Alistair’s heart shattered and he shook her shoulders hard. “Sophia! WAKE UP!”
Sophia’s eyes shot open. She stared unseeingly at him for a few moments until she could comprehend where she was. She sucked in a ragged breath and closed her eyes again.
“Are you okay?” He released her shoulders slowly. He noticed that his fingers left red marks, new indentations on her skin. Great, Alistair Connor. Just great. You are going to cover the woman’s entire body in black-and-blue marks by the end of the day.
“Yes,” she answered hoarsely. “I-I’m sorry.”
He wrapped her in his arms and soothed her with tender, loving words in Gaelic, stroking her back lightly for some minutes until he felt her relaxing against his chest.
She looked at him, mortified that he had seen and heard her having that nightmare. “I’m sorry—”
He stopped her with a finger on her lips and drew his ink-black brows low. “Are they still common or was it caused by my aggression?”
“Oh, Alistair, please, don’t do this to yourself.”
He grimaced. “You had a nightmare when Ethan hurt you.”
“No, the nightmares aren’t triggered by…” She paused, searching for a word and sighed. “By the recent events. I used to have them every night. It’s getting better now.”
“Have you seen a doctor recently?” He studied her, worried.
“I have therapy sessions twice a week and a psychiatric I see once in a while. But, how can I talk about something I don’t remember? How can I work it out if I don’t know what goes on in my head when I dream?” She shivered. “I feel…damaged, incomplete, sick.”
“Oh, Beauty,” he whispered into her hair, “you’re perfect. Just perfect.”
“No. I am not. I was diagnosed with severe stress and mood disorders after…” She waved her hand briefly over her scarred arm. “My mood and my behavior changed. I had to take lots of drugs. Not so long ago, I had therapy sessions every day. I know I’m nothing but imperfect.”
“I forbid you to say that again,” He curled his fingers under her chin and made her look at him. “You’ve gone through an unimaginable horror and survived it. You’re a wonderful mother, a strong and competent businesswoman, and an amazing lover. You’re beautiful, gentle, understanding. You have an indomitable spirit. You humble me with your character, and I do no’ want to hear that again. Ever. Understood?”
All the traits he recited made him acknowledge the failings in his own character, now even more noticeable to himself. And that made him more resolute to better himself for her. He clenched his jaw as he glanced at her body, black-and-blue marks all over her thighs and neck.
Alistair kissed the top of Sophia’s head and inhaled her scent. White roses, oranges, and vanilla. Fresh, innocent, and sweet. Goodness. “You smell so good, Sophia.”
“Love me. Hard and fast,” she said, offering her lips to him. “Make me feel alive, Alistair.”
He lowered his head into a heart-stopping kiss and shifted over her body, kissing and licking his way down.
He pulled her lower body off the edge of the bed until her legs draped over his forearms. His hands held her buttocks as he knelt on the floor. He grinned savagely at her before his teeth nipped her clitoris and his tongue plunged deep into her body.
“Yes, oh, yes.” She rocked in his mouth as his licking drove her crazy with need. She gripped his hair and demanded, “More.”
“Fingers?” He traced her seam softly with his index finger, teasing, stroking her to a fever pitch.
“Ah! Please,” she gasped. She couldn’t contain her moans anymore when he dived one finger deep into her body, rotating it. And then two, lapping at her clitoris, with low growling noises.
Digging her nails into his scalp, Sophia struggled to keep her orgasm at bay.
“What else do you like?” he whispered.
“Everything. Keep going,” she gasped as she approached climax. She fisted his thick, silky hair, threading her fingers through it, and tugged roughly, pulling him up onto her body. “Take me. Hard.”
Her words brought his gaze to her face. He stood, sheathed himself, and held up her legs to wrap them around his waist while he pressed his hips forward until the tip of his shaft pressed against her. “Tell me, who do you want?”
“You, Alistair Connor, only you,” she promised.
“Hard and fast?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her heels pressed down on his buttocks.
His hands cupped her bottom and his thumbs parted her. A groan rumbled low in his throat as he shoved hard in one thrust.
A throaty scream escaped Sophia as he burrowed himself to the hilt.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he gasped. Pulling out, he repeated the sharp movement.
“Ah, yes.” His rough plunges kept her on the edge between pleasure and pain.
“Touch your breasts, Sophia.”
She opened her eyes, startled by his growled order.
“Touch yourself.” His forest-green eyes caught fire. “I want to see you pleasuring yourself.”
She cupped her breasts with her hands, but he gripped one of her hands and put it over her mound.
“Rub your clit.”
She had never done anything so bold. Pleasure flared through her body as she noticed how turned on he was, watching her. As the climax began to peak, she demanded, “Harder! Faster!”
“Come for me, Sophia.” He set a violent rhythm, his measured thrusts filling her with passion. He bent down to catch a nipple between his lips, sucking hard.
Suddenly, it hit her with violence, bright stars exploding behind her eyes, making her breathless and dizzy. Her muscles clamped around his invading arousal and they shouted together.
He pulled her hips flush against his own, a sharp pleasure spearing her as he pressed deeper.
“Sophia,” he gasped, as her orgasm triggered his. He plunged deep once again and held still, his whole body stiff and his eyes closed tight. For several moments, he stayed immobile, enjoying the sensual feelings coursing through his body and then collapsed on the bed, supporting himself on his forearms over her, his forest-green eyes searching hers. “You’re amazing.”
He placed a kiss on her mouth and rolled onto his back, pulling her against his chest. He sighed deeply when her head rested below his chin and she purred, contented and sated.
“You have just the right amount of energy for me.” He chuckled and felt her smiling on his chest.
“The weekend isn’t over yet, Alistair Connor,” she whispered.
His hand caressed her long hair. “I love you, mo chridhe.”
“What?”
He smiled. He hadn’t noticed he had spoken in Gaelic. “You, Sophia, are mo chridhe. My heart.”
“Mo chridhe,” she experienced the words on her tongue. “I like that.”
An unrecognizable desire to be with her forever surged through him and he didn’t try to order his emotions that felt completely out of control, a strange happiness filling his heart.
It wasn’t only her exquisite face or her sexy body that had drawn him to her. It was her incredible spirit and way of confronting life.
It was her hope for a better life in spite of all she—and he—had suffered.
Sophia is not my second chance. She is my heavenly gift.
After a few minutes, she kissed his chest, rose from the bed, and walked to the glass doors, stretching, entwining her arms above her head.
“Mmm. It’s a beautiful day.” She turned to him with a satisfied smile on her lips. “I’m hungry. Can you call for our breakfast, please? With coffee. Espresso, of course.”
Life suddenly had possibilities as new and bright as the sun shining outside. He sighed happily, picked up the phone from the bedside table, and asked for the delivery of their breakfast.
Alistair watched her young face as she raised it toward the gentle winter sun and he made a firm decision in that moment. She, I will trust.
Dark Obsession
<
br /> TRUST
To my dear, loving husband Raphael,
Real heroes are not only valued by courage or bravery,
but also by small, gentle daily acts.
You are my daily hero.
Thanks for being mine.
Chapter 1
London, The City, Victoria Embankment
The City of London Bank Headquarters
Monday, March 15, 2010
9:08 a.m.
“Alistair Connor!” Tavish snapped his fingers in front of his brother’s face. “Wake up, dammit.”
Alistair looked at his younger brother and blinked away the thoughts of Sophia’s naked body. “I’m awake, can’t you see?”
“Then,” he smirked, “should we call them in or not?”
Alistair rubbed a hand on his nape and looked sheepishly at Tavish. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got it bad, man.” A broad smile split Tavish’s rugged face and he even chuckled. “I never thought I’d see the mighty Alistair Connor daydreaming.”
“I’m not the mighty Alistair Connor. And I wasn’t daydream—” he interrupted himself and smiled. “Okay, I was. She’s everything a man could wish for, Tavish Uilleam.” And his grin turned almost idiotic with happiness.
“Have you told her about Heather?”
Alistair’s smile waned. “Fuck. You had to spoil it, Tavish Uilleam.”
“You’ve told her about your preferences?”
“She is too innocent and—” Alistair sighed. “The truth is I’m afraid of scaring her away.”
“She has the right to know, Alistair Connor. Or is she worth a change?”
“She’s worth everything. Anything.” He looked toward the huge windows of his office, his gaze distant. But I hurt her. I can never apologize enough.
“But?” Tavish tilted his head, studying Alistair’s face. “Alistair Connor, I really think you should see a therapist. If she’s half what Alice told me…” He looked his brother in the eye. “She won’t abide your sexual orientation.”
“Have you been talking about Sophia behind my back?” Alistair’s face darkened. “What is your interest in her?”
He sustained the dark stare. “None. My interest rests on you. And our family. I won’t see another Heather—”
Alistair banged his fist on the table startling his brother. “Sophia is nothing like Heather.”
“Okay, okay,” Tavish put his hands up. “I know that now.” He stood up and put both hands on the desk, leaning toward his brother. “But do you? Are you ready to be in a relationship with her? A real, normal relationship? Is she strong enough to avoid turning into another Heather? Or are you going to degrade her like Heather did with you?”
London, The City, Fleet Street
Leibowitz Oil Building
9:16 a.m.
Sophia tried in vain to stifle a yawn and giggled, as Edward watched her with keen eyes from the armchair opposite her desk.
His blue eyes twinkled and he grinned wickedly at her. “Not enough sleep?”
“Nope.” Her voice was still a bit hoarse and she fingered the Hermès printed silk scarf she had put around her neck.
“I take it the CEO of The City of London Bank knows his job well?”
Sophia just smiled and blinked trying to fight the sleepiness that was taking hold of her.
“I told you, Sophia, third one’s the charm.”
She yawned again and Edward’s grin broadened. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
“I need caffeine.” She rose from her chair and stretched, looking at him with a naughty expression on her face. “Do you want one?”
“Yeah, please.”
She made a couple of coffees with her Nespresso machine and handed one to Edward.
“Well. I can say I didn’t sleep much.” She picked up her coffee and sat back on her chair. The memory of them making love over the weekend surfaced. “Only a few hours last night. This morning I skipped the gym, had to drag myself to the shower and three coffees haven’t helped. I’m still sleepy.”
“Come on, Sophia. The full report.”
“Edward!”
“You spent the whole weekend with him?”
She turned on her iMac and glanced away from him, blushing, “I did.”
“That good, huh?”
You can’t imagine. “Nope. Better,” she winked and focused on the contract on her computer screen. “So—”
“How do you rate him?”
Off the charts. She refused to glance at him, biting her lip to stop her joyful smile from appearing.
He shoved a hand in his blond hair, pushing it back from his forehead and settled down more comfortably in the armchair. “I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me all about it.”
That made her turn her head and stare at him amused. Edward’s smile was impossibly wide and mischievous. He looked like a boy waiting for his favorite story.
“Fine. I would give him…a ten,” she grinned, “maybe eleven. But I’d never tell him. He’s already too conceited. He’d probably laugh, just like he laughed at me the whole weekend.” Or probably not. He would be angry if he knew I was gossiping with Edward about his sexual prowess—or not. Him and his mercurial moods.
“Aaand?”
Her eyes twinkled and she whispered, “He is a…devil in bed.”
“One of my kind.” Edward wiggled his eyebrows.
“Edward! I wouldn’t have thought you were so vain.” She creased her brow in thought. “No. I’m wrong. He’s not a devil. He’s an angel.” An angel? Alistair Connor? No. Never.
“He can’t be too angelic if he put that naughty look on your face.”
“Not angelic, no. A fallen angel,” she finished, smiling. “Anyhow, an angel. He took me to heaven, maybe surreptitiously, quite a few times during the weekend,” she giggled and Edward laughed with her.
The intercom buzzed and Sophia pressed the button with a big smile on her face. “Yes?”
“Mrs. L, Dr. Walter is on your private line. May I transfer him?”
“Dr. Walter? Dr. John Walter?”
“Yes, Mrs. L,” Sarah confirmed.
“Transfer him, please, Sarah,” Sophia picked up the handset and rose from her chair, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looking absentmindedly at the beautiful view of the River Thames.
“Hello? Sophia?” John Walter’s quiet voice reached her.
“Hi, John. How are you? How are Claire and the children?”
“Everyone’s fine, my dear. You and Gabriela?”
“We’re fine. Thanks. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Sophia, I…my secretary received a call earlier from Alistair MacCraig asking for an appointment today at six. For both of you. Together.”
Oh, damn. “Ah…yes.” Please, say you can’t fit us in. Please. Please!
“I have a C-section scheduled at five, so I can’t fit you in. I’m sorry.”
She sighed, relieved. “If it won’t work today, don’t worry about it. It’s not an emergency.”
Sophia heard him speaking with someone and the clicking sound of a keyboard. “I wanted to check with you first before confirming the appointment. I found it…unusual, since you always come alone. And quite frankly this is the first time…I’ve had this kind of request from…the boyfriend. Hmm, let’s see… This week is quite full. I can fit you in either today or tomorrow, but only at twelve-thirty. I don’t have any other times for the rest of the week. Or it could be next week.”
“Let me check with Alistair and I’ll call your secretary back, John. But don’t worry. It’s nothing important. Thanks for your call. Send Claire and the kids a kiss. Take care.” She hung up and remained there looking at the phone in her hand. “Damn!” She stomped her right foot on the carpet floor.
“Something wrong?” Edward was observing her with a strange look on his face. Sophia never stomped her feet unless she was really irritated.
“Everyt
hing,” she muttered under her breath, “everything.” Still by the window, she called her secretary. “Sarah, could you please get Mr. Alistair MacCraig on the line?” She switched off and turned to Edward. “Why am I always involved with bossy men?”
“Because you are bossy too? Gabriel was too spellbound by your charms to put you on a leash. You were the only one who ordered him around.” He smiled at her. “You found someone who seems to know how to deal with you. If he weren’t firm and ignored your whims, you’d be bossing him around.”
Me? Bossing Alistair Connor MacCraig around? You have no idea, Mr. CEO. “Et tu, Brutus?” she snorted, trying to maintain an impassive face but failing miserably. She couldn’t get angry when Edward was near.
“Even I, Imperatrix,” he teased.
Her mouth split in a big grin, “Imperatrix?”
“Or should I say dominatrix?” He wiggled his brows at her. “But then, a dominatrix wouldn’t fit with MacCraig.”
Sophia scrunched her face at him, “Dominatrix? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Mmm, nothing, Sophia. Nothing.” She was so sophisticated and mature for her age that sometimes Edward forgot how innocent she was in sexual matters.
“Come on, Edward.” She tilted her head to the side, “Explain yourself—” The intercom buzzed. “Transfer him, Sarah, please,” she said, leaving no time for her secretary to say anything. She marched to the bathroom raising her index finger and mouthing to Edward, “One minute.”
She closed the door and vented her anger on the phone, in a low voice, “Are you crazy, Alistair Connor? I told you I was clean and on birth control. What’s the hurry? Couldn’t you have called me first? John wants to see us at midday today. What is he going to think about you? About me? Dammit, Alistair Connor. Dammit!!”
“I don’t know who John is, or what he’s going to think about you or Alistair Connor. And I don’t care,” a deep masculine and amused voice answered her, chuckling. “How are you, Sophia?”
Not Alistair.
I just told a man I’m clean and on birth control. Oh, ground, please, swallow me.