Dangerous Obsession

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said as she hiccupped softly. She wiped her face. “I’m not like this.”

  Alistair smoothed his hand over her hair. “You had a fright. A nice, hot bath will make you feel better. Wait here.”

  Let’s get you out of those clothes,” Alistair said, coming out of the bathroom. “Your bath is ready.”

  Alistair helped her out of her nightie and underwear. “Come on, sweetheart.” Alistair stood up with her in his arms and carried her into the bathroom, setting her gently down into the steaming water.

  She hissed as the water hit her tense body.

  Fuck. “I’m sorry, mo chridhe,” he whispered. “It’ll get better.”

  “No, it’s okay. You were right. This is wonderful.” She gingerly leaned back and closed her eyes.

  “Do you hurt?” Alistair knelt beside the tub.

  “All over,” Sophia said wryly, as she rubbed her right hand over her heart.

  “Scoot forward. Let me wash your back,” Alistair murmured, while she pinned her hair on top of her head.

  Let go, Sophia. Gabriel won’t come back. There’s nothing you can do. Sophia bit her bottom lip for a second and then drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. “I must say, you make a wonderful nurse.”

  His lips curled up, “I never thought a woman would say that to me.”

  “Alistair Connor…” Sophia sighed. “I don’t want this to ruin Alice’s birthday.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Sophia!” He reined in his impatience. Fuck, Sophia, be a bit selfish.

  “No. I mean it.” She raised her head, but couldn’t turn it from the stiffness in her muscles. “Please? Promise me you aren’t going to stay with me in your bedroom all day.”

  “We’ll see,” he muttered. “Lean back. Careful…” He placed a towel on the edge of the tub, making her rest her head on it and grabbed the sponge again. “Now, let me finish this.”

  Oh. No. That’s enough. “No way, Nurse MacCraig. Out with you.” She shooed him away with an elegant flick of her hand. “I’ll finish this. Give me five minutes. I’ll call if I need you.”

  He smiled, amazed at her blushing cheeks. “You’re not embarrassed, are you?”

  I am. She blushed and threw drops of water on him. “Out. Before I splash you.”

  Stubborn woman. He stifled an aggravated grunt and walked to the dressing room, taking off his pajamas and returning to the bathroom.

  Sophia’s eyes were closed, her head resting against the towel on the rim of the tub. She seemed so small and fragile to him that his irritation ebbed away. He silently stepped into the tub.

  Sophia gasped and opened her eyes as a shallow wave of water washed over her breasts. She gaped at Alistair, “What—”

  He sank down into the water and picked her up in his arms, gently swirling her around and settling her between his strong legs, her back against his chest. “If you don’t see me, you won’t be shy. I want to take care of you, sweetheart.”

  His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm under her back, while his hands affectionately roamed over her body, cleaning her, washing away her shyness.

  With her head on his shoulder, she stated, more than asked, “Nurse MacCraig, do you always have your way?”

  Lovingly, he smiled at her and whispered, “Always, Beauty. Always.”

  Sunday, April 4, 2010

  1:30 p.m.

  Above Sophia’s head, on a branch of one of the ancient oaks that graced the backyard of Ells Hall, a bird chirped and flew to the ground. She kept very still on the bench and it came closer, eating small crumbs of bread Gabriela and Ariadne were throwing.

  Alistair’s arrival scared it and the bird fluttered away.

  “My favorite lasses.” He grinned and dropped to his haunches to kiss Gabriela and Ariadne on the cheek and sat next to Sophia, kissing her lips. “Girls, Maria is going to take you riding later. Your mother can’t go today, Gabriela.”

  “That’s okay.”

  Ariadne jumped down from the bench. “Let’s call Michael to come play.”

  Gabriela joined Ariadne, their laughter filling the air as they threw crumbs to the birds on their way back to the house.

  He smiled at the girls’ carefree happiness and turned to Sophia, examining her face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.” She gave him a little smile. “Tavish Uilleam gave me something stronger this morning to help with the pain. I barely feel a thing.”

  “Good.” He took her hand and stood up, motioning to the basket he had put on the ground. “Come on. I’ve brought lunch.”

  “Lunch?”

  “Aye. A picnic. Just the two of us today.”

  “Are the kids are going to be all right?”

  “Sure, they’ll be fine. Besides, Ariadne knows Ells Hall like the back of her hand and Maria is waiting for them.”

  Sophia looked at the girls skipping happily together and at Alistair. “If you’re sure…”

  “I am. Come on.”

  Alistair took Sophia to his favorite spot. The grass was smooth at this time of the year, and he set everything up under the old oak he liked to climb when he was a kid. A luscious carpet of bluebells was laid out in front of them.

  “This is so beautiful. Really amazing,” she said, turning around and gazing at the view. “I have never seen such a…beautiful is too mundane a word for it. It’s otherworldly. Just…unbelievable.”

  “This is my secret place. I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he said quietly. He knew she would love that spot as much as he did. “You are the first, in thirty-five years.” He stood there looking at her for a long time before lowering his head to kiss her slowly and gently, letting his passion kindle their fire little by little. When he broke the kiss they were panting. He breathed on her hair. “One day, I will make love to you here.”

  Naughty man! “You’re always planning weird things.” She smiled and shook her head at him. “In the open?” I’ll think about it.

  He chuckled wickedly as he spread a big blanket on the grass. The sweet smell of the flowers surrounded them.

  “Let me help,” she said, as they sat on the blanket and he started to take the food out of the basket.

  “Nae, I can do it.” The intense happiness he’d been feeling these last few months was due to her presence, the way she made him laugh, the way he burned for her.

  He’d tried to tell himself once that it was just potent lust, that it would fade in time, but now he knew that wasn’t true. Alistair knew he would never have enough of Sophia.

  He, who had thought love was a dead emotion for him, had discovered that Sophia could awaken it inside him, like a phoenix arising from the ashes of his black soul. What Heather had killed, Sophia had resurrected and made flourish, even when he had tried to smother it.

  Her laugh tinkled under the canopy of the woodland trees startling him from his reverie. She stared at the blanket where he was laying out some bread, cheese, foie gras, Pata negra ham, and many other things he kept taking out of the basket. “How many people are you going to feed today?”

  He wanted everything to be perfect. He felt himself blushing. And this is ridiculous. I don’t blush. “Just the two of us. We can eat what we like. I will take the rest back to the house.”

  He took a chilled bottle of champagne from the basket.

  “Hmm, champagne. And a 1928 Krug.” She smiled mischievously at him. “You want something.”

  “I’ll always want something with you, Beauty. Always,” he retorted as he sat by her side on the blanket and dropped his head to kiss her.

  Sophia was lying on the blanket smiling dreamily at the way the soft breeze tousled the leaves, almost dozing. It was one of the most enjoyable lunches they’d ever shared. Her view was suddenly blocked by Alistair’s smiling face, his forest-green eyes reflecting the happiness she felt.

  “What?” she lazily asked. Sunlight shone through the leaves and danced on Alistair’s hair, making it spa
rkle with midnight-blue strands, creating a starting contrast with his lightly tanned skin and green eyes, enthralling her more than anything else.

  “What did you find in the sky that put that dreamy look on your face?” he smiled.

  “You,” she answered. “This idyllic place. Everything.”

  The wildlife surrounding her made her feel romantic. She looked into his smiling eyes and whispered, “In spite of everything that’s happened, sometimes I feel like I’m dreaming.” She combed his bangs with her fingers and rested her palm on his cheek. “Am I?”

  “I don’t know.” His smile widened. “What is your dream about?”

  “Uh,” she said coyly, “if you don’t know, I can’t tell you.”

  “Do you want to know what I dream about?” As she nodded, he continued, “I dream about you, about us, and about us three: Gabriela, you, and I. I dream about spending my whole life with you.” He inhaled and launched, “Sophia, will you marry me?”

  What! Time stood still. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. She was astounded.

  “Marry me. I will be the happiest man in the world.”

  “But…I—I—” she stuttered and sucked in air. “We’ve only been together a few weeks. Don’t you think it’s too soon to talk about this?”

  “Not few weeks, but months. Time is too valuable, Beauty. I realized it when Nathalie died and I thought I had lost everything. We live in a countdown. We can’t afford to waste a second, Sophia.” His face fell. “I didn’t think you would mind the short time we’ve been together. You married—” He interrupted himself and fell silent as evil thoughts churned in his mind. She will say no. She wants kids that I can’t possibly give her. I’m much older than her. Fuck! But what is she thinking? It’s not every day she will find a man like me.

  He sat up, with his back to her.

  She understood his half-finished sentence. “I was young. I didn’t have Gabriela then. I had nothing to lose. I…Gabriel was already thirty. We…I…” She shook her head. He’s right. I didn’t mind marrying Gabriel only six months after we’d started going out and I was insanely happy with him.

  “Alistair Connor. Please look at me,” Sophia whispered and touched his back. He turned to look at her over his shoulder. She licked her lips and bit the lower one. Say it, Sophia.

  Alistair watched her mouth, entranced by its erotic movements. How he longed to feel them moving over his body, kissing him, licking him, sucking him. She had the power to be his salvation and he was proposing to her. Willingly, after he thought he would never marry again. “I’m already thirty-five. We have both been married. It would just be a formality.” Ach! Alistair Connor MacCraig! Just a formality?

  But it seemed the perfect arrangement for him. This way his craving to have her in his bed every night, at his table every morning, and in his arms whenever he wanted would be satisfied. His eyes roamed over her. He longed to run his tongue over her collarbone, kissing his way to her supple breasts and make love to her under the old oak. Alistair scowled down at his erection. Control yourself, cock. I’m proposing here. He curled his fingers under her chin, making her look into his eyes and started again.

  “Sophia. I love you.” He kissed her lips and whispered, “No one can make me happier than you do. I know I will never find someone I love as much as you. And Gabriela…I would care for her and love her as if she were my own daughter.” He sighed. “You. You are my soul mate. Our marriage was plotted by the angels in Heaven the day we met.”

  Oh, my. She gaped at him and quickly looked away toward the bluebell carpet, making a huge effort not to grab onto him and believe in everything he was saying, words that were so beautiful and so amazing, if only they could always be true. She played with the edge of the blanket and watched the sun play hide and seek in his hair as she thought about the last few months.

  Sophia knew Alistair was beyond amazing as a lover, sometimes wild and animalistic, other times tender and reverent. He was clever and intelligent. He had a unique and strange sense of honor, sometimes a bit possessive, but, nonetheless, he was a man of principles and morals. And he clearly loved Gabriela. But does he love me enough to live with my ghosts? Do I love him enough to live with his?

  “Sophia?” he beckoned quietly with a light caress under her chin.

  Every fiber in Alistair’s body and mind commanded him to kiss her, to devour her. But he didn’t want her response to be clouded by lust. He held his breath, his heart beating so fast that he could hear the pounding in his ears, and waited.

  “Alistair Connor.” Sophia, your name means wisdom. Be wise, at least once and ponder. No, Sophia, be selfish and accept. She shooed the thoughts away and with a bleeding heart, breathed, “No.”

  He was caught unaware by the short word. Alistair clamped his lips shut to stop the gasp that surely would have escaped, as a sharp pain jabbed his gut.

  She has said…nae? NAE! “Nae?” he repeated in disbelief. It would appear that God has not finished punishing me. For in you, Sophia, I have found my salvation and my damnation.

  Sophia shook her head slowly and lowered her eyelids; she couldn’t bear the pained and surprised look on his face.

  Alistair swallowed hard. Unconsciously, he drew himself up, straighter, taller, colder, bracing himself for the next blow. His face assumed a nonchalant look.

  Dammit! “No, I’m not rejecting you,” she whispered. The tightness in her throat was overwhelming, making it almost impossible to swallow or breathe. She smoothed out her skirt, trying to smooth away the dread that was accumulating inside her. “I like your company. I appreciate your way of living and thinking, even though we are still getting to know each other. I care for you. Very much.” I do, but I’m afraid. There’s too much to consider, too many changes, too many secrets. Not enough time together. She was feeling confused from all the considerations swarming her mind. She inhaled slowly and traced his commitment ring. “It’s just that…I need some time to think about it.” Sophia, you are so stupid. You should have said yes from the beginning. She enlaced her fingers with his and looked up to stare in his eyes. The green was almost gone, but his face was expressionless. “Please, don’t be angry,” she asked softly. “Please?”

  “I’m not angry.” I’m hurt. “But I will wait, Sophia. And you will say yes. I know you will. You will be my wife,” Alistair nodded. They were silent for a while and then Alistair spoke, changing subjects. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger and he said absentmindedly, “The vet told me Avenger is nervous.”

  “Why?” She almost thanked him for the new topic. “What happened?”

  He made a supreme effort and a small smile appeared on his lips. “I think your horse misses you.”

  Sophia paired his effort with a small smile of her own. “Why did you give him to me?”

  “Don’t you like him?”

  “On the contrary. I love him, and I love his name. Just curious.”

  I see…you love a horse but you don’t love me. You’ll say it, Sophia! You will. “He reminds me of a woman I admire very much.”

  Me? “But he is male.” Please, say it’s me.

  His smile darkened and naughtiness shimmered on his eyes. “So?” he shrugged. “Do you want to change horses?”

  Why? She frowned inward. It’s not me? “No, of course not,” she answered. “Forget about it.”

  He laughed quietly and she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Great. Because this woman once told me, and I quote, No one, no one harms what is mine and stays unpunished. Do you know—”

  He laughed as she tackled him to the ground and crawled over his body.

  “Mocking me, my lord?” she asked from above him as she dipped her fingers in his hair. Her laughing face took on a gentle look. “Alistair Connor?”

  “Hmm?” His hand lifted to caress her bruised face and his thumb drew the contour of her mouth. There was a sadness in his eyes that didn’t deny the disappointment he was feeling at her refusal. Please, don’t try t
o justify the unjustifiable. I don’t want your pity. I want your love.

  “I—” God, Sophia! Can’t you see he is hurting? That you are hurting him? “I’ll think carefully about your proposal.” Damn! Are you considering a business transaction? “Ah, I mean—”

  His thumb on her lips stopped her lame excuses and he pulled her head down for a tender kiss, not wanting to know whatever reasons she had to say no to him. There are words better left unheard, better left unsaid, Sophia.

  Sophia kissed him back.

  Alistair didn’t know why but the kiss had a sour taste of good-bye.

  Chapter 33

  Niarchos Angepopoulos’s House, On the beach

  Sunday, June 18, 1989

  1:00 p.m.

  Ethan dragged himself to the sand and sat there, the gentle waves caressing him like they wanted to soothe the deep pain inside his heart. He took off his socks. His shoes had been lost during his crazed swimming. He looked down at his feet and curled his toes into the sand.

  Niarchos sat quietly beside him, not caring that his expensive clothes were getting wet. “Ethan.”

  Ethan didn’t think he had any strength left. However, he looked up, faced his grandfather and whispered, “Why, Grandpa?”

  “Because you needed it. But I didn’t want you to find out like this. You weren’t supposed to find out at all.” Niarchos felt as if he were a hundred-and-forty years old instead of seventy. He put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “I understand that you are angry with me. However…I don’t regret my actions, my son, and I would have done it again. I love you, Ethan. My love demands that I do everything in my power to see you happy and healthy. No matter how, no matter the cost.”

  Damn you, Grandpa. Ethan rested his chin on his knees and sighed deeply.

  “One day you will understand that I couldn’t stand by and see you wasting away anymore. You were hurting. I had to do something.”

  Ethan didn’t answer. He knew his grandfather’s words made sense, if analyzed with cold detachment, but his deception and his hurt were too great to let him forgive so easily.