She put a finger on his lips. “There are no other men.”
He twirled his tongue on her finger and sucked it into his mouth and Sophia’s breath hitched at the pure carnal feeling that washed over her body and gathered between her thighs.
“Only you,” she whispered. What is your problem, Sophia? You need more therapy sessions. You need to tell Dr. Kent about this. Why are you only attracted to jealous, neurotic, older men? Gabriel, then Ethan, and now Alistair. Sophia lost her line of thought as Alistair kissed her throat and glided his mouth to her breast.
He desperately needed to touch her. The insecurity that had been eating at him all day waned as jealousy loosened its grip on his soul and he felt Sophia’s body surrender to passion under his mouth.
He raised his eyelids to peer at her. “You’re so beautiful. I love looking at you.” His hand palmed her breast and she hissed in a breath full of passion. “I want all of you, Sophia. Let me make love to you.”
Make love… Her eyes closed for a moment before opening again, those beautiful, clear yellow eyes mesmerized by him.
Garrick’s voice interrupted them, “Mr. MacCraig, we’ll arrive at our destination in a minute.”
Sophia scrambled back on the seat, away from Alistair, an alarmed look on her face. “Can he hear us?” She fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, struggling to redo them hastily.
“No, of course not, Sophia,” he scowled.
“So, he knows what we’re up to back here?” She blushed, ashamed and angry at him and at herself.
“No. Absolutely not,” a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “It’s just a habit of mine. I work in the car all the time and I don’t like being caught unprepared for any arrival.” He frowned at her, “I’ll never share you with another man, Sophia. Never.”
“I’ll never share you with another man…” A shudder ran through her. “But will you share me with another woman?” God! Where did this spring from?
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-”