“She likes him a lot, Mrs. Leibowitz, and I think he does, too,” Maria told Sophia, in Portuguese.
“So it seems, Maria.” She strolled up to them as Gabriela whispered something in Alistair’s ear and he nodded to the little girl. “How are you, Alistair?”
“Not bad.” He smiled at her. “Not bad at all. And you?”
Typical English answer. “I’m fine, thanks. Gabriela, angel, go straight to bed, all right?”
“Ah, Sophia…” He winked at Gabriela and they looked sheepishly at her, “Gabriela just told me you’ve never taken her to the zoo.” As she shook her head, he continued. “Would you like to go tomorrow?”
“Please, Mama, please,” Gabriela begged.
“You two!” Sophia cocked her head, studying the man and the girl. Don’t get too involved. But, Sophia, she will like the zoo. Very well, then. For Gabriela. “Okay. The zoo. Tomorrow.”
Gabriela threw her arms around Alistair’s neck, hugging and kissing him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” His deep laughter sounded in the night.
Sophia took her from his arms and kissed her. “Bed. Now, angel.”
The little girl ran into the house, giggling and waving.
Alistair grinned and waved back. “She is a dear.” He opened the door to his navy BMW Z4 35i for her.
“Yes, she is,” she answered looking back at the gates and waving, observing as Steven locked them behind him.
“The Z4 is the right size for someone like you.” She smiled at him as he eased his long body behind the steering wheel.
“Aye. It’s quite difficult for me to fit inside sports cars. It is very rare to find the car I desire.”
She smiled eyeing his long legs and broad shoulders. “I can imagine. Do you fit in a McLaren?”
“The Mercedes?” His eyes sparkled. “I do, but it’s more comfortable for me in the passenger’s seat.”
“Up for a ride?” She grinned mischievously at him.
“Good grief! You don’t drive one of those beasts!” He looked at her, startled.
“Why not? I told you I was a hell of a driver. It is powerful. It gives a spectacular sensation of having control and being controlled.”
Uh? “Come again?” he frowned. How do you manage that? Dominate and submit at the same time? Is this a new sexual game?
She unlaced her fingers and splayed them. “It’s like riding a stallion or a still untamed horse. You have to control it but you have to allow it to control you too. It’s like a dance, a precise balance between giving and taking. But…” Her hands snapped shut and, in a flash, opened wide again. “You can lose everything with the wrong movement. An hour driving at high speed on a windy road? It’s one of the most satisfying experiences you can have. And it wears you out. It’s orgasmic.”
His desire was running rampant. So, you like controlling, too, don’t you, Sophia? “And you drive it to work?”
“No. It turns too many heads. Sometimes, at night, when I need to unwind I go for a drive. Alone.”
“You unwind driving? Every day?”
She laughed. “No. I run, workout, swim, fence-”
“And drive alone at night through windy roads…” He leaned in, causing the muscles of his arms and shoulders to bulge and stretch his blazer.
Sophia’s mouth went dry. He was so much bigger and wider than she was. So powerful. Unbidden, her eyes moved over his frame and came back to meet his.
He gave her a knowing smile.
You are too arrogant, Mr. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it. Not good. Not good at all.
“There is no need to unwind alone behind the wheel of a car to have an orgasm, Sophia,” he murmured, sensually and leaned in further, “I can help with that.”
“An org-” she gasped. The car suddenly became smaller. “No, I said it was orgasmic.”
“Same thing.” His green eyes were burning her and he raised his hand to caress her face with his knuckles. “How long are you going to run and hide from the experiences I can provide you? Remember what I told you that afternoon in your apartment?”
“What? I don’t…” She shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
A blast from a horn startled him. The light had turned green.
Christ! Alistair Connor, pay attention. Alistair pumped the gas and Sophia changed the subject.
“So, Mr. President of Scotland,” she mocked, he smiled, “you were born there, weren’t you?”
“Aye, in the Highlands, Inverness. My father is a Highlander and my mother was English, so we used to travel a lot to London with her. That’s why I don’t have such a strong accent.”
“Do you go there often?”
“I have to. Not only because of the bank but also because I have a stable there.”
They arrived at the restaurant and a liveried doorman opened the door for Sophia, momentarily interrupting the conversation.
Hélène Darroze at The Connaught.
8.19 p.m.
“We’ll have some champagne,” Alistair informed the sommelier, who handed him the champagne list. He surveyed the list quickly and smiled to himself. Sophia, I’ll have you by the end of this evening. “Krug. Clos D’Ambonnay, please.”
Sophia waited for the sommelier to step away and turned on the sofa to look at Alistair, “What a coincidence. That’s my favorite champagne.”
“You have good taste. It’s mine, too,” he answered with a smile, putting his arm over the back of the sofa, his fingers brushing her hair.
Sophia stiffened a bit, but it didn’t deter Alistair from delving his fingers in her silky black tresses, the tip of his fingers caressing her nape.
Sophia shifted on the sofa, getting away from his hand and he let his fingers fall from her neck.
“When did you move?”
“Last week. But I can’t say I have really moved. I should say that I’m camping,” she smiled. “But I couldn’t wait anymore. I was impatient and it’s easier to supervise everything from there. It’s almost finished, it just needs a few final touches.”
“Why did you move? Your apartment was big enough for a single woman and a child. And it was beautifully decorated.”
“Yeah, it was nice. But Kensington Palace Gardens is… perfect. No traffic or strangers allowed; in a good neighborhood; near everything,” she shrugged. “And there is a garden behind the house. Gabriela can play outdoors and be safe there.”
“Didn’t you have access to the private gardens in Eaton Square?”
“Yes, I did,” she nodded.
“And still you didn’t think she would be safe there?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” she shrugged.
His green eyes searched hers, trying to glimpse beneath the cool façade she presented. “Don’t you feel lonely there?”
She looked away from his prying eyes, thinking about his question. Yes, I feel lonely. Very much. Everywhere I go. Even in a place full of people. She turned her face back to him and, staring into his eyes, answered in a soft voice, “Alistair, she is the most important thing in my life. I can’t afford to put her safety at risk. I would do anything for her. Anything. If, quote, isolating myself and living alone, unquote, in an enormous house is the price to pay for keeping Gabriela happy and safe, I dare say it is more than a bargain. It’s a free ticket to heaven.”
“Not everyone would make that sacrifice,” he replied. Do you want to sleep in my apartment today? You wouldn’t feel lonely there. I can guarantee it.
“Sacrifice? Living in Kensington Palace Gardens is no sacrifice. On the contrary.”