“Bring her things, Sarah, please.” Edward looked at Martha, a frown between his brows. “I think it’s better to wait for the ambulance downstairs. Too much time has passed since she fainted. I’ll carry her.”
“It’s best not to move her, Mr. Davidoff. Let’s just wait here.”
NO!” Sophia’s eyes shot open. She saw four worried faces looking down at her: Edward’s, Liang’s, Sarah’s and Martha’s.
She blinked. As she remembered where she was, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips in a thin line. Damn!
Liang perched on his haunches beside her. “Are you okay, Mrs. L?”
“Sophia? What are you feeling?” Edward’s eyes showed his concern.
She said, “Do me a favor, Liang.”
“Anything, Mrs. L.”
“Please make sure that LO network and my home computer are inviolable,” she asked in a wispy voice.
“Don’t worry. It will be done immediately,” he answered and left to comply.
“They are downstairs, Mr. Davidoff. Should they come up?” Sarah asked, and Edward nodded.
“Who, Sarah?” Sophia asked, shutting her eyes to stop the dizziness.
Sarah looked to Edward for guidance, who discreetly shook his head.
“I’m here to see Mrs. Leibowitz.” Alistair’s deep voice reached her from afar.
Where is he?
“I don’t fucking care. Move,” she heard his firm order.
Edward opened his office door and saw Sophia’s bodyguard and driver blocking Alistair’s path. “Zareb. Steven. It’s okay.”
“What the hell is happening here?” Alistair stormed into Edward’s office and seeing a very pale Sophia lying down on the sofa covered with a thermal blanket, rushed to her side.
“Mo chridhe?” He put his warm hand on her white face, looked at Edward, shocked, and covered Sophia with his coat. “She’s freezing. What happened?”
“I’m okay.” Sophia tried to sit but the room swayed around her and the buzz in her ears started again. She fell back even paler and closed her eyes, panting.
“Goddammit, Sophia, stay down,” Edward thundered as Alistair tucked his coat around her.
Sarah opened the door for the doctor and a male nurse, with a folded wheelchair.
“Edward,” Sophia hissed, “what’s going on?”
Without an answer, Edward stepped toward the doctor and shook his hand.
Alistair looked into Sophia’s eyes and ordered, as he rose from his kneeling position, “Stay down.”
“Alistair—”
He put a finger on her lips. “One second.” He walked to where Edward and Martha were explaining what happened to the doctor.
Shutting her eyes she drew in steadying breaths as they talked in low voices.
No matter how hard she tried to maintain her calm and collected persona, she knew it was all a ruse. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide. Hide from the world. Hide from her memories. Enter a shell and never leave. But hers would always be a broken shell, with all her cracks and holes exposed for the world to see. The veneer she had carefully painted to protect and hold herself together was peeling away.
She felt Alistair’s overcoat lift from her body and she missed the warmth. His long fingers closed around hers. “Put my coat on, mo chridhe. Let me help you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Sophia opened her eyes and glared at Edward. She hated her friend in that moment. He knew she didn’t handle hospitals well.
“Sophia. I’ll have no scruples in asking them to sedate you,” Edward threatened.
No. Sophia blanched.
She would not tolerate medication anymore. The reason she didn’t remember those first few months after Gabriel had been kidnapped were partially due to medication. Her father-in-law had ordered her to be drugged to keep her calm, and also pliant. She still didn’t remember how she managed to get out of her stupor, but one thing she was sure of, she would never go through that again. Sophia closed her hands with so much force that her knuckles went white.
Alistair gently squeezed her hand, “Davidoff—”
“MacCraig, I know her better than you do. She’s the most stubborn woman you’ll ever know. She was out for almost three minutes. She’s going to the hospital.” Edward looked at Alistair; the infinite patience he had with Sophia was all gone. He was taking her to the hospital, it didn’t matter to him what Alistair’s opinion was. Or Sophia’s, for that matter.
“You mistake my intentions, Davidoff. I just want a minute with her.” Alistair was battling to keep a lid on his formidable temper. If he hadn’t known how Sophia felt about Edward, he probably would have said a few things to the blond man. It took a concentrated effort to keep anger and jealousy from his face. Sophia is mine to care for. No one else’s.
His stern and even tone had Edward agreeing, “Okay. One minute.”
When everyone left the room, Alistair looked at Sophia with a mix of tenderness, wonder, and possessiveness. “Now, you’ve put me in a difficult position. If you don’t go…”
“I have put you in a difficult position, Lord Smoothness?” she snorted, trying to hide her fear. “You put me in this position.”
“Good. Now, you’ll have to go.” He smiled gently at her, helped her with his coat, and lifted her in his arms. “I’ll be with you, Sophia. Don’t worry.”
She closed her eyes and, ashamed of her irrational fear, whispered, “Promise?”
“Aye.” He kissed her forehead, squeezing her gently. “Hold on, I have to open the door.”
He flung open the door and paused by Edward.
Before either of the men could speak, Sophia said to Edward, “I hate you.”
“Hate me alive, stubborn woman,” he snapped back.
Sophia’s lips curled up in spite of herself. “Domineering CEO.”
Edward relaxed and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll drop by later to see how you’re feeling.” He looked at Alistair; he was sure Sophia was in good hands. “Take care of her and keep me informed, will you?”
“I will. She is my only priority.” It was the truth, stated more clearly than he’d allowed his own mind to recognize.
Edward blinked, stunned by the fierce statement.
Alistair’s lips twisted and he looked into Sophia’s eyes, still talking to Edward, “This wee lass…she’s a challenging experience.”
With a curt nod, he strode to the lifts with Sophia in his arms and Steven and Zareb at his heels, leaving a smiling Edward staring after them.
“Sarah,” Edward said, “cancel all her appointments for the rest of the week and on Monday. Reschedule them to the week after next. Please, also call Liang. We need to discuss new security protocols.”
Chapter 20
Ashford Steel
1:39 p.m.
Mr. Ashford?” Scott’s voice coming from the intercom interrupted Ethan’s speech.
“Just a moment, Carter.” Ethan frowned and immediately picked up the phone. Scott knew better than to interrupt a meeting when he had given strict orders not to. “Yes, Scott?”
“I thought you should be informed that Mrs. Leibowitz’s secretary canceled tomorrow’s meeting with the excuse that she had an urgent trip to Ireland. But, sir, I checked with my new informant and it’s not true.”
“Hold on, Scott.” He turned to Ronald Carter. “I need a few minutes with Scott, Carter. If you’ll excuse me.”
Ronald Carter was a young and ambitious lawyer who had been working in the legal department at Ashford Steel for over six years. He had a quick and ingenious mind and always discovered the best ways to take advantage of the legal gaps. Each year, he managed to surprise Ethan with a better tributary strategy, making his boss consider him a key player in Ashford Steel’s development.
Last year, after another promotion, Ethan had convinced Carter to enroll in a master’s course at Cambridge, funded by Ashford Steel. This, of course, served more than one purpose for Ethan.
As Scott entered his office and closed the door, Ethan rose from his chair and walked to the black leather sofa by the window.
Scott asked, “Can I make you a coffee, Mr. Ashford?”
Always subservient. Ethan acquiesced, “Yes, thank you, Scott. And Bling, please.” To each his own fetish.
Scott served coffee in the Imari china and water in a Waterford crystal glass. Each time Scott handled one of Ethan’s elaborately hand-painted china cups or opened one of the Bling H2O bottles, he felt as if he were serving a revered Samurai or a King. In fact, he had always thought of his boss as a great man with no flaws. However, Scott was discovering Ethan was human too.
Scott held the silver tray firmly. He didn’t even want to think about breaking one of those treasured objects.
“Tell me, Scott.”
Marylebone, Devonshire Street
The Harley Street Clinic Diagnosis Centre
4:11 p.m.
Pacing the corridor, Alistair inhaled deeply and the antiseptic smell made him wrinkle his nose.
Since he had come back from his quick lunch, almost two hours ago, no doctor or nurse had appeared to brief him on what was happening. He had never been so unsettled. Not even when Nathalie was born. He almost jumped when his mobile vibrated.
Tavish Uilleam. Finally. “Where are you?”
“Good afternoon to you too, Alistair Connor. How are you?” Tavish mocked.
Alistair scolded, “Do you think I would have called you ten times if it weren’t urgent? Where are you?”
“On my way to the gallery, near Park Crescent.”
“Thank Christ. Tell Garrick to bring you here. Now!”
“Where is here? Alistair Connor, you’re not—”
“I’m alone and driving myself crazy waiting for Sophia’s doctors—”
“Sophia’s doctors?”
Alistair briefly explained what had happened.
“Calm down. I’ll be there in five minutes. I’ll talk to them.”
Tavish could hear Alistair’s sigh of relief before he answered, in a hoarse voice, “Thanks, Brother.
Tavish looked at Alistair, who was leaning on the wall, eyes closed, lips thinned, and brows drawn tight. “Don’t worry. These exams usually take a long time, Alistair Connor.”
I need to see her. I need to touch her. “She’s been inside for over three hours.” Alistair inhaled and opened his eyes just as Sophia appeared at the end of the corridor.
She was still pale and was flanked by her psychiatrist, a short and plump old man with a soft white beard, and the neurologist, his perfect opposite, a wiry, tall young man, with dark hair and black eyes.
Alistair’s long strides were barely controlled. He was in front of her in a second. He didn’t look at the doctors. He asked no questions. He said nothing.
His arms went around her and his head burrowed in her hair. He simply held her, stroking her hair, her back; his large palms moving slowly, as if to assure himself she was all right.
“Everything is okay,” Sophia whispered, and closed her eyes, leaning into his warm and strong body. His touch was pure comfort. She laid her cheek on his chest, listening to his heart, steady and sure. A shuddering sigh escaped her as some of her tension drained away. She was afraid the doctors would insist on her going back on the medication.
“Alistair Connor.” Tavish’s low voice broke the moment.
Alistair gathered his wits as he inhaled Sophia’s scent. White roses, orange, and vanilla. Sophia. All I need, all I want.
He had his poker-faced mask back in place when he looked up at the doctors but he didn’t let go of Sophia. He allowed her room enough to turn around in his arms and pulled her back to his chest.
“Mrs. Leibowitz is fine, but she needs rest and some days away from work,” explained the neurologist, Dr. Merkel.
“Now,” Sophia tapped her foot on the floor and looked from the neurologist to her psychiatrist, “Doctor Colton, we agreed—”
“Sophia.” Alistair’s stern tone told Sophia she wouldn’t get out of her imposed rest.
She angled her head to look up at him, “But—”
“No but’s.” He shook his head briskly and gazed at the doctors. “She will rest. I’ll see to it.”
“Good.” Dr. Colton, Sophia’s psychiatrist smirked at her and Sophia huffed a breath. “No work, no lectures—”
“No, no, no. I have to—”
Alistair shushed her. “Leonard will talk with Holbrook for you.”
Her psychiatrist’s smile just grew. “Finally, someone who can order you around. No work, no lectures. I’ll allow some light exercise—and I mean light, Sophia. I’ll talk with Dr. Kent. I want you in therapy every week day until Wednesday. And I’m sending someone to your house. I don’t want you to be alone.”
No. Not again. Sophia’s eyes stung and she lowered her head, blinking to keep away her tears, and whispered, “I don’t need someone to take care of me. I’m not crazy.”
“No one said that. Sophia, Dr. Kent explained it to you. You’re remembering painful things. You have hypotension, so we need to keep an eye on you.”
“That’s the only reason why we want a private nurse by your side,” complemented Dr. Merkel, the neurologist. “We don’t want you hurting yourself if you faint and fall.”
“Is there a specific need for a private nurse or will anyone do?” Tavish asked.
“Anyone who can react quickly and that is strong enough to carry her, if necessary.”
“I’ll stay,” Alistair affirmed.
“There’s no need—” Sophia started to say, but was interrupted by Alistair’s scowl.
“Don’t argue with me. I’m staying with you.”
“But—”
“Sophia.” Alistair’s tone conveyed to Sophia he was set on staying with her, no matter what she said.
She rolled her eyes and exaggeratedly blew out a breath, hiding her smile when Alistair grunted and Tavish chuckled.
“Great,” said Dr. Colton. “Let’s step into my office for a moment so I can explain everything a bit better.”
Atwood House
9:19 p.m.
Stubborn woman. Davidoff is right. Alistair’s powerful frame, leaning against the wall in the TV room, didn’t betray his conflicting emotions. He appeared as smooth and collected as he was when he walked Edward to the door, after they all finished dinner.
But Tavish knew better. He could even sense the distrust, the anger, and a disquieting fear vibrating beneath his brother’s poker-face.
“Really, there’s no need—
“Sophia,” Tavish said. He sat beside her on the sofa and peered up at Alistair before putting his hand over Sophia’s. “You agreed to it.”
“But Tavish, I’ll be in bed in an hour. I have a house full of employees. Maria is going to sleep in Gabriela’s room. There’s no need for your brother to play the nurse.”
She turned to look at Alistair’s forest-green eyes. They were hooded and she couldn’t discern what he was thinking. She gazed back into Tavish’s and again marveled at the difference between the two brothers. She could clearly see what Tavish was thinking.
“I know you’re both worried but I…I—” She sighed and bit her lip for a second, looking down at her hands. Her face was pale when she said in a low voice, “I might have nightmares. I don’t want Alistair to be disturbed—”
“Enough!” Alistair was seething. He pushed from the wall, walked to Sophia and scowled down at her. “Enough of this bullshit, Sophia. I thought our relationship was much more than this. So I can sleep with you when you—” He interrupted himself before he said something he would regret. His hands clenched by his sides. “It’s my place to be with you. At all times. And no one is taking that away from me. Not even you.”
“But—” Tavish’s discreet head signal made her stop. She bit her lip again and bowed her head. After a moment, as Alistair didn’t say anything, she tilted her head back to search his face. Poker-faced. As usual. She put her
hand over his fist and his fingers opened to grip hers. He sat next to her on the sofa.
“Sophia, I won’t sleep if I go home and leave you here by yourself.” He plunged his free hand in his long ink-black hair, the only sign of his nervousness. “Do you want me to talk Tavish Uilleam’s ears off all night long waiting for the sun to rise to come running to your door?”
Tavish grunted and Sophia’s lips twisted ruefully, as she whispered to him, “Poor Tavish Uilleam. You’ll be awake all night.”
She can’t wait to see me out of the door. So much for wanting a steady relationship. His fingers tightened around hers and his ink-black brows furrowed.
Sophia looked at him and saw that his face said he would not accept leaving her side. “Are you sure you won’t be disturbed?”
Really? Alistair huffed. “You’re unbelievable.”
“So, if you two are set, I’m going home.” Tavish got up and shoved his hands in his trousers pockets.
Alistair stood and frowned down at Sophia as she started to stand too. “You stay put. I’ll see Tavish Uilleam out and come right back. Don’t you dare move from here.”
“I’m not an invalid, Alistair Connor.” She frowned back but relaxed against the sofa.
Tavish smiled and bent to kiss her cheek. “Have a good night, Sophia.”
“Thanks, Tavish Uilleam.” She kissed him back. “For everything.”
He smiled and left the TV room with Alistair.
Sophia heard him say, “Promise to call me if she feels anything.”
She smiled when Alistair replied, “You don’t even have to ask.”
Sophia watched as Alistair pulled on a black cotton T-shirt and then tied the drawstrings of a pair of black silk pajama shorts. “I like men in silk pajamas.”
He turned to look at her framed by the dressing room doorway, and appraised her purple silk and lace nightie and matching wrap. He raised an eyebrow. “Lass, you better like just me in silk pajamas.”
She turned to the bedroom and smiled at him over her shoulder, not deigning to answer.