“We can renegotiate it. I have underlined the clauses for review. Or…” she chewed on her lips, “We could always do an IPO.”

He widened his blue eyes. “You’re going to put LO on the stock market? What would Gabriel think of this?”

“Gabriel was open-minded, Edward. It’s an easy way to raise funds. You can choose; do we have time to renegotiate the contract? If so, go for it. Otherwise, I will grant the loan to LO myself while we prepare the IPO.”

“We’re running out of time. And we definitely have no time to prepare an IPO, Sophia. Besides, I’m not allowing you to make a personal loan. We have dis-” The intercom buzz interrupted him.

“Yes, Sarah?” Sophia said in a displeased voice.

“Mrs. L, I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s Mr. Ashford.”

Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’m busy, Sarah. Tell him that I’ll call back as soon as possible.”

“Uh, Mrs. L, he’s not on the line.”

“No?” Sophia forehead creased.

“No. He left a message saying he’ll pick you up at one o’clock to take you to lunch. His secretary is on the line; she wants to know where she should make the reservations.”

His secretary! The gall. “In hell,” she muttered.

“I beg your pardon, Mrs. L?” Sarah’s voice sounded shocked from the other side. Edward barked a laugh.

“Sarah, tell Mr. Ashford’s secretary Mrs. Leibo- Mrs. Santo. Heavens, Sophia! You have to decide what name you want to use. This is quite confusing.”

Sophia smiled at him. “Mrs. Santo for those who don’t know who I am. Easy.”

“Right. So, Sarah, tell Mr. Ashford’s secretary Mrs. Santo wants to go to China Tang at The Dorchester,” Edward finished, shaking his head at her.

“Hold on, please, Sarah.” She touched the mute button, “No way, Mr. Davidoff.” She bit her lip. If he wants me to have lunch with him, he should call me. Yes, that’s it. “Sarah, tell Mr. Ashford’s secretary that I don’t have an answer for her. And, please, only call me again if Mr. Ashford himself is on the line. I won’t answer if anyone else calls. Only his or Gabriela’s. Have I made myself clear?”

“Ye-yes, Mrs. L, I’m sorry,” Sarah stammered.

“Poor, poor Sarah,” Edward tsked. “So moody, Sophia. Why didn’t you answer his secretary?”

“Edward. He should call, not his secretary.”

“You haven’t fallen for him,” he shook his head, pity in his eyes.

Sophia thinned her lips. “I like him, Edward. That’s all. Now, if you ple-” The intercom buzzed again. “Oh, damn! Yes, Sarah?”

“Mr. Ashford on line two, Mrs. L. Are you answering the call?” Sarah’s voice sounded apologetic.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Please transfer him.”

“Sophia, darling, good morning.” Ethan’s baritone voice filled the room. “Why didn’t you answer my secretary?”

“Ethan, I don’t go out with secretaries.” Edward smiled at Sophia’s petulant answer. “You want to go out with me, you call me.”

“I see.” He inhaled. “I’m sorry. So, baby, where do you want to have lunch?” Ethan asked.

“Anywhere would be good. I don’t have much time today. Unless you want to make it after two o’clock.”

“Anytime, Sophia. I would like to take you somewhere else after.”

“Where? What for?”

“Surprise, baby. So, where do you want to have lunch?”

“China Tang at The Dorchester,” Sophia raised her brows at Edward, smiling. “Sound good?”

“Splendid. Shall I pick you up at a quarter to two?”

“I said two o’clock, Ethan. I can’t make it earlier today. Will that be okay?”

“Yes, Ms. Santo, ma’am, fine,” he mocked. “Don’t forget to leave some spare time for me after, all right? The whole afternoon, if you can. See you at two.”

Edward smiled at her when Ethan hung up. “He’s eating out of the palm of your hand, Sophia. Completely smitten.”

Sophia made a face at him. “Now, where were we?”


Outside The Dorchester Hotel.

4.03 p.m.

“You got me drunk, Mr. Ashford.” Sophia giggled. “I’m not fit to go back to work like this.”

“Good. I missed you during the weekend. I want to make up for it today.”

His driver opened the door to his Rolls-Royce Phantom Black-tie Edition.

“Wilkins, we’re going to one hundred sixty-five Sloane Street.” Ethan accommodated his long body on the seat and closed the partition between them and the driver. “Promise me you won’t get mad?” He turned sideways and framed her face, his azure eyes sparkling.

“Mad? Why would I get mad?” She looked at him, befuddled.

“Promise me,” he insisted and she nodded, smiling.

“Hmm. Whatever.” She flicked her hand, “I promise.” And giggled. “You really got me tipsy. Why are we going to Sloane Street? I don’t need more clothes.”

“No more clothes,” he agreed. “For now.”

“Aren’t you mysterious, Mr. Ashford?”

“I want another promise from you, Sophia. You’re going to spend the night with me.”

Sophia sobered on the spot. “Tonight?” Oh, damn. Gabriela! I must tell him sometime. How long can I keep it from him? She bit her lip.

“Please, baby?” he huskily asked and his thumb caressed her mouth with a light touch. “You have to stop doing this.” His mouth descended to conquer her lips in a sensuous kiss. He twisted her long braid on his wrist, keeping her pinned to him. “Promise me, Sophia.”

“Ethan… I can’t. Tomorrow, I promise.”

“So be it,” he sighed. “But spend this afternoon with me. Wilkins can take you home after dinner,” he offered.

“Before dinner. Seven o’clock.” She kissed him lightly. “It’s the best I can do.”

“Are you going out this evening?” His demeanor darkened.

“No. I have a contract to review.” Yeah, she’s a blonde, blue-eyed three-year-old contract.

The car parked in front of a brick building. Ethan leaped out and held his hand for Sophia.

“Remember your promise,” he insisted as Sophia stepped on the pavement and looked around warily. “Shall I blindfold you?”

“Blindfold me? What for? I promised I wouldn’t get mad and you said we weren’t going shopping.”

“I said we weren’t buying more clothes,” he corrected and guided her by the hand in the direction of a jewelry shop.

Sophia planted her heels on the ground.

“You won’t make a scene in the middle of Sloane Street, will you?” He stared back at her. “You promised.”

“Ethan… Please. There is no need for this.” His generosity and domineering behavior distressed her. At Christmas, he had already given her a whole set of jewels. “I don’t feel comfortable with so many gifts.”

“Indulge me, please, baby,” he asked her sweetly.

How can I say no? She let him tow her into the shop.

The instant they entered it, a beautiful woman came to greet them with a big smile on her face.

“I’m Ethan Ashford,” he smiled and the woman melted at his charm. “We have an appointment with Mr. Arkade.”

“Of course. He’s expecting you, Mr. Ashford.” The woman eyed Sophia speculatively, taking notice of her purple three quarter sleeve wool dress from Carolina Herrera with a deep V-neckline and classic multicolored patchwork bag, black lambskin high heel booties, and long black lambskin gloves from Chanel. She opened a door at the end of the shop and motioned them to follow. “May I take your coats?” Sophia handed her dark gray overcoat trimmed with purple and lilac fox fur and Ethan gave her his black one. “Please, be seated. Mr. Arkade will be here in a moment. Would you like something to drink?”

I don’t need jewels, Ethan. I have so many that Gabr-Understanding dawned on her when she remembered his words on the restaurant. This is jealousy and it’s absolutely ridiculous, Ethan. It’s abuse. You’re trying to dictate what I can wear while I am with you. “Still water, please.” Sophia took off her gloves.

“The same for me.” Ethan smiled at the woman who grinned at him, bewitched by his charm.

“Is it always like this?” asked Sophia, amused.

“Like what?” he frowned.

“Women falling at your feet?” She giggled. “Oh, my. I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” She put a hand on her mouth. “Mr. Ashford, you’re a danger to my sanity.”

He grinned at her. “The only woman I’m interested in is here in this room.” His blue eyes flamed. “Let me see your watch.”

She extended her arm for him to look at her Franck Muller Aeternitas Mega Four with rubies.

“Take it off, please,” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Why not?” He frowned. “Is it a fake?”

“Of course not.” She replied with indignation. “It’s a work of art.”

“Yes, it is. It is one of the most complex wristwatches in the world, looked at in three hundred and sixty degrees.” He eyed her sideways, “Please?”

Sophia relented.

As he turned the watch, he noticed an engraving on the leather bracelet.


‘Para G., o amor da minha vida.

Eternamente sua, S. 27/09/2002.’


“What is written here?” he asked.

Oh, damn. Mr. Jealousy is about to enter the room. “For G., the love of my life. Forever yours, S.”

He stiffened. “Who is G?”

She sighed. “My late husband.”

His hand closed around the watch, his knuckles white. “You got married when you were eighteen years old?” he thundered.

“Ethan… Please.” She opened her hand to receive the watch back.

“You didn’t answer my question.” His anger was boiling.

“I married when I was seventeen. On September the twenty-seventh, two thousand one.”

“You were a child. How old was he?” His azure eyes were bright.