Trust: Betrayed (4 page)

He inhaled sharply at her answer, “Don’t challenge me, Beauty. I might do it.”

She gave him a smile and shook her head to break the spell. “You are trying to distract me. Back to the subject. No, you did not ask me to go to John’s. You decided it, made the appointment and informed me. You didn’t talk to me first.”

“You are partially right,” he conceded, “but only partially. We have talked about it, Sophia.”

“Talked?”

“Yes, I told you I was going to call John and set the appointment-” he interrupted himself as her brows shot up.

“Let me repeat what you just said. Quote, ‘I told you I was going to call John and set the appointment.’ Unquote. You informed me. There’s a big difference between a conversation and a notification.”

“Fine. I was trying to order you around. It’s...” His knuckles caressed her cheek, tenderly.
Fuck my fears. She’s said enough times to trust her.
“This is important to me, Sophia. It’s about the issues in my past. It will just be a quick talk. Please?”

“Just a talk?”

“Aye, sweetheart. Just a talk. I’ve informed John’s secretary we needed just a few minutes with him.”

Just a talk. So, no need to disrobe. John won’t see the marks.
Sophia perused Alistair taking in his tailored navy suit and light-blue tie with tiny multicolored butterflies from Hermès. She gasped silently and immediately scooted back on the sofa. “I don’t take orders, but I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll go. But don’t turn this into precedent. Next time, you will ask me first. Nicely. And... that tie,” she pointed, “has to go. Now. Forever. I’ll buy you a new one on the way.”

He blinked at her swift change of mood and strange request, “You’ll go with me, but I need to change my tie? Why?” His fingers instantly started to undo the perfect Windsor knot.

“I have issues with butterflies and moths,” she shuddered.

“Don’t tell me you are disturbed by such tiny, pretty things,” he smiled at her.

“No. I’m not disturbed,” she shook her head. “I have an insane fear of those ugly, furred and treacherous things that are almost impossible to catch and kill.”

His smile broadened at hearing her idiosyncrasy. “Here.” The tie hung from between his fingers. “It’s yours. Throw it in the bin. Burn it. I don’t care.”

She moved away from it, holding up her hand. “Put it away, please. I’m not kidding.”

He folded his tie and shoved it in his suit pocket, noting her strange reaction. “I never met a person that was scared of butterflies like this.”

“When I was a kid...” she shivered and wrung her hands in her lap. “I developed a phobia. Suffice it to say that if there was a real butterfly in the room, you would see me out of my mind, screaming. It’s irrational.” She glanced at her Santos 100 Skeleton watch. “If we are buying you a new tie, we’d better go.”

“I need another minute. I brought something for you.” Alistair grabbed her in his arms and hauled her onto his lap and his hand took out a black box from his suit pocket. He flipped open the box and an exquisite clip depicting two love birds appeared inside.

“Oh. It’s magnificent,” she breathed as he showed it to her. Her fingers touched the male bird made of yellow gold and yellow sapphires, tracing its wing as it curved around the smaller female of white gold and pink sapphires. Her finger caressed the stunning heart-shaped ruby that formed the male’s belly. “It’s so... fierce, protective. It reminds me of you. It’s... I have no words, Alistair.” She gave him a kiss on the lips. “Thanks, Handsome.”

He put his thumb over her index finger that was positioned on the heart-shaped ruby and murmured to her, “I’m giving you my heart, Sophia. Take good care of it.”

He pinned the clip to her dress over her heart, as she bit her lip and looked down at her hands, a sudden anguish taking hold of her.

He gripped her chin and made her look at him, “What?”

“Too soon, isn’t it?”

“No,” he shook his head slowly, staring deep into her eyes. “I would say it’s too late.”

In a fluid movement, he took a red box from his pocket and opened it with a deft flick of his fingers.

She eyes him, quizzically, “Another gift?”

“Nae, I don’t know if this could be called a gift...”
I’m branding you as mine.
“It’s sort of a commitment ring,” he explained. He took out a large white gold Love ring with diamonds from the box and took her right hand.

Sophia immediately ripped it away from his grasp. “A commitment ring? On my right hand? What do you mean?”
Too soon, Alistair Connor, too soon. Don’t destroy my diaphanous dreams. Let me live them for a little while.

He sighed and his head dipped toward hers, his lips brushing against hers as he said, “I want the world to know you’re mine, Sophia.”

“And are you going to wear one, too?” She jumped from his lap, holding her fisted right hand against her breast.

He jerked his head back to look at her and blinked at the fear that showed in her eyes, “Aye, if you want me to, I will.”

And now? Do I want him to wear an engagement ring too? Because this is an engagement, Sophia. Don’t let yourself be fooled. Do I want this kind of commitment? Do I want to see him killed, too?
“You will...”

He nodded, “Aye, I will.” He immediately took his mobile from his inner pocket, searching for a contact and made a call, “Mary Weston, please. It’s Alistair Connor MacCraig. Thank you.” He wiggled his fingers beckoning Sophia to sit by his side as he waited. “Mary, how are you? I need a Love ring for men. For me. What do you suggest?” He gripped Sophia’s hand and pulled her onto his lap again, snaking an arm around her waist, keeping her firmly nestled on him. “Hmm. Hold on, please.” He turned to Sophia, “Do you want to choose it with me?”

“Let’s go together,” he crooned, “I’ve chosen yours, you will chose mine. Is that okay with you?”

Oh, my God.
“Yes,” she whispered.

“Mary, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Please, sort them for me. I’m in a hurry. Thanks. Take care.”

Sophia kept looking down at her hands.

“Happy, now?” He curled his fingers under her chin and made her look at him.

“That was not the problem. I just think this is a bit abrupt.”

“And to think I was the one afraid of loving.” He kissed her lips lightly. “You told me love didn’t scare you,” he murmured, almost sad.

Please, try to understand me.
“I’m not afraid of loving you. Never,” she shook her head fiercely and her hair bounced around her. “But I’m scared to death.” She cupped his face in her cold hands and whispered, “Scared of losing everything again. I won’t survive another loss.”

Oh, Beauty.
His heart squeezed in his chest and he drowned himself inside her honeyed eyes, so beautiful and honest. He put his big warm hands over hers and rested his forehead on hers and said firmly, “You won’t lose me, Sophia. You. Will. Not.”

“You can’t promise that, Alistair Connor,” she whispered. “Fate decides that, what we want, what we wish, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, at least, I can promise you I’ll try my hardest so you don’t get rid of me, stubborn and commanding as I am.”

The tease brought out a small smile from Sophia, “Amen, my lord Marquis.”

“So... Can I put the ring on your finger?”

She blinked. She had forgotten about the ring. “Ah...”

“Sophia, I’m not proposing. It’s not an engagement ring. It’s, as I said, a commitment ring.”

“Like the slave bracelet?” she asked him, with a raised eyebrow.

How cunning, Sophia.
“Aye, like the slave bracelet,” he stifled a smile as he fingered the shining bracelet just below her watch and closed his hand around it, the contrast of her lean thin wrist and his long broad fingers gentling his grip.

“Well, then,” she sighed, extending her fingers and surrendering to his beguiling ways. “It seems you like to stake your claim, Alistair Connor.”

He smiled then and murmured against her lips, “Aye, Sophia, I do.”

Kensington. Dr. John Walter’s Office.

12.27 p.m.

“So, what brings you two here?” said John, sitting on his chair behind his desk and opening Sophia’s file.

Alistair glanced at Sophia.

She bit her lip to stop her smile and shook her head at him.
Let him explain it.

“Well, first of all, Sophia... Err... Sophia has a strange reaction at the conclusion of sex. I’ve never seen it happen before. And I fear that there’s something wrong-” Alistair paused, frowning as she giggled. “Well, she goes into a kind of stupor that can last five minutes or so. She has difficulty talking. And... she even fainted once. I almost called 999.”

Five?! Aren’t you dramatic?
“I didn’t faint,” she said in an amused voice.

“You did.”

“I did not.”

“Well, did you or didn’t you, Sophia?” John leaned on his chair, his kind blue eyes studying Sophia’s grinning face.

“I... Maybe I did, but it was very quick.” Her smile broadened. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t really faint. It’s absolutely normal.”

Alistair’s brows creased, “Quick or not, real or not, it scared the hell out of me. She was unconscious.”

“But what happened? Can you describe it?” John asked Sophia. “Do you feel nausea? Dizziness? Numbness in your hands or feet?”

“Numbness?” she smiled. “No, never. It’s happened before, but I never feel anything unpleasant. On the contrary. Hmm, let’s say that it’s so...”
Oh, my. How do I say this?
“Ah... Hmm...” Her lips slitted again in a big grin, “I feel so good that it leaves me warm all over, floating, as if I were ethereal, and it takes me some time to come back down from cloud nine.”

“Floating... Ethereal, on cloud nine...” It was John’s turn to smile, as Alistair blinked at Sophia’s description. “Well, what can I say? Congratulations are in order, I think. To both of you. All men should take their companions to that state. And women would need to be profoundly connected with their partner in order to achieve it.”

“So there is nothing wrong with Sophia? No cardiovascular-”

Sophia exploded into laughter and put a hand over her mouth as Alistair scolded her, “I’m worried about you and you laugh at me?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, struggling to compose herself, putting a soothing hand over his. “I told you there was nothing wrong with me.”

“Sophia is a very healthy woman, Alistair. There isn’t anything wrong with her. Apart from her hypotension, she is my healthiest patient.”

“Hmm,” he ran two fingers over his square jaw, thoughtfully, and looked from John’s face to Sophia’s. “If you say so... Could this hypotension have caused her fainting?”

“Good question,” John mused, tapping his fingers on the desk. “Maybe. But I think it’s unlikely since she doesn’t have any other related symptom.”

“And how low is it?”

“Low. Ninety over fifty. But it seems normal for her, because she doesn’t feel the effects a person with so-called normal blood pressure would feel when it’s this low. So that’s how we have to look at it. It’s low, but to her, it’s normal. And I’d rather have a hypotensive patient than a hypertensive one. I’ve been her doctor since she arrived in London and she was here a month ago, for her regular check-up. There’s nothing wrong with her.”

“What is she using for contraception?”
Now. Alistair Connor, you don’t need to know that. Ask if she is clean and how often she gets tested and be done with.

John watched as Sophia sighed and looked down at her hands, “Sophia?”

“John, I have nothing to hide,” she raised her head, a troubled and hurt look on her face and glanced at Alistair, who was watching her with hawk-like eyes. “I told him I’m clean and that I was using birth-control, but he needs reassurance from you. Go on, reassure him.”

“Sophia,” Alistair scolded her. “It’s not like that.”

Her eyes bore down on his, “Oh, yeah, it’s just like that. You’re distrustful. I, on the other hand, am not. Go on, ask away. I have no problem in opening up my life to you.” She whipped her head to look at John. “You have my permission to answer all his questions. Better,” she uncrossed her legs and raised from her armchair, “I’ll leave you two alone. That way, neither one of you will be made uncomfortable by my presence.”

As she turned and stepped away, Alistair jumped out of his armchair and grabbed her by the arms.

She halted mid-stride and without looking at him, asked “Yes?”

“Sophia, it’s not that I don’t believe in you.”

Stand your ground.
She heard his wary tone but didn’t cede. “No?” She flicked her eyes at John’s impassive face and back to Alistair’s cautious one. “But then, this isn’t the time or the place to discuss it. Ask what you need to ask. I’ll be waiting outside. I just gave my permission to John to disclose anything you want to know.”

He snaked his arms around her, hauling her flush to his body, and squeezed her lightly, dropping his head to her cheek, murmuring softly, “Please,
mo chridhe
, stay. There’s no need to react like this.”

He was so big, warm and tender that Sophia felt as if he was blanketing her in pure love and she inhaled deep, struggling with her emotions.
You also have issues, Sophia. If you want to invest in this relationship, you’ll have to deal with his doubts and problems.
“I’m not used to having my word questioned,” she said for his ears only.

“Please?” he asked again.

This is not the place to make a scene, Sophia. You can talk about it later.
She looked down at his hand. The light flashed on his brand new Love ring, which she had chosen.
He is committing, Sophia. He’s trying. Do your share.
She exhaled, “All right.”

Immediately, he released her and, as she sat back in her armchair, he gripped her hand in his.