Alistair opened the door for her and offered his hand to help her inside his Baltic blue Range Rover.
Sophia looked down at his hand for a moment and put hers in his.
Alistair experienced the same electric shock he felt every time he touched her. Her touch is cold, trembling, soft, and delicate. Her long fingers wrapped around his hand distracting him from what he was supposed to do. He stared at her elegant hand and closed his warm fingers over hers, immediately imagining how it would feel to explore her body with his fingers.
She cleared her throat, taking him abruptly out of his dream state. He gave her a small smile and helped her enter the car.
“Hey, Fairy! Let me check this car seat!” He opened the back door of the car to recheck the car seat, the seat belt, and the harness until completely confident Gabriela was secure. Alistair got in the car himself and looked at Sophia, a haunted look on his face. “You should always double-check that her seat and seat belt are secure.” He watched Gabriela in the rearview mirror. “That car seat is too small for her.”
“That one is for sports cars. It’s made like that. It’s not too small, that’s her size,” she said, confused by the sudden change in his behavior.
“I see.” He breathed deeply and smiled at her. “What kind of music would you like?”
“Anything’s fine.” She smiled back, “From classic to hard rock,” she shrugged, “From Mozart to Thirty Seconds to Mars.”
“Mama has very nice music on her iPhone. Put something on, Mama. Please.”
“Angel, let Alistair choose the music,” she chastised.
“Oh, no, please. I want to listen to your selection.” He extended a cable to plug in her phone.
“Do it, Mother. But no operas today. Put on your running playlist.”
“Do you like opera?” Alistair asked looking quickly at Gabriela before entering a sharp curve.
“I do. We do.” Gabriela felt at home.
Gabriela likes him. Sophia selected the list her daughter had requested.
“Rihanna?” Alistair looked surprised.
“It’s for running. You don’t like this type of music?” She immediately picked up her phone, scrolling through her playlists. “I have others: Evanescence, Linkin Park, Beethoven, Ollof, Italian operas, French and Italian romantics, or Brazilian soft and pop music. Name it.”
“No, no. It’s okay. Leave the one Gabriela likes. But I wouldn’t have picked you for a fan of this kind of music. You seem…” he eyed her, “far too serious for it.”
“You say that because you never saw Mama dance and sing. No one does it better than her. She does it alone at home.”
“It’s not true. Gabriela exaggerates.” The guy will think I’m nuts. Dancing alone at home. I need to have a serious talk with Gabriela when we get home.
“It seems I’ll have to take you out dancing. Again, I have to judge for myself.”
“Hmm. Gabriela, we have a Saint Thomas in our midst. He has to see it, to believe it.”
He laughed, “I can assure you, I’m no saint.” And gazed at her, a sensual twist on his mouth.
London.
7.01 p.m.
Time seemed to fly by. The conversation flowed easily between the three of them.
“I’m not living at Eaton Square anymore. I bought a house at Kensington Palace Gardens.” No need to lie anymore. Well, at least not about this. She sighed inward. I’ll have to explain things better to Ethan and apologize.
Alistair chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, shooing away her guilty thoughts.
“I live just a block down the road. At Palace Gardens Terrace.”
“Mmm.”
“Where is your house exactly?” he asked when they passed the iron gates of the private street.
“You can stop right here.”
He parked next to the curb and helped her take out their luggage. He didn’t see but immediately two huge men dressed in dark suits approached them from inside the gates. Sophia smiled at the men and made a signal for them to wait.
“Nice place.” He studied the location. “Beautiful garden.” He had been there before, but couldn’t remember when exactly.
“Yes, it is,” she mused.
He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember when he had been there. “Need help with your luggage?” He held her hand, his fingers caressing the palm.
A shock of desire shot through Sophia’s body. She gazed at his face and there it was: that hungry look. She wetted her lips. His eyes followed the movement, a flame burning in the green.
There’s no way I’m going to invite him inside. “No, it is fine,” she said in a raspy voice and cleared her throat. “Thank you very much for the ride. I enjoyed it.”
“And I loved it! Can we plan another trip together?” Gabriela asked, totally unaware of the adults’ sizzling sexual undertow.
Alistair had to force himself to move his gaze from Sophia’s mouth to the little girl. He went down fluidly on his haunches to look at Gabriela. “Of course, Fairy. Anytime you want. Just call me.”
“I don’t have your telephone number,” she pouted. “How can I call you?”
He laughed. “This one is going to cause you trouble, Sophia.” He fished a card from his wallet. “Do you have a pen?” he asked Sophia.
She took her pen from her bag and held it to him. After writing down his cell phone and home numbers on the back of the card, he returned the pen to Sophia and handed the card to Gabriela. “Here. Now, you can call me.”
“Thank you.” She hugged and kissed him.
Alistair felt a pang in his heart. “Any time, sweetheart.” His arms went around the small body, holding her close. “Call me any time you feel like,” he whispered.
“I will.” She nodded and read the card slowly and concentratedly. “Alis-tair Co-nnor Mac-Craig, C-E-O.” She stopped there and her eyes were curious. “What’s a CEO?”
“Hey. You already know how to read?” This little girl is a wonder.
“Yes, I have a private teacher, Miss Eileen. She’s very nice,” she answered. “So, what’s a CEO?”
“A president,” Sophia simplified.
The little girl’s eyes widened. “You’re the president of Scotland?”
Alistair and Sophia laughed at Gabriela’s naïveté.
“No, sweetheart.” He grinned widely. “I’m the president of The City of London Bank. See the small name and initials here?” He pointed to a logo discretely imprinted on the top left of the card.
“President of a bank.” That impressed Gabriela. “You must be very, very important.”
He laughed again. A beautiful, easy laugh.
Gabriela doesn’t like many men. Well, she doesn’t like to make new acquaintances, period. The ease and friendship now established between her daughter and that stranger amazed Sophia. So different from her relationship with Ethan. Oh, Sophia, come now. What relationship? Ethan never liked her.
“Time to go, angel. You have to get up early tomorrow.” Sophia faced him, “Alistair, thank you again. For everything.”
He rose from the ground in a single beautiful movement and extended his hand to run his knuckles lightly over her bruised face. “You take care.” His long fingers cupped the other side of her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.
“I will. You too.”
His fingers tightened gently and he bent his head and kissed her on the lips, startling her. She blinked and breathed unevenly when he broke the light kiss.
Taking her carry-on from his hand, she put Gabriela’s bag on her shoulder. She looked up again at him, confused by his fingers still on her face.
An unreadable emotion appeared in her eyes as she freed herself from his grasp and whirled around toward home.