where his cell phone was, immediately dialing his sister’s home number and asking Alice to put Gabriela on the line.

  With a smile, he gave her the phone and sat on the white sofa beside her.

  As soon as Sophia heard her daughter’s voice, a lump formed in her throat, stopping her words as tears came to her eyes.

  She handed the iPhone back to Alistair, overwhelmed.

  If she talked, she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears from being heard in her voice. The memories of when they brought Gabriela to see her in the hospital after the shooting came to her with full force. She remembered how much she had clung to her hand, crying and begging to stay in the hospital.

  “Christ, Sophia,” he murmured.

  He talked with Gabriela, asking her about the fairies she had seen, what she had been doing, and letting out a hearty laugh.

  After a few minutes, the tightness in her throat loosened and she squeezed his thigh to show him that she was okay.

  He said goodbye to Gabriela and murmured to Sophia with amusement in his voice, “She is more than okay. You’ll see.”

  “Hi, Mama. Aunt Carol came to visit. You can’t imagine what we made together,” Gabriela spoke without pausing to breathe.

  The joy in her daughter’s voice melted all the icy guilt that was surrounding Sophia’s heart. She smiled at Alistair who had probably heard the same story according to the mischievous look in his eyes.

  “What, Angel?”

  “A huge cake with lots of icing!” Gabriela exclaimed, then lowered her voice to a murmur, “Ariadne and I, we had a flour war. We got all white. Just like ghosts!”

  Sophia burst out laughing and quickly covered her mouth. She could see the past repeating itself. She cleared her throat and composed herself.

  “Alice wasn’t very happy.” Gabriela told her in a worried voice how Alice had chastised Ariadne and her. “But, Mama, I never saw Aunt Carol laugh so much.”

  I can imagine. “Hmm. I hope Aunt Carolina showed you how to clean up afterwards,” she spoke, trying to hide her amusement behind a more serious tone. “It’s not proper to waste food or to make a mess when you’re cooking.”

  “We left everything clean. She even showed us how to sweep with a real broom, but I guess we didn’t do a good job, because she kept laughing the whole time.”

  “I’m sure you did a good job, Angel,” she said, stifling another laugh.

  They talked for a few more minutes before ending the call.

  Alistair could see that the happiness had returned to Sophia’s eyes. He embraced her and she put her arms around his waist, sighing.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He kissed her forehead and gripped her chin, making her look at him. “You can always tell the truth about your feelings to me, Beauty. Together, we’ll work them out. Alone, they will eat you alive and shut me out. This is not fair. To us.”

  She lowered her lashes for a second, before looking into his eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Tomorrow she’s going out with Alice and the twins to buy everything to start school. She is so excited about it—”

  His startled look interrupted her. “Gabriela is starting school?! Already?”

  “Yes,” she smiled at him. “She got into Pembridge. Can you imagine her wearing that cute red and white uniform with the straw hat?! Won’t she be adorable?”

  “But she is only four!” He was aghast.

  “Pembridge encourages girls to start school in the autumn before their fifth birthday. Besides, she will make friends with other girls and Ariadne will be going there too. They are so excited a
bout it!”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have liked to see the school too.”

  “Oh. I paid the required deposit to secure the place before I met you. It was something that…I never thought you’d like to be…” bothered with. How stupid, Sophia. He wants to participate in Gabriela’s life. He wants to be her father.

  Fuck. If you were still married to Gabriel, wouldn’t you have discussed it with him? For a second, his feelings were written on his face before his poker-faced mask covered them.

  Sophia was speechless for a moment. Say something. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to exclude you. They’ll be happy there. They’ll make friends, play, draw, paint.”

  He shook his head and a sad emotion flickered in his face. “Ariadne is almost a year older and I think she’s still young. I would have made you see the foolishness of it.”

  “But they’ll only be—”

  “They’ll be starting to live life. They will have responsibilities. Time to get up, schedules, things to do even if they don’t want to.” His voice was emphatic when he retorted. “Sophia. Let her believe in her dreams a bit more. Let Gabriela look for fairies and believe in the Narcissus legend a bit longer. Childhood is the only time in life where we can really be happy and unaware of the evil and troubles that permeate the world.”

  “That’s not exactly true, she has already suffered a lot.” Sophia’s hands dipped under his linen shirt, wandering on his broad back, giving and taking comfort. She whispered, “Alistair Connor, if I could, Gabriela would never leave the house. I’m just trying to give her a measure of normality and freedom. I am her prison and I cannot keep her from living, even though every time I’m away from her a keen fear eats at my heart.”

  As she looked back at him, he could see in her taut face that Gabriel’s kidnapping and her in-laws taking Gabriela from her were still fresh in her mind. Something inside him rebelled at the idea of Gabriela growing to be independent and Sophia taking the brunt of having to make the best choices for her daughter all alone. He knew this was part of his controlling nature, so he stifled it and just said, “I want to share everything with you, Sophia. And I want to be there for you and for her, mo chridhe. I want to help. In fact, I need to help.”

  Love shone in her eyes at his words. She reached for him, framing his face.

  Her hands felt delicate against his strong jaw and it soothed his fears.

  “Do you honestly think, after all you’ve told me, after Gabriela’s request to call you Daddy, that I’d shy away from the chance to have you at my side? And hers?”

  “Nae.” He put his forehead on hers.

  “No, I will not,” she sighed softly. “On that afternoon, I realized I didn’t need to raise Gabriela alone; that I really have someone who I can share her with; who will love her as much as I do.”

  He entangled his fingers with hers and raised her hand to kiss her inner wrist. “I’m here, but I wish she wouldn’t start school yet, at least for this semester.”

  “She was too young when Gabriel died and she doesn’t understand why she couldn’t have as many friends as she wanted. Do you remember that before I met you I hadn’t even taken her to the zoo or to Stonehenge?”

  “Because you were afraid something would happen to her?” he asked, stunned. “You are in England. You have bodyguards and armored cars.”

  “Yes. I had all this and more in Rio too, and yet, they killed Gabriel. I’ve been working hard at therapy on these feelings, this fear. Besides, Gabriela is not a normal child. She is very mature for her age and very intelligent. She doesn’t have siblings or many friends. She needs to connect and to develop other abilities. She was supposed to start school when it all happened. In Brazil, children go to school at two years old, even sooner. I chose Pembridge with care. I took her there too. She loved it.”

  Then he realized that it was not only about control. It was also about his own fear and painful loss. “Let’s compromise. If she doesn’t like it, we’ll wait another semester or a year.”

  Although his voice was steady, his gaze had darkened and a few lines of strain appeared in the corners of his eyes.

  This is also about Nathalie, isn’t it? “I promise. You will help me raise her to be a happy child and a lovely woman, won’t you?”

  He closed his eyes for a brief moment and avowed, “Aye, I will.” As if she were Nathalie.

  Ethan Ashford’s Penthouse

  7:45 p.m.

  Scott looked at his notes and confirmed with Ethan, “So, Château D’Esclimont, Junior Suite, from tomorrow till Sunday, the twenty-eighth. I’ll try to—” Scott stopped as soon as he saw Ethan’s frown.

  “I know that this is sudden, but you’ll reserve this room. Just use my name,” Ethan asserted, watching his secretary writing furiously on his notepad.

  “Are you going to Paris by plane and catching the chopper there, sir?”

  “The helicopter, you mean. Of course. At Orly airport.”

  “Yes, I meant the helicopter.” Scott mopped his forehead to stop a drop of sweat from running down its side.

  It was rare for Scott to commit that kind of slip, but for Ethan, slang was inadmissible, and proper behavior was essential. As his grandfather used to say, impressions count.

  “Good, Scott. She—” Who is she? This is a mess. He breathed deeply and shook his head. “She should be ready by nine o’clock. I know that you won’t fail me and you’ll have everything in order.”

  Scott puffed his chest. “No, sir, of course not. I always try my best. I’m very grateful—”

  Ethan raised his hand, stopping the string of thanks he was aware would follow. “Scott, with money and power come the responsibility to help others. It was my pleasure to help your family.” And win your loyalty.

  Scott didn’t insist. He knew Ethan didn’t like to be reminded of his generosity. He mused that perhaps his boss felt vulnerable being generous. On the other hand, maybe he felt so alone that his generosity was only a mask to gather people around him. He looked surreptitiously at Ethan’s face and the blank look on it informed him that, in fact, no one knew Ethan Ashford. “Is that all, sir?”

  “For now.”

  Scott quickly stepped away from Ethan’s office, almost bumping into Barbara who had just climbed the glass stairs. He murmured, “He’s quite strange tonight.”

  Barbara fixed her eyes on Scott’s face and made a point in asking, “When isn’t he?”

  Chapter 33

  Huvafen Fushi Resort & Spa, The Ocean Pavilion

  9:47 p.m.

  They had a typical Maldivian dinner under the stars, taking them away to another world.

  After dessert, two drummers and singers entered the deck, followed by an exotic couple of dancers. It was not a typical dance, but rather a special erotic treat offered by the hotel for honeymooners.

  An arousing opportunity Alistair wouldn’t miss sharing with Sophia.

  They had spent the whole day just lazing around in their private bungalow, watching the endless turquoise waters between bouts of just kissing and caressing.

  The torches lit the deck, their light playing on Sophia’s face as she observed the exotic couple languorously contort and entwine their almost naked bodies to the rhythmic, hypnotizing song.

  The artful performance in the universal erotic body language changed the dinner mood from relaxing to thrilling.

  Alistair’s attention kept returning to Sophia as his sexual tension grew, until he couldn’t bear it anymore. He bent and whispered in her ear, “I want you to dance for me when they are gone.”

  His breath, cooled by the chilled champagne they were drinking, fanned her neck and she shivered with desire. He laughed low, conscious of what he had done to her. His hand ran up and down the goose bumps that appeared on her arm.

  “I can’t dance like that. Look,” she whispered as the woman seemed to melt as she knelt in front of the man and lowered her back to the ground and the man accompanied her movements without touching her. ??
?They are exotic creatures with complete self-knowledge of their bodies and sexual power. They must have been dancing together like this for years.”

  “Sophia.” He shook his head with a grin belying the stern way he’d spoken her name. The dancers had lost all interest to him as he remembered Sophia’s dance for him in the TV room. “You can dance. You arouse me and I can come just by looking at you.”

  She gasped, thrilled with the idea.

  “There’s this other Sophia you still don’t fully know who is under your skin. She’s the wild, feline part of you, your sensual alter-ego,” he breathed, and slowly drew her earlobe into his mouth.

  “Later, Alistair Connor, later,” she murmured back to him and trapped his wandering hand in hers.

  He bit her earlobe softly. Her sharp intake of breath made him smile and he softly released it. “I’d dare say that your inner erotic creature hasn’t seen enough daylight. I’ll open your cage and teach you to let the animal take control of you.”

  The song grew in a crescendo and the dancers started to touch and sensually rub their glistening bodies against each other. Suddenly, with a loud rumple of drums, they fell to their knees and embraced. Sophia and Alistair applauded and the group bowed and left.

  Alistair stretched out his hand to Sophia while his gaze traveled down and then up her body, slowly, seductively. He was so turned on that he stopped on her luscious mouth and licked his lips. His voice was husky when he asked, “Dance for me? Please.”

  She stood up. He had transformed her from within, and she became all awareness when he was near. A secretive smile lightened her face. She hurried to the bedroom, ordering, “Wait here.”

  In front of the mirror, Sophia studied her image. There was a slight flush on her cheeks and an excited light in her eyes. She threw all her shyness to the wind as she took off her clothes and grabbed her favorite body oil.

  With a naughty smile, she whispered to herself, “I’m a free animal.”

  On the terrace, Alistair’s lips curled up as he took off his T-shirt and dimmed the lights, leaving only the torches alight. His penis twitched and hardened as a myriad of ideas crossed his mind as he relaxed back on a reclining chair. He tilted his head to the side, listening for her steps. What is she planning?