Sophia looked at Andrew, “What did he say?”
“Sophia,” Andrew chuckled, “I haven’t the faintest idea.”
“He said that one is more than enough,” Alice explained. “Our nanny was a fierce Highlander and she only spoke Gaelic with us.”
“How are you able to understand them?” Sophia asked, astonished.
“Practice,” Leonard replied and shrugged. “And sometimes I don’t. When this happens, I just say to Alice, ‘Yes, my love’ or ‘Of course, my flower’ and she calms down.”
“Ah! You…” Alice hurled a cushion at Leonard. He caught the cushion in his hands, throwing his head back in a happy laugh.
“Alice,” Alistair dragged Alice with him to another sofa, “while Leo discloses to Sophia all of my dark secrets,” he stared at Sophia, his eyes blistered with the desire that consumed his insides and he threatened, “you can tell me all the gossip your husband told you about the bonnie lass.”
Now it was time for Sophia to laugh. “No dark secrets in my past,” she retorted.
Then her eyes darkened and a strange look transformed her face, a completely different woman appeared in front of them. A dark avenging angel. “At least, none that he knows.”
Salisbury Plain, Stonehenge.
Saturday, February 27th, 2010.
07.45 a.m.
“Wait, Sophia,” Alistair gripped her hand. “Wait for Munro to let you out. The propeller is quite dangerous.”
Sophia smiled at his protectiveness, “I’m used to it, Alistair.” She opened the door and jumped graciously out of his EC145 Mercedes-Benz helicopter. Somehow Alistair managed to buy it before its May unveiling at the Geneva Business Aviation Convention and Exposition.
“Your mother is quite stubborn, isn’t she, Fairy?” He shook his head, aggravated, and unbuckled Gabriela’s harness.
“No, she is not,” Gabriela answered immediately. “She’s courageous and wise. Not stubborn.”
Alistair smiled at the child’s prompt defense of her mother and picked the little girl up in his arms. “Ready for some mystery, Fairy?”
“Yes,” she smiled at him. “I love legends and mysteries.”
Garrick drove them to Stonehenge. Inside the circle, a uniformed guide escorted them on a private tour inside the circle.
“Do you know who King Arthur was, Gabriela?” Alistair watched her little face and she nodded. “So, according to legend, a long, long time ago, there was a very ugly war here between the British and the Saxons. The Saxons killed lots of English soldiers and buried them in Salisbury Plain.”
“Poor guys.” Gabriela listened with rapt attention. “And?” she asked eagerly.
“King Aurelius Ambrosius, Arthur’s uncle, wanted to build a monument to the slain soldiers. A big one, to represent their bravery. So he enlisted the help of Merlin, the wizard, who told him about an existing stone circle in Ireland. King Aurelius sent his brother, Uther Pendragon, and Merlin to the Giants’ Dance which is on Mount Killaraus in Ireland.”
“What is the Giants’ Dance?”
“These stones,” he motioned his hand to the enormous monument, “they were giants who were turned into stone for celebrating the Sabbath.”
“Why?” The little girl frowned at him, confused, “the Shabbat is sacred.”
Alistair smiled at her and put a curl of blonde hair, which the cold wind blew out of her ponytail, behind her ear. “It’s the Sabbath, not the Shabbat. They were celebrating a pagan god.”
“Oh.”
“So Merlin magically transported them on smooth winds and reset the stones here. There. Magic, you see.” Alistair struggled to restore order to his strands falling over his eyes because of the wind.
“I told you,” Gabriela thrust her little fingers in his hair, keeping it away from his eyes, “you have to cut your hair.”
The sun rose above the horizon painting the monument and the ground with yellow, orange, and pink hues.
Sophia breathed in the frigid morning air, the perfect interaction between Gabriela and Alistair scaring the hell out of her. Is this for real?
Chapter 14
10.26 a.m.
The early morning wind had waned into a soft breeze that still tousled Alistair’s long black hair, toying with it. Some bangs fell over his forehead and eyes. Sophia lifted her hand to touch the silky strands, brushing them to uncover his eyes.
“I have to cut it, as Gabriela keeps reminding me,” he smiled.
“You know, Gabriela may think your hair is too long, but I like it this way. Don’t ever cut it short,” she ordered lightly.
Alistair nodded. “I won’t,” and he wound his left fingers in her very long hair until he held a fistful at her nape, “as long you keep yours like this.”
“Done,” she grinned, a mischievous look entering her eyes. “Your hair, it is… savage, long. Rebellious. Apart from your eyes-your beautiful, wondrous eyes,” she sighed, enchanted, “it’s this cut that gives away the… barbarian inside you.”
He blinked, startled.
She entwined her fingers in it and pulled his head down. “It reminds me of the legend of Highlander warriors. No control over emotions… Fierce, courageous men, a battle cry on their lips.”
“Legend? We’re not a legend.” And his hand brushed her hair back, exposing her throat. “You like barbarians? Savages?” He raised his eyebrow as his fingers caressed the column of her neck. Oh, Sophia, what I could do to you.
“I like intense men,” she whispered.
She breathed and parted her lips, nervously wetting them with the tip of her tongue.
It was everything he needed. He took full advantage of her opened lips, touching her mouth with a feathery kiss, his tongue meeting hers.
Melting on his body, her elegant hands, light and delicate, tangled in his hair.
He stood there for a moment, simply enjoying her taste and smell. Her tentative touch on his nape undid him.
His hands went down to her waist, so slim. He jerked her to his body, pressing her to him and devouring her mouth. He thrust his tongue deep, mimicking what he wanted to do with his body. His pulse fiercely pounded in his ears, his erection grew painfully hard.
Sophia broke the kiss, panting, “Gabriela-” Her eyes were burning light yellow with a multitude of emotions: desire, worry, fear.
Alistair looked over his shoulder at the little girl bundled on his overcoat on the grass. “She’s sleeping.” And once more dropped his head to kiss her. Her taste was like a drug he wanted to be addicted to.
All thoughts flew away as their tongues danced and he felt her pliant body leaning heavily against his hard, chiseled form. Her scent branded him. A hand pulled her even closer, wandered her back, cupped her butt, while the other sought the skin under her sweater. They gasped in each other’s mouths when his hand touched her waist and his fingers skimmed up the line of her spine. She arched on his chest, panting.
“So soft, Sophia,” he breathed and his mouth glided over her jaw to her ear and he bit her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth.
A shot of pure, undeniable lust whipped through Sophia’s body and she flexed her stomach on his erection, completely lost in his caresses. His feathery touch climbed up her body to intimately cup her breast encased in a skimpy lace bra and he circled his thumb over her nipple, reveling the low moan that escaped her throat.
A fierce hunger is threatening to consume us and we are in the open, a few feet away from Gabriela. Her hand stayed his and she scowled at him. “Too much. Too fast,” she managed to say, between heaves. “Besides, we’re in a public park.”
He looked at her, dark forest-green eyes glazed with need, “I’m sorry. You make me forget where I am.” His accent thickened and made his English nearly incomprehensible.