He almost said, “Yes,” but a look on her face prevented it. More mixed signals, Sophia? Does the idea of a threesome make you horny?


Piccadilly, The Athenaeum.

4.49 p.m.

Their arrival at 116 Piccadilly saved Alistair from answering as the liveried doorman opened the car door.

I can provide a hot blonde in five minutes and we could go upstairs to a suite, forfeiting tea. His shy sunray hid behind the dark clouds. Never let it be said I don’t-

A tug on his sleeve interrupted his lascivious and dark thoughts.

“Is everything okay?” Sophia looked at his drawn features with a confused expression.

Stop this, Alistair Connor. He shook himself briskly. “Aye,” he rocked his neck to one side and then the other, running a hand over his nape to relax the tension. “Yes, everything is okay.” He put her hand in the crook of his arm. “Just a little tense.” He squeezed her hand and smiled at her when she remained quiet.

Sophia raised her eyebrow and glanced away, taking in the beautiful marble hall. “I asked Sarah to make the reservations in your name,” she informed him, feeling strangely subdued.

“Thanks,” he answered dryly, lost in his thoughts.

They approached a beautiful blonde waiting at the corner of the entrance to the Garden Room. “MacCraig, two people, and we would like a table overlooking the garden if possible.” Alistair’s preoccupation stopped him from noticing the warm smile the receptionist gave him.


“Sophia.” Her name, pronounced in a low tone of command, stopped her midway down to her armchair. She looked up and he motioned with his left hand, “On the sofa, please.” He sat beside her on the plush settee and accepted the menus, passing one to her.

“We’re ready to order,” he scanned the menu quickly. “I’ll have the Evergreen Tea with Earl Grey. The lady will have The Regent Park Honey Tea.” He closed his menu and looked at Sophia. “What is your choice of tea?”

“Soom, thank you,” she told the receptionist handed her the menu.

“Thank you, ma’am. Your tea will be here in a few minutes.” The receptionist left their sitting area disappointed that the handsome man hadn’t even looked in her direction or given her a smile.

“Soom?” Alistair shifted to better look at Sophia and twirled her long braid with his fingers, letting the silky touch soothe his mind.

“It’s a rare Darjeeling black only produced from the first flush in March. I like a light afternoon tea,” she answered absentmindedly. “Alistair, what’s the problem?”

“Nothing. Pay me no heed, I had a strange afternoon,” he lied and changed the subject abruptly. “I accepted my father’s invitation to go to Craigdale Castle tomorrow for the weekend. It’s my brother’s birthday. Something small, just family, since he doesn’t want a party.”

“Oh, really?” she inquired and he answered with a small nod. “I’ll miss you.”

“Miss me?” he frowned. “You’re going with me,” he informed, succinctly.

She paused, mid-breath. “I. Am. Going?” The sentence baffled her. Is this an order, Alistair Connor? Another one?

“Aye. My father has been pestering me to bring you. Seems that Alice and Leonard have been gossiping.”

There it is again. That ghost of a smile. What does it mean? “Hmm…” He wants to introduce me to his father and younger brother? She wondered if this was good or bad. Really, Sophia? Still wondering? “I can’t leave Gabriela this weekend.” Lying now? She felt guilt filling her up.

I’m afraid. She acknowledged, aggravated.

“The thought never crossed my mind. Of course she’ll come with us.” The tightness of his features lessened when his lips curled in a beautiful smile. “She’s got me wrapped around her little finger.”

And I’m wrapped around yours. She crossed her legs and leaned back on the arm of the sofa away from him, chewing her lips. “I’m not so sure about this.” Her braid fell away from his hand.

“What do you mean?” Alistair felt her withdrawing and became alert. He bent in her direction and recaptured her long braid, this time coiling it securely around his wrist possessively.

“Well… It’s going to be a family gathering. I don’t want to intrude. It’s your brother’s birthday and I-”

She halted as a waiter arrived with the special finger sandwiches of honey roasted ham and caramelized golden cross goat’s cheese, freshly baked orange blossom scones, and toasted crumpets with the Regents Park honey, homemade jam, lemon curd, and Devonshire clotted cream. He served their tea. Sophia’s mouth watered and she licked her lips.

Alistair almost shuddered with repressed desire. “You were saying?” he asked as soon as the waiter left.

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. Her thumb and index finger unconsciously caressed the place where her wedding ring should be. “That I’m not going.” She didn’t look at him and she tapped her boot nervously on the floor.

The waiter returned with a selection of pastries including bird cookies, fairy cakes with sugar flowers, and mixed fruit tartlets arranged on a three-tier silver tray. Alistair almost barked at him to go away.

“You’re. Not. Going.” His voice dark as he scowled at her fingers’ movements. “I don’t understand you, Sophia.” He shook his head hard and his hair flew around him.

“It’s too soon-”

“It’s not soon, Sophia. I’m going,” he informed and heard her sigh, “And you’re going with me. Period.” Don’t you dare say no.

She looked down at her hands and caught the telltale caress, which startled her. She stole a peek at him; he was once again poker-faced, watching her right fingers toying with the base of her left ring finger.

She leaned over to pick up a scone and spread lemon curd on it. She bit into it, turning her face away to look at the garden, avoiding his eyes. What should I do? What should I do? For the first time, she felt very much afraid and unsure. You idiot! Say yes! Contrasting sweet and sour flavors exploded on her tongue, but were lost on Sophia as she debated with herself.

She wavered in her decision, “I have a long day tomorrow.” He wants to take you to his childhood home. He has been respecting you so far. A perfect gentleman. He’s doing everything right and you’re still undecided, Sophia?

“I’m sure your boss will allow you to leave early.” His hand held her braid again and tugged at it, a touch of savagery in it, before releasing it to pick up his cup of tea.

“I’m not free before two o’clock, though,” she ceded. “Is that okay? What time is the flight?”

He smiled and his green eyes flickered. He quickly schooled his expression.

Good, very good. He felt a hard slam in his chest. I’m… happy? He didn’t really understand his infatuation and the happiness filling him upon her acceptance. So unforeseeable was that happiness, it left him unprepared for his heartbeats stirring alive again. His heart, dead for so long, beat strongly and it disconcerted Alistair. Unsettled by the feeling, he leaned in and kissed her, letting desire and lust override the other emotion.

“We’re in a restaurant.” She pushed him away when the kiss got too heated.

He smiled at her. “We’re concealed. The curtains are very well placed.”

“Nonetheless, I’d rather you behaved,” she scolded.

“Okay.” He put his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “I can pick up Gabriela and your luggage first and then you.”

“Thanks. You’re a saint.”

“Beauty,” he curled his fingers under her chin and lifted it, compelling her to look at him. “I’ve already told you, I’m not a saint. Not at all,” he said.

A short, dark laugh escaped his chest. A deep, masculine sound that made her respond with a shudder.

“By the way, the two of us are going out tonight. I made reservations for us at nine o’clock.”

“Where?”

“Surprise.” His enchanting smile showed that his unpredictable mood had changed.

From darkness to light in seconds. “Why do men always do this?” She huffed. “How can I dress accordingly if I don’t know where I’m going?”

“Do you want to know the dress code of the restaurant?”

“Sure.”

“It is as beautiful and elegant as Sophia is.”

“You- you-”

He laughed. “Yes? I, what?”

“Oh, forget it.” She sipped her tea. “Just forget it.”

Chapter 15

Atwood House.

6.30 p.m.

When Sophia arrived home Gabriela hopped from one foot to the other. “Mama, are we going? Are we?”

“Good evening, my angel. How was your day?” Sophia said, smiling at the girl’s happiness.

Gabriela looked contrite. “Sorry, Mother. Good evening. How was your day?”

“Fine, thank you. And yours?”

“Great!” She started jumping again. “Ariadne called me to say that her grandfather had invited us to Craigdale Castle. She says it’s huuuuuge.”

Sophia smiled at the excited girl. “Yes, dear. Alistair’s going to pick you up tomorrow before picking me up. Be ready by one thirty, all right?”

“Yes, I will. Mama, Uncle Felipe called. He’s going to call again tomorrow.”

Sophia took a long, luxuriant bath with Fragment di Perle bath salts by Simone Cosac Profumi. She blow-dried her hair and brushed it. She took special care with her eye makeup and dressed in a dark purple silk tank top and a matching pencil skirt. On her waist, she wore a dark brown Hermes belt with a silver H buckle. Bare legs. Her feet were encased in tall bronze sandals by Marc Jacobs. She sprayed perfume in the air and walked thought its cloud. She looked in the mirror and smiled at the young vibrant woman reflected there. Her smile broadened and she whirled on her heels, happy.