“I don’t have my instruments here and, seriously, Sophia, I’d prefer if you did this with a plastic surgeon, in a hospital; then you can have the necessary tests.”

“Leave this to me, Walter. Please, call the doctor. And I’ll take her to the hospital. It doesn’t matter the cost.” To Sophia, he ordered, “Don’t behave like a child, Sophia. Here, let me hold this.” He took the towel from her hand and pressed it on her forehead. “Walter is a great doctor, but this is not his specialty. I don’t want you to have another scar. The sickening one your husband gave you is more than enough.”

What? Sophia was astonished by a heartbeat before her anger boiled and spilled.

“You bastard! How dare you?” Sophia pushed up to a sitting position and swatted Ethan’s hand away with force, flinging the towel far across the room, scattering ice on the rug. She swayed as dizziness came over her, but held strong. Her eyes flared and she said in an ominous voice, “Back off, Ethan. Back. Off. Don’t you ever mention my husband again! I’m fed up. It’s over.” She added in a low voice, “I don’t need you to pay for anything. Understood?” She turned to John, blood flowing over her eye and on the side of her face. “Call the best plastic surgeon that can come here. I,” she stressed the word, “will pay for his services. I don’t care what it costs.”

Alistair was impressed with the evident defiance and strength in someone so much smaller than Ethan. Not a submissive, is she? She’s clearly not afraid of Ashford. All this to defend a dead man. If only Heather had shown half the same loyalty and love for me.

John pressed a hand to her shoulder, laying her down again. He picked up another towel and pressed it on the gash, while he cleaned the blood with another. “Stay down. Ethan, make room.” He looked up at Alistair. “Help me here, hold this, and if she moves, hold her down, too.”

Ethan paced away from the sofa, unsteady and dizzy. He poured himself a whisky and downed it in a gulp. Jesus! JESUS! Sophia just broke up with me.

Alistair leaned over her and pushed her hair away, in a caress, pressing down the towel again. “Stay still,” he commanded, the order softened by his murmur.

“Yes,” she mumbled and closed her eyes.

Ethan poured himself another drink and rolled it around in the glass, “Oh, come on, Sophia, darling. Let me pay for it. These kinds of services aren’t covered by health insurance-”

“Shut the fuck up, Ashford! She’s Gabriel Leibowitz’s widow.” Alexander’s statement set in and a silence descended on the room, except for the low murmur of John’s voice as he spoke on the phone.

Sophia’s face blanched, her entire body turned cold, and her eyes flew open. “Oh, no!” she moaned. She looked up to regard Alistair’s face. He was stunned. She begged forgiveness with her eyes before moving her stare to Alexander.

“You know me?” she asked in a whisper. Oh, God, what am I going to say now? Why didn’t I heed Edward’s advice?

“Yes. I recognized you when you stepped into the library, yesterday.” Alexander confirmed. “I work in the same field as your late husband. Or should I say, yours. Gabriel’s death was a tragedy reported worldwide. And you’re hard to forget, Sophia.”

“Should I take this as an insult or a compliment?” She tried to lighten the mood.

“You remember the ball Leibowitz Oil gave? Four years ago, I think. I was working at one of your competitors back then, United Petroleum.” He raked his fingers through his dark brown hair. “Half the men in the ballroom were in love with you the minute you walked in on Gabriel’s arm.” He grinned at her. “The other half, I suppose, was gay.”

Sophia started to laugh, but just as she dropped her head back on the pillow, a pained gasp escaped her throat.

“If you don’t behave, I will take you to a hospital now,” John admonished. “Change the towels and keep pressure, Alistair. Dr. Longman is on his way. I expect him here in about thirty minutes, forty-five minutes tops. Do you want some painkillers?”

“Please.”

“I’ll ask Elena for some. Alice, if you could draw the curtains a little bit, it will help. There’s too much light in here.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell us who your husband was? Who you really are?” Leonard asked, a hurt look on his face. “Why did you lie? I thought you considered me your friend.”

Sophia bit her lip. Oh, damn. They deserve some explanations.

Alice sat by Sophia’s head and raised an eyebrow at her brother, looking pointedly at his hand, which still gripped Sophia’s.

What? Alistair sustained the look and entwined their fingers, in an explicit demonstration of his stubborn will. Alice rolled her eyes heavenward.

Sophia emitted a long, audible breath when Alistair laced his fingers with hers and felt a tranquility spreading to her soul. Drawing courage and strength from him, she tried to explain it the best way she could.

“I am Sophia Santo. Sophia Gonçalves Espírito Santo. Or rather, I was before I married Gabriel and took his name. When he died I managed to get a court order to change all my documents back to my maiden name because- Oh, it’s a mess!” She sighed lengthily and closed her eyes. Never in her whole life had she felt so ashamed. “I have many reasons for all this. First of all, for safety. I was shot. Gabriel was kidnapped and murdered. The criminals knew all our schedules, Gabriela’s included. They had connections with a drug cartel. In Venezuela, Colombia, the States, and who knows where else. As soon as I was able to fly, I fled to protect my daughter. One of the reasons I chose England was because there was a major branch of Gabriel’s company here. From here, I could easily control the company’s profits, projects, and worldwide staff. Besides,” she opened her eyes and gazed around, making eye contact with everyone in the room, ending with Alistair’s wondrous green eyes. “I don’t need anyone liking me because I’m rich. There is more to me than just my damn money. Now, I only give my married name when it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t want anyone to find me and I don’t need to impress anyone.” She exhaled, searching Alistair’s face looming above her for a clue of his feelings. Poker-faced. Damn! How does he control his features like this? “I can only apologize and hope you understand. It was, and still is, a matter of survival.” She squeezed and let go of Alistair’s hand, feeling bereft at the loss of his warmth.

He scowled at her and gently enveloped her hand again in his broad one, without a word of explanation.

The room was silent again, each one of them immersed in their own thoughts.

Sophia searched for Alice. “Please, Alice, I need to make a phone call.”

“No way,” answered John, returning to the room with the painkillers and a glass of water, “Here, take these.”

She struggled to rise on an elbow but the room was spinning.

Immediately, Alistair took the pills from John, put a hand on her back to help her drink the water, and then lowered her again so gently that Sophia felt tears welling in her eyes. He stayed seated by her waist, not even making room for the doctor. “You stay right where you are,” he murmured to her, in his deep, low voice, the sound of it enveloping her in a cocoon of maleness.

“Please, I’m expected in London for an urgent meeting,” she informed. “I need to make a phone call.”

Alistair narrowed his eyes. “Is that true?”

She exhaled, “There’s been a explosion at one of the platforms in Rio.”

“Christ,” Alistair said and offered, “Do you want me to place the call for you?”

“Please. My iPhone is inside my bag. Look for Edward Davidoff’s mobile phone number.”

“I’ll do it for her. I know Davidoff,” interceded Alexander. “Ah, Sophia? Who should I say is calling?”

“Just Sophia.” She started to smile remembering “just Chambers,” but her face and head throbbed too much. She bit her lip to control the pain.

Alistair noticed the movement at once. Delicately, he squeezed her hand again, sharing his warmth and support.

“Davidoff? Alexander Allenthorp. Hold on a second. I’m passing you over to Sophia.” He handed her the cell phone.

She mouthed “Thanks.”

“Edward?” Closing her eyes, she continued, “Hello, again. I’m sorry but you will have to conduct the meeting alone. I’m not going to London. You see, I had, ah, an accident. I cut my forehead, badly.” She paused as she listened to him. “Yeah, unfortunately. A nasty cut.” She listened for a while, “I don’t know, just a sec.” Sophia looked at John. “Do you think I could work tomorrow?”

John stared at her, gravely. “I’m not a specialist but I wouldn’t recommend work for a few days. That looks like a serious injury. You will need to have some exams done before you can go back to work.”

“Edward, keep me informed.” She inhaled deeply. “If I’m feeling better I’ll return later today or tomorrow morning.” She relaxed as she heard his long response. “All right. Thank you, Edward, I don’t know what I would do without you,” she quietly finished the call.

“I’m impressed,” Ethan mocked, his light brown brows lifted high on his forehead. “You’re a tough girl, darling.” Stop, Ashford, you idiot. Stop. Why are you taunting the woman you love?

Sophia flicked her eyes open and she glowered at him. “I’m a survivor. I learnt it the worst way possible.”

His expression darkened and his body went stiff. He strolled out to the garden without a word. Damn you, Calista. Why do I have such a strong reaction where children are concerned? It’s all your fault. Now I’m going to lose the only woman that has loved me because I can’t deal with her child.