“I have to thank you for the ride,” Sophia smiled at Ethan. “I should have imagined that something like this could happen. We’re having such terrible and unstable weather this year.”

“Yes, we are,” he agreed. “Have you kept abreast of the floods in northern England?”

Sophia nodded.

“Awful, isn’t it?” Leonard said quietly. “My brother-in-law had serious problems on his property.”

At passport control, Ethan quirked an eyebrow at Sophia when she didn’t follow them. She just smiled back. He shrugged and followed Leonard.

The police officer did his work quickly and handed the passport back to her, with a big smile, saying, with a heavy British accent, “Bom dia.”

Really, there is nothing cuter than Portuguese spoken with an accent. Sophia grinned back, saying, “Obrigada.”

Ethan eyed her document with interest when she tucked it back in her bag.

“This way, Sophia,” he motioned.

They went through an empty corridor.

Downstairs and outside the building was a new silver-and-black Gulfstream G650. Next to the carpet on the tarmac by the stairs, the captain waited to welcome them.

At the top of the stairs, a good-looking flight attendant smiled. She wore a tight, black-and-white uniform, “Good morning, ma’am. May I take your luggage and coat?”

“Yes, thank you.” Sophia handed over her carry-on and her navy overcoat.

The attendant’s smile broadened and she melted at the sight of Ethan. “Mr. Ashford, a pleasure to see you again.”

Ethan smiled back, “Good morning, Vanessa.”

Vanessa turned to greet Leonard, “Mr. Allenthorp, good morning.”

Leonard nodded at her, “Vanessa.”

Every detail had been chosen with care. All the seats were handcrafted with genuine black leather with white-and-gray hues for the carpet and other decorative touches. It was very masculine, subtly stylish. The inside of the airplane resembled its owner.

Sophia walked past single seats facing each other. Halfway down the aisle, there was a four-place mahogany conference table with double seats on each side. She sat on one of the double seats, next to the window, putting her bag on the seat on the aisle. Leonard leveled a look at her and smiled as he noticed the maneuver, seating himself on the other side, opposite her. Sophia noted that all modern technologies were at hand, as in a fully functional office.

At the rear, a three-seat black divan with gray-and-black striped silk pillows faced a mahogany credenza topped with a wide-screen plasma TV.

“Mr. Ashford, may I fix you your drink?”

“What are you drinking, Sophia?” Ethan politely asked.

“Water. Sparkling, thank you.”

“The same for me, Ashford,” Leonard added.

“Vanessa, please, water for Mrs. Santo and Mr. Allenthorp. The usual for me,” he leaned on the table, two big hands flattened, to look at Sophia. “Want a tour before takeoff?”

“A tour?” She eyed him, amused, a playful smile on her lips. “What for?”

“I can show you the cockpit and” his eyes flashed, “the stateroom.” He ended in a husky voice, “It’s quite comfortable.”

Sophia laughed to hide her embarrassment, “No, thank you. I’m good here.”

He cocked one eyebrow at her, but said nothing more, easing his six foot three stature on the seat beside Leonard.

The flight attendant served the water and a tomato juice for Ethan, put some mixed nuts and canapés on the table between them, and vanished from the cabin. The captain announced takeoff. It was smooth and elegant.

“Portuguese, aren’t you?” Ethan said with sureness, starting the conversation.

She laughed, shaking her head.

“No?” He was puzzled, “But your passport… Your answer to the officer…”

“So?” She raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

Sophia could see that Leonard, documents in front of him and head lowered, was paying attention to the conversation.

“All right,” she blurted. “Let’s see if you can guess where I’m from, one chance each.”

Instantly, Leonard’s head came up from the documents. “This isn’t fair. Three each.”

“Uh-uh. One.”

“Two,” said Ethan.

“Hmm. Five guesses,” she mused, “the odds might turn against me.”

“Five?”

“Yes, Ashford. You have already said she’s from Portugal.”

“Well, wasn’t it obvious?”

“Nothing is obvious in life, Mr. Ashford,” said Sophia smiling, with mischief. “But, let’s make a deal. If you don’t guess, and mind you, you’re not going to, I’ll give you one more chance each, agreed?”

“Agreed,” they said at the same time.

“And if we win, Sophia?” Ethan asked hoarsely. “What’s the prize? Willing to wager a dinner with the winner?”

“As I’m sure you’re not going to win, let’s settle for lunch, us three. No winner. Deal?”

“Deal. Please, call me Ethan.”

“Mr. Allenthorp, you’re willing to go first?”

She was having a good time. She couldn’t believe her luck. She had succeeded in going to Geneva, in a luxury private plane in the company of such interesting men.

“Okay. Let’s see… Not Portuguese. Although with a Portuguese passport. With clear Latin heritage. I would say you’re… Italian.”

“Good, Mr. Allenthorp. Very good. But, no!”

She turned to Ethan, waiting.

“Not Portuguese, not Italian. Very black hair, light skin, hazel almond eyes.” He narrowed his eyes and grinned at her, “Curvaceous, sexy.” He mused, “Hmm… I dare say Spanish.”

“Why! Thank you,” she giggled. “But you’re far from it, Mr. Ashford.”

“It’s Ethan. Drop the Mr. Ashford.”

“Told you that you wouldn’t guess.” She smiled. “One more chance each. Think carefully before you answer.”

“Not Portuguese, Italian, or Spanish. I’d bet that you’re not from the Nordic countries,” Leonard looked at her, assessing her face. “Not American, for sure.” He paused. Observed her again and whispered to himself, “No, it can’t be. Skin is too light. Speaks perfect English, without an accent.”

“Greek,” Ethan guessed and he shook his head to dislodge the beautiful face that appeared in his mind, making acid burn in his throat.

Sophia smiled, “I’m flattered. Greek women are known for their beauty. But, again no.” Her mouth twisted at the corners. “Mr. Allenthorp, you still have one more chance.”

“Please, just Leonard,” he waved his hand, distractedly, his eyebrows furrowed, immerse in thought.

“Come on, Allenthorp,” Ethan coached.

He wasn’t really sure, but he went for it any way, “Brazilian. Rio de Janeiro or São Paulo.”

She stared at him, openmouthed, “Why, yes. Exactly. Rio. How did you guess?”

“My dear, in my profession we have to be very attentive to detail. You hinted I made a point when I alleged Italian. You have a Portuguese passport. I started putting the pieces together. Where are there lots of Portuguese and Italians? South America. Brazil. You do look like a Carioca that has been out of the sun for a long time. Except you dress like a Paulista.”

“Impressive, Leonard, impressive,” she murmured. “Have you been to Brazil before?”

“Well, I have that advantage,” he smiled at her. “I’ve been there three times; first to Rio on my honeymoon and twice later to São Paulo for work. Why do you have a Portuguese passport?”

“Two of my grandparents are Portuguese and they’ve lived in Brazil since they were children. I also have Italian heritage somewhere on both my parents’ lines.”

“Your husband is also Brazilian?” Leonard asked.

Sophia blanched, her face turned ashen and her right hand shot to grab her upper left arm. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. When she opened them, the raw pain that simmered on them surprised the men.

She managed a weak smile, “I’m not married. Not anymore.” She took another deep breath, “I’m a widow.”

Leonard looked at her with sympathy in his eyes, “I’m sorry, Sophia, you look too young to be a widow. Nonetheless, you use a band on your left finger.”

She gave a strangled laugh, “Death doesn’t ask your age when it decides to strike.” She gave him a small smile, “As far as my marriage band is concerned, it helps keep men at bay.”

He looked at her for a few seconds. “Maybe.” Then returned his attention to the documents.

“So, Sophia, you live in Brazil?”

Grateful for the change in the conversation, she replied, “No, Mr. Ashford, I live in London.”

“We’ve returned to the Mr. Ashford thing, haven’t we?

“Sorry. Ethan,” she acquiesced.

“And where do you study?”

Sophia laughed out loud with such enthusiasm, that Ethan frowned at her.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m not a student anymore. Well, not an undergraduate student,” she smiled. “I’m Mr. Allenthorp’s colleague,” she jutted her chin at Leonard.

Again Leonard’s head came up, “Leonard. I think you’ve turned the tables, I’m at a disadvantage now.”

She laughed mischievously. “You see, Leonard, we have crossed paths in court.”

“Impossible. I would have remembered you.”

“Oh,” she mocked, “should I thank you for this remark?”

“Of course. You’re a beautiful woman.”

“Now, I’m offended.” She rolled her eyes. “I prefer to be remembered by my intelligence and wit.”

He laughed. “Sorry, Sophia.” He shuffled his documents together, giving up his work and putting it away so Ethan could close the table.

Ethan closed the table. Rearranging himself on the seat, he crossed his legs, the right ankle resting on the left knee.

“So, pray tell, where have you been spying on me?”