Cristiane Serruya - Trust: A New Beginning

Oh, please, hit me; I’ll hit you, too. He almost moaned. “If they’re the babies, I don’t want to imagine their fathers.”

“They’re just perfect.” Her face lit up. “Strong, powerful, intelligent, beautiful, and loyal companions. With a touch of wildness, like me. Always untamed,” she sighed, contently. “There’s nothing more beautiful or earthy, than a spirited horse. I do love them.”

“You do?” Alistair breathed, looking deeply into her eyes, enthralling her. “A touch of wildness? And untamed?”

“Yes,” she whispered back, “forever untamed.”

“So it’s decided, lass. A wild horse for you,” Lachlann promised, breaking the spell. “And for tomorrow, I’ll bring a spirited one for you. I hope you don’t end up with broken bones.”

“Give me her iPhone, Tavish, I want to see, too,” Alice demanded.

Sophia shook herself out of the trance Alistair put her in and looked at Lachlann. “Broken bones? Hah! You will see.”

Then her smile waned. “Ah, but I can’t go tomorrow. I haven’t brought my boots.”

“You’re not running away from this, Sophia,” Lachlann shook a finger at her. “We have riding boots here, ranging from sizes four to fifteen. For men and women.”

“Up for a race?” Alice proposed after passing Sophia’s phone to Leonard and her father, who passed it on to Elena and Alexander.

“I just love challenges.” She looked at Alistair. “You in?”

He smiled darkly at her, “Depends on the prize.”

Saturday, March 6^th, 2010.

7.27 a.m.

Craigdale Castle was quiet at that time of the morning. Alistair and Sophia strolled along the loch, hand in hand, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand.

The mysterious waters of the loch, surrounded by the misty mountains rising from the Scottish earth, plunged Sophia into a state of dreaminess and deep restfulness.

They reentered the castle through the enormous double wooden doors. “Let me show you the other rooms.” He opened the door to a beautiful room all done in blue hues. “This is the blue drawing room. It was my mother’s favorite.”

Sophia looked at the huge painting of a woman hanging over the mantel. “Your mother?”

“Aye.”

They stood there for a moment looking at the serene and beautiful dark haired woman with sparkling blue eyes painted with Craigdale Castle in the background.

“She was ravishing,” Sophia murmured, seeing great similarity between mother and son. She took in the room. “What a beautiful grand piano.” Her hand caressed the lid, longingly. Since Gabriel’s kidnapping I haven’t- She shooed the thought away.

“My mother used to play for us every night. She taught us all to play it too.”

She stared at him, “You play? You never told me.”

“We all do,” he smiled. “I love playing the piano. One day I’ll play for you. Come, we have more rooms to see and I want to parade you by the pool.”

“Parade me?” she giggled and rose her brows at him, “How dare you, Alistair Connor. I’m not a mare being shown at a county fair.”

“No,” with two steps he drew near and pulled her into his arms, “you’re not. You’re a beautiful woman. One that any man would proudly show off on his arm.” He bent his head to kiss her, crushing her in his arms and she forgot all about pianos and mares.

10.41 a.m.

Sophia opened the door of her suite after the impatient third knock.

Her mouth dried and she melted at the sight of Alistair dressed in a brown-and-red tweed hacking jacket with dark brown velvet lapels over a flannel white shirt and butterscotch breeches with leather patches on the inner sides of his knees. He was impatiently hitting his brown leather crop against his shining brown leather boots. The clothes fit his body to perfection and brought naughty thoughts to Sophia’s mind.

Oh, my! How do I ensnare this god? She breathed deeply and stepped back to let him into the anteroom, “Come in.”

Incapable of holding back, she blurted, “You look so handsome,” and threw her arms around his neck dragging him down for a kiss. Why are you always so dumb around handsome men? Sophia, Sophia, this is not the way to do it. She scolded herself and broke the kiss.

He smiled smugly, “Thanks.” He looked her over and frowned when he reached her feet, “Why are you still in socks?”

“Alistair, I… I don’t have the right clothes,” she motioned from his gear to her black studded leather jacket over a white turtleneck sweater and black faded jeans.

“You’re stalling.” Alistair dragged Sophia by the hand to an armchair. “Sit. Stay here.” He looked around, “Where are your sneakers?”

“Alistair, stop it,” she smiled amused, “I can dress myself.”

“Stay put,” he ordered. “Don’t move from that chair.” He went into the dressing room.

“Everyone is waiting for us.” His voice came from the inside the room, muffled. “Father has even brought the horses to the front door. And two pairs of boots for you to try on.” He emerged from the closet, bringing her black LV monogram sneakers and a red patterned shahtoosh. “Here. Put these on. It’s cold outside. And it doesn’t matter that you’re wearing jeans or that you don’t have the right clothes. I want to go riding with you.”

“Humpf,” she complained, lacing her sneakers. “This isn’t right.”

He hit the arm of the armchair hard with his crop startling Sophia, who craned her head to look up at him, surprised. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, “Maybe it’s not right, but it’s what I want.” He dropped onto his haunches to stare into her eyes, “And what I want, I get.” The sound of the crop hitting the armchair rhythmically rang out in the room.

Hello, Lord big-ego-Julius-Caesar! “Should I bow, say amen, or something similar, my Lord Ells?” she mocked, scooting to the edge of the armchair, caging him between her thighs.

“Aye, it’s better if you start learni-.”

Oh, please. She grabbed him by the velvet lapels and pulled him in an openmouthed, scorching kiss. He fell to his knees and his arms went around her, hauling her flush to his body, the shahtoosh, and his crop dropping from his hands behind her.

He was panting when she stopped the kiss.

She shoved the armchair back and jumped off it with an agile movement, “Dream on, my lord,” and ran away from him, waving, “dream on!”

Alistair watched dumbfounded as Sophia flew through the door, leaving him kneeling in the room. He picked up the fallen items and looked at them, daftly.

Unbidden, a smile spread on his lips and his sun shone brighter than it had in many months.

3.22 p.m.

Sophia pushed the doors to the pool lounge and looked around, searching for Alistair or Alice. No one. She entered the artfully decorated room. Palm trees in earthenware pots were placed around the high-ceilinged room. Soft music was playing in the background. The remoteness of the place appealed to her. Yes, this castle is enchanted.

She strolled to one of the lounge chairs and took off her gold and diamond Havaianas from H. Stern and the green, blue, and pink Indian sari she wore as a skirt folding and putting it in her straw bag. She started to take off the matching short jacket with long sleeves, but decided to keep it on. She looked at her watch. Why am I so damn neurotic about time? She sighed, lay down on the reclining chair, and switched on her Kindle.

So engrossed in the story, Sophia didn’t notice the door open and close, or the approaching steps.

Tavish cleared his throat, disgusted by the woman in her small bikini and barely there jacket lying on the chair.

Looking up, Sophia viewed two strong legs wearing long Vilebrequin shorts in a Bengal tiger print. A blue linen long-sleeved opened shirt showed off a spectacular torso with sculptured abs, broad chest, and shoulders. She sucked in a breath. Hot, hot, hot.

Her gaze lifted and she became acutely conscious of his turbulent stare taking in her Adriana Degreas bikini and how his brows were lifted with scorn. Oh, please, spare me. I’m not in the mood for a bullying rugged giant right now.

“There’s a shop upstairs that sells clothes and bathing suits,” he snorted.

Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward, but didn’t utter a word and turned back to her Kindle.

“So, what’s your plan? This feigned naïve behavior doesn’t fool me. No innocent young woman would hang around Alistair.”

What? Why not? She raised her brows at him and lifted her Kindle to avoid his stare, giving him the cold shoulder.

“Oh, no,” he said, walking to her side. “You won’t dismiss me as if you didn’t understand a word of what I’ve just said. I won’t be dismissed by someone like you.” And sat by her thigh.

Such a bold move startled Sophia. She snapped her Jimmy Choo Kindle cover shut and put it on the table, with a grim look on her face. She rose from her lounge chair, spine stiff, asking, “Someone like me?”

He rose carefully and circled the reclining chair. As he walked to her, trying to maintain a nonchalant pose, Sophia noticed his slight limp.

A sudden pity filled her heart, but she suffocated it deep down in her irritation.

“Why are you here?” Tavish hissed at her. “Aren’t you like the others?”

“What cryptic questions, my lord,” her voice was icy. “I came because of your father’s invitation. And how would I know how the others behaved? I can understand your words, but the manner of questioning must be old Scottish. Maybe it’s derived from your ancient barbaric Picts’ ways of torture, because I can’t make heads or tails of it. And quite frankly,” she lifted one eyebrow at him, “I don’t care.” She put on her sari and stepped away from him toward the door, too angry to care about her bag, Havaianas, and Kindle.