“I will,” she brushed her lips over his and left his arms. “Good-bye,” she whispered.

She stepped away, head down, feeling lonely and despondent.

Suddenly his arms shot forward and he hauled her, airborne, back into his arms, face to face with him. “Sophia, Sophia,” he breathed on her lips before smashing them with a scorching kiss, branding her, tattooing her. With his smell, his mouth, his hands and his body. Marking her as his.

She threw her arms around his neck and entangled her hands into his glorious hair, returning the kiss with all her might.

He broke the kiss and put her on her feet again. “Only four days. Not even,” he murmured. “Three and a half days.”

“I know,” his jacket muffled her voice, “it’s just… It seems a long time. I miss you already.”

He kissed the top of her head and hugged her fiercely, before pushing her tenderly off him. “Go. We can’t hold air traffic.”

He stood there, careless of the frigid wind blowing his long hair. He watched Sophia walk to his plane, turn, wave, and disappear inside it. When the door closed, an unrecognizable sensation spread and consumed his chest, leaving him dazzled by the powerful intensity of it.

He shook his head and thinned his lips. Come now, Alistair Connor. This is just a passing infatuation. Once you have her, it’ll disappear.

Turning his back to the aircraft, he resolutely marched to the marine BMW 760Li, entering it without looking back.


Atwood House.

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010.

9.30 p.m.

Sophia emerged from the bathroom toweling her wet hair. She flung herself on the bed and picked up her iPhone. Oh, my! The man is freaking out. Eight WhatsApp messages and three calls. All unanswered.

She quickly scanned the messages Alistair had sent over the last three hours and texted back.

09:31. Sophia: Sorry, I was with G.

09:32. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: It’s too late for her to go to sleep.

09:32. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: I wanted to talk to you. I just entered a meeting.

09:32. Sophia: She slept 1.5 hours ago. I ate something and just got out of the shower.

09:33. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it:

Sophia could almost see his devilish green eyes flashing. A malicious smile spread over her face as she texted back.

09:34. Sophia: Yes, please. I’m quite wet!

She grinned, imagining his body’s reaction to the text. Hmm.

09:34. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!

09:34. Sophia:

09:35. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it:

09:35. Sophia: xxx

09:36. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: Think this is funny, huh?

09:36. Sophia: Where are you?

09:37. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: Still in an endless, boring meeting at the bank. No light at the end of the tunnel.

Sophia smiled. He had never sent her such a playful message.

09:37. Sophia: Poor baby! Call me tomorrow morning, then.

09:39. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: Sleep well, Beauty.

09:39. Sophia: You, too.

She grinned broadly and texted again.

09:39. Sophia: Dream of me. Good night.

09:41. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: As if I could avoid it. You’ve taken permanent residence in my mind. Good night.

Sophia switched off her cell phone and chose her classical playlist. She sat on her bed with her Kindle, when a thought startled her.

And in your heart, Alistair Connor? Who resides in your heart?


London, The City. L’Anima.

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010.

1 p.m.

Sophia’s iPhone vibrated for the nth time. It was in her purse she had placed on her thighs. She discretely took out the phone and glanced down at her lap. Alerts and banners filled her screen. Dear God! Seven WhatsApp messages, three e-mails, and two calls. All from Alistair. Doesn’t he have to work? She quickly scanned his messages.

10:31. Morning, Beauty.

10:53. Miss you.

11:46. Busy?

12:14. Sarah doesn’t know your whereabouts. Where are you?

12:37. I’m becoming anxious and you’re not helping.

12:49. Answer the damn phone.

01:00. You are so dead on Thursday.

Edward swung his keen, blue eyes in her direction, and caught her looking at her iPhone. He tapped her foot under the table and shook his head at her. “Mrs. Leibowitz shares my opinion about the generator design we have sent you, Mr. Robin.”

Damn. She closed her fingers over the phone and looked sheepishly at him, who glared at her in return, pushing back the blonde lock. I’m sorry, Mr. CEO, I’m sorry.

“Yes, of course,” Sophia smiled candidly at the two technicians and the senior partner of Robin Enterprises seated at the round table opposite her. She ignored the buzzing of another message and paid attention to the conversation.

Edward started to explain about the budget of Leibowitz Oil and his voice became distant as her cell phone vibrated again, and she peered down, incapable of holding back her curiosity.

01:14. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: Are you angry with me?

01:19. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: Is everything all right with you?

Decidedly, the man has freaked out. Again.

01:19. Sophia: CALM DOWN!

01:19. Sophia: Text you back in 15.

01:21. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it: NO NEED FOR CAPITAL LETTERS.

01:21. Sophia: NO NEED TO FREAK OUT.

Sophia smiled and shoved her cell phone in her purse. The lunch finished without any other messages or calls.


Scotland, Inverness. Cafe 1.

1.30 p.m.

Alistair’s face had become so dark and taut that Tavish nudged him in the ribs and whispered, “You’re going to scare the clients away. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” His voice clipped. He put down his silverware. His stomach queasy. “Go on, Tavish, let them know our interest in their account,” he murmured back. “Let me see how you fare in your new position,” Alistair provoked his brother.