Entwined Fates

“Sophia! Slow down!” Alistair grabbed the door handle when she exited a sharp curve at eighty miles per hour.

  Her laugh rang in the car. “Scared?” she asked, without taking her eyes from the road and pressed down on the accelerator. In a second, the needle jumped to a hundred and sixty-five miles per hour.

  The powerful motor roared and they were pressed against the plush leather seats. “Jesus Christ!”

  “Chicken!” Just before she entered another curve, she slowed down a bit, but still took the turn at a hundred and ten miles per hour. She slowed down to enjoy the drive and glanced at Alistair, rigid on the seat with his face drawn taut. “You asked for it. I told you I was a good driver.”

  “Are you trying to kill us both?” His voice was dry.

  “No, of course not.” She chuckled. “I’ve always driven well, and last year I took a special defensive driving course offered by a former policeman in São Paulo.”

  “And you call this defensive?” He started to relax in the seat. “I would say it’s aggressive driving.”

  “Handsome.” She smiled, amazed at his behavior. “It’s defensive driving against kidnapping or such. It’s all about speed, being in control of minute movements and having complete knowledge of what the car can do.”

  “Indeed.” He exhaled loudly, still mad at her. “You do drive quite well.” I have to concede.

  “Thanks. I’m used to this beauty.” She caressed the steering wheel and checked the route on her GPS. “We’ll get there in about fifteen minutes, I guess.”

  “Sophia, this car is more of a beast than a beauty.” He snorted. “Like your horses.”

  “Well, then. They’re beautiful, gorgeous beasts. I do love powerful things.” She smirked at him with a malicious gleam in her eyes, measuring him. “They make interesting toys.”

  He fell into an astonished silence. How dare she? “Toys,” he repeated slowly, experiencing the word on his tongue, “Toys.” Sophia, I’m not a man to trifle with. Her explicit bantering and debasement of him surprised and aroused him. Leaning over, an evil look on his face, he whispered in her ear, “One day, I’m going to introduce you to some of my toys.”

  She smiled naïvely at him, unaware of his dark thoughts. “I think I’d like that.”

  “Don’t be so certain, Sophia,” he murmured.

  Why? She glanced at him, a wary look coming over her face. “What do you mean?”

  He didn’t answer and changed the subject, “I want you to promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me.”

  “No,” she answered firmly. Enough with the unknown promises. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Please, state your case.” The small joke didn’t lessen her refusal.

  “Promise me that you won’t go driving again, like a lunatic, without warning me.”

  “No.”

  “Nae?” Alistair saw red. “Did you just say nae?”

  “I just said no,” she confirmed, and repeated, “no.”

  He raked his left hand through his long hair. “Sophia, you don’t want to defy me.”

  “Oh? I don’t?” She blinked. “But it’s not a question of defying you. No, not at all. It’s more a question of you ordering me around. I don’t respond well to being ordered or bullied. I’ve told you so.”

  “Then we will have to work on that,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “I don’t think so.” She mashed the accelerator, the needle jumping up again. “I hate being ordered around. Try to ask gently, for a change. I might, let me repeat, I might think about your request. Got it?”

  Where did I find this insane woman? Why have I involved myself with her? Fuck. How am I going to deal with her?

  “Got. It?” Sophia asked again, peering at his expression.

  “Aye.” He clipped his answer; his accent strong, “I. Got. It.” He stared at the sinking sun, struck by the violent searing colors across the sky. The dark blue sky slashed with fierce reds and oranges, mirroring his own crazed feelings.

  In the last few years, Alistair had been all about control. If she destroyed his control, she would destroy him. She stirred his emotions to a startling degree, a treacherous height. Since Heather, no woman has ever made me…need. Face it, Alistair Connor. She makes you want more than a quick fuck. That’s why you have been putting up with all her whims.

  Sophia drove in silence for a few minutes, pondering his entreaty, stealing a quick glance at him.

  His hands were clenched in fists, resting on his thighs. He brooded, looking straight ahead, his eyes half-closed and fine lines creasing the sides of his eyes.

  “Alistair…” She glanced again at his rugged profile illuminated by the beautiful sunset.

  “Aye?” He turned his head slowly to study her face.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

  “So, you are promising me no’ to do it?”

  “No, I’m not. This is something I very much like to do and I don’t like having to explain what I do or don’t do,” she answered. “In fact, I’d say it’s vital to have some freedom. And as you see, I drive quite well.”

  “I’ll worry.” His voice had lost its dry tone and anxiety had taken its place.

  “I understand.” She mused, “Nonetheless, risk is a part of life.”

  “A part of it I don’t like. I’ve had enough of losing control. And I’ve seen where taking risks like these lead.” He shifted on the seat to better look at her and his right hand squeezed her left thigh. “Death.”

  Oh, God, Alistair. I didn’t even think of that. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to die soon.”

  His lips twitched. “That’s very reassuring.”

  “And I promise I’ll be careful, okay?” Sophia added as she parked the car at the main entrance of the charming hotel.

  He nodded, silently.

  “Mademoiselle, welcome to The Waterside Inn.” The valet lifted the McLaren door.

  Sophia thanked him and opened the trunk for him to retrieve her bag, but Alistair was already there and took both his and hers in one hand.

  He stretched out his free hand to her, an olive-branch offering, which she didn’t refuse.

  It’s really cozy. Sophia breathed in the chilly night air as they walked to Ryepeck Cottage, one of a few that were dotted around the restaurant. The Waterside Inn was more personal than an average hotel.

  “We don’t offer room service, but there’s a guest kitchen at the end of the corridor where you’ll find a Nespresso coffee machine and a variety of teas. And of course, a continental breakfast is served in the morning in your room or in the private garden. Just call us whenever you are ready,” the staff member explained proudly. He led them down the corridor to their suite, where he opened the door and held it for them.

  Located on the first floor, La Rivière, the suite Alistair had chosen, had a comfortable sitting room next to the bedroom, with a king-sized bed, and a bathroom with a combined tub and shower, enormous fluffy white towels, and many L’Occitane toiletries.

  Sophia emerged from the bathroom and looked at the luxurious rooms all done in red-and-gold silks and damasks. She kicked off her leather loafers and threw herself on the bed, stretching.

  “These seem very comfortable,” he said, pointing to her shoes.

  “I have a hard time finding shoes my size, so every time I go to Buenos Aires, I buy three or four pairs. They have incredible shoes for men too.”

  He made a face. “Probably not in my size. I wear thirteen and a half, UK size. I’ve always had problems with clothes and shoes.”

  “Rochester Big & Tall, then?” She chuckled. “Or bribe every salesman in England to hold the only available pair of shoes in your size, and shirts and cardigans with the longest sleeves, and the longest jeans.”

  He laughed. “Aye, how did you guess?”

  “Although Gabriel is not as tall as you, he has—” She choked at her slip. Unnerved, she jumped from the bed and strolled barefoot ou
t to the private garden, which ran to the edge of the River Thames.

  She sat on a bench, tucking her feet under her legs, and missing the enchanting view of the river as she blinked away her tears.

  Fuck you, Gabriel. Fuck you. Alistair grabbed the coat she had neatly hanged in the closet and walked to her side, putting it over her shoulders.

  “Tomorrow we’re going to have breakfast by the river,” he said, sitting by her side, pointing to a table strategically set under an old majestic tree to his right. “It’s lovely here.”

  “Do you often think about your daughter?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Every day,” he murmured in her hair, his arms encompassing her and bringing her to his lap. “Every single day.”

  They remained quiet for some minutes, each one immersed in their own thoughts, the sound of the water lapping at the sand, soothing their scarred souls.

  “When did she die?” Alistair’s neck muffled Sophia’s voice.

  “Last year, on January thirtieth. When they lowered her little coffin to the earth, I almost flung myself into that fucking hole.” He shuddered and lifted her chin to make her look at him. “I made a promise to her that day that I would never, ever let a woman in my life.” He lowered his head to kiss her gently and whispered on her lips, “May she forgive me.”

  Chapter 36

  “Everything I hoped and expected,” Alistair said, putting a hand on his flat stomach. “The Roux family is blessed.”

  They were seated at the rear of the restaurant. The tables were more intimate, and they could enjoy the ebb and flow of the River Thames reflected in the mirrored panels above their heads.

  “If only every day were like this.” She sighed, contentedly, enjoying the elegant environment.

  “This is just the beginning, Sophia. Our days together will be memorable.” He leaned in to kiss her leisurely on the lips. “Now, the best part of dinner…dessert.”

  “I didn’t know you liked it so much,” she said.

  He grinned broadly. “Oh, I do like dessert. But, sweetheart…” He brushed his thumb over her lips as he explained, “what fascinates me is the way you make love to the dammed thing. To say it drives me crazy doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

  She laughed. “Next time I’ll order dessert as an entrée, main course, and dessert.”

  “Then I’ll have to have you on the table, in the middle of our dinner.” His beautiful eyes flashed devilishly.

  She thinned her lips, trying to contain her laughter, but it bubbled up anyway. “Alistair Connor! You have the strangest ideas.”

  “I love it when you call me Alistair Connor.”

  “Alistair Connor,” she said, raspily. “It’s a beautiful name. As strong as its owner. What does your name mean?”

  “I have no idea.” He shrugged. “And yours?”

  “Sophia is Greek for wisdom.” She grabbed her iPhone from her purse. “Let’s see what yours means.” She whistled low as the answer appeared on the screen and looked at him. “That’s what I call powerful. Alistair means the savior of mankind.”

  I’m no savior, Sophia. Nothing else could be less apt.

  She typed in his second name and scanned the information. “Connor. Also Gaelic, like Alistair.” Her lips curled up and she gazed at him with teasing eyes. “Sure you want to know?”

  He nodded, smiling.

  “Lover of hounds. And I thought you were fond of women.” She giggled.

  “Still in doubt about that, Sophia?” Alistair raised his brows at her taunting. “Seems to me that I’ll have to strive to prove it to you.”

  “Seems so, Alistair Connor.” Her smile broadened and a mischievous look appeared in her eyes.

  Alistair jumped in his seat when her hand clamped down on his crotch. He hissed in a breath, “Christ, Sophia.”

  She shifted on her chair and blinked innocently at him. “What?”

  “Don’t play with fire.” He leaned toward her, his hand diving under the table to press hers down onto him. “If you don’t want to get burned.”

  She batted her long, dark lashes at him while brushing her fingers over his growing erection. “Alistair Connor, I’m just testing a theory.”

  “Very funny,” he huffed. Then a slow rakish grin spread across his lips. “Please, feel free to test it then. Right here, right now.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Are you coaxing me, Alistair Connor?”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he challenged.

  “Oh…” The mix of the potential danger and strong lust turning her blood to lava. She smiled as she bent in his direction, her hand still fondling him, and murmured in his ear, “Oh. Wouldn’t I? Wanna bet?”

  “Aye,” he answered, “a thousand pounds.”

  “I don’t gamble with money. Let’s say…” She paused, thinking.

  He leaned over and proposed, “Your ass.”

  Her hand stopped moving. “What?”

  “Your ass,” he repeated, his breath fanning her earlobe before he licked and nibbled it. “If I win, I’ll fuck your ass tonight.”

  She leaned away from his caresses, blinking and biting her lip, too astonished to speak.

  “You’ve never done it,” he said. The information simultaneously surprised him and made him happy.

  “No, I’ve never done it,” she murmured, shaking her head slowly.

  “And?” His blood ran hot with expectation and desire. He lifted his hand to tuck a strand behind her ear, letting his fingers brush her face and neck.

  “And?” she parroted, trembling with uncertainty.

  “Do you feel like trying?”

  “I don’t know.” She withdrew her hand and put it demurely on the arm of the chair, looking down at her lap. “Not yet.”

  Don’t push your luck, Alistair Connor. He held her hand gently and his thumb caressed her knuckles. “Let’s take a rain check, Beauty. There’s no need to be frightened, it’s quite pleasurable.” He kissed her inner wrist and signaled to the waiter. “Shall we order dessert?”

  “I know what I want.” She waved her menu away. “Alain’s selection of six mouthwatering desserts.”

  “Mademoiselle, it takes up to twenty minutes to prepare this dish,” the waiter informed her.

  Sophia looked up at Alistair.

  He answered, “We have time.”

  “Let’s share it,” she suggested as he studied the menu.

  “All right.” He closed the menu and handed it back to the waiter who thanked them and left, after replenishing their glasses with wine.

  “Can I ask something personal?” she started tentatively.

  “Aye,” he answered.

  She drank a gulp of wine and cocked her head, studying him, still unsure how to broach the subject.

  “Come on, Sophia, don’t be shy,” he coached.

  “All right, here it goes,” she inhaled deeply. “Someone, umm—showed me some photos of you with—lots of different women. I mean, I’ve seen—”

  “I don’t keep tabs, but I’ve had more than three women, perhaps around three hundred,” he smirked. “But no one as—”

  “You’re lying!” she interrupted him. When he shook his head, her eyes widened. “Dear God! So, I’m bound to bump into one of your exes.”

  “They were mere encounters to abate lust, not my exes, or whatever you want to call them. I always made that crystal clear from the get-go. And some are not from our circle.”

  Unsettled, Sophia chewed her lips as she studied his inscrutable face. “What do you mean by some are not from our circle?”

  He sighed. “Some were professionals.”

  “You mean, you mean…” She couldn’t complete the thought.

  His lips curled I a half smile at her hesitation. “Sophia, every now and then a man like me calls an escort.”

  “Like you?”

  “I have a very high-sex drive.” His face split with an amused grin, his eyes twinkling.

  “You’re laughing at me,?
?? she huffed.

  “It’s impossible not to,” he sniggered. “You’re too good to be true.”

  “So, you weren’t lying when you said that you would call an ex or an escort.” She blushed and looked down.

  “Nae. I don’t need to lie, Sophia.” He curled his fingers under her chin, lifting her face to peer into her troubled eyes.

  “Sometimes you seem so cold. All business; all logic and facts.”

  He gave her that ghost of a smile and he stared appraisingly at her, considering her remarks. “Possibly.”

  “And where…”

  “Where?”

  Sophia bit down on her lip, thinking for a second. “No dates, no one to love. Where is your heart in all this?”

  “It’s buried six feet under with Nathalie,” he answered in a dry tone. Let it be, Sophia.

  She flicked her eyes to the other tables. “And you appear to like only blondes…”

  “I have a preference for blondes.”

  She flinched and opened her mouth to speak.

  He immediately reached out and put his finger over her mouth. “As I was saying before being interrupted by your unconvinced remark about the number of my sexual partners, I’ve never had a woman like you. There’s something about you, something special that makes me want to do things I’ve never wanted before, with or for any other woman.”

  His deep voice transfixed Sophia.

  “Something has attracted me to you since that Wednesday—a cold and gray January day—when you entered the meeting room. It was like…” Christ, Alistair Connor! You’re swooning like a lovesick teenager. He stared at her face, enthralled by the bafflement imprinted there. Fuck!

  “Like?”

  Fuck my rules, fuck my promises. Fuck everything. He cupped her face in his long fingers, his thumb pressing on the center of her soft and plump lips. “It was like the sun had appeared again in my life, Sophia,” he said. “You. You changed everything when you stepped into that room. You have a freshness, a strength, an allure I’ve never seen before. The way you walk, talk, hold yourself. You’ve become the light of my life.”

  His words made Sophia speechless. How can he say these things after saying he has no heart? His beautiful words reminded her of Gabriel’s a long time ago and she shivered. Too soon, too soon.