“We’ll see what we can do,” Felipe answered. “Let’s hear your plans.”

Chapter 3

Geneva International Airport.

Saturday, October 17th, 2009.

6 p.m.

“I. Don’t. Believe. It. I don’t,” Sophia huffed. “I received a message from your company saying our flight had been changed to eight o’clock this evening due to the weather.”

“Je suis desolée. Your flight has already departed.”

“You’re sorry, my ass,” Sophia heard Valentina murmur from behind her.

Sophia fished her iPhone from her bag and showed the attendant the message. “Here. Please, read the message.”


“You owe me a thousand pounds, Allenthorp,” Ethan said from his comfortable seat, watching the scene.

“No, I don’t. Our bet didn’t include you cheating and arranging to send fake messages from the airline company. Sometimes I don’t know how you can live with yourself, Ashford.”

“I can see you’ve never read Dell’Arte della Guerra by Machiavelli,” he frowned slightly. “Very interesting, Allenthorp. He taught ‘Though fraud in all other actions be odious, yet in matters of war it is laudable and glorious,’ and ‘he who overcomes his enemies by stratagem is as much to be praised as he who overcomes them by force.’ Although she is not an enemy, I followed his instruction to the letter.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, she’s not alone.” Leonard was clearly annoyed. “And if she discovers your plot?”

“Another quote from Machiavelli for you, Allenthorp. ‘All courses of action are risky, so prudence is not in avoiding danger, but calculating risk and acting decisively.’ I find your education is lacking.”

“On the contrary, Ashford. I just don’t agree with Machiavelli’s beliefs. If for him ‘the end justifies the means,’ for me it doesn’t.”

“Bravo, Allenthorp, a true lawyer speaking. Don’t be a boring moralist now. We have a ride to offer.” He stood and walked up to Sophia.


“Even so, there’re no more flights this evening, madam.” The attendant finished what she was doing. “I’m sorry, again.” She looked at her watch. “I have to close, madam.”

“This isn’t happening.” Sophia shook her head, her raven hair dancing around her.

Felipe put a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. “Sis, it’s okay-”

“It seems I have to rescue you again, darling.” A deep voice came from behind Sophia.

Felipe, Valentina, and Sophia pivoted to find Ethan and Leonard at the corner of the counter.

“Ethan!” She smiled at him. “What a coincidence! I thought you were going back yesterday.”

Felipe put an arm around her waist, protectively, and eyed the men, distrustfully.

“No. My meeting only concluded late this morning. And I convinced Allenthorp to join me for lunch at l’Auberge du Lion D’Or.”

“Hmm. We went there on Thursday,” she nodded, absently. “How are you, Your Grace?” She raised her eyebrows at the lawyer, as if daring him to deny his title. “If I may introduce you, these are Felipe and Valentina Santo, my older brother and youngest sister.” She turned to Felipe and Valentina and her hand flicked in the air toward the men. “Leonard Allenthorp, the Duke of Galewick, and Mr. Ethan Ashford.”

Leonard immediately interjected, “Oh, no, please. There’s no need for formality.” He stretched his hand to Felipe. “Leonard Allenthorp. How do you do?”

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” Felipe replied, shaking Leonard’s hand, unsure of what Sophia had tried to communicate to him. “Mr. Ashford, how do you do?” he nodded, acknowledging Ethan.

The men greeted Valentina.

“So, Sophia, ready for another ride?” Ethan asked, eyeing Valentina with interest.

“Another ride?” Felipe looked at her, surprised.

“My flight was cancelled due to a snowstorm. Ethan offered me a ride, saving my day. His plane already had permission to depart.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Felipe frowned at her.

“It was-” she interrupted herself quickly. “Ah… We had so many things to talk about that I forgot, my dear.”

Leonard smiled, amused.

“May I offer my hospitality again? There is enough space for all of us.”

“Sophia?” Felipe looked at her, waiting for instructions. A normally talkative Valentina quietly surveyed the conversation.

“It’ll be a pleasure,” Ethan interjected, his voice low.

Sophia looked at Ethan and he gave her such a bright smile that she decided to accept. “Yes, I think so. It seems that I’m in your debt again.”

“Don’t worry, darling,” Ethan smiled wolfishly at her, “I’ll collect my credit in due time.”


London, The City, Fleet Street. Leibowitz Oil Building.

Tuesday, October 20th, 2009.

10.10 a.m.

“But Sophia-” The intercom buzz interrupted Edward Davidoff.

Sophia pressed the speaker button, “Yes, Sarah?”

“Mrs. L, Mr. Ashford on line three.”

“Mr. Ashford?” Sophia asked hesitantly and faintly blushed as Edward gave her a knowing smile. Since starting as a trainee, Edward has worked for Leibowitz Oil. His rise to the CEO position took eighteen years. He had been Sophia’s good friend since her marriage to Gabriel. And since Gabriel’s death, Sophia had relied on him more and more.

“He said it was a private matter,” Sarah answered.

Edward chuckled and Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward.

“Answer it, Sophia,” Edward prompted.

“Okay, Sarah. Put him through.” As she motioned to pick up the receiver, Edward made a signal for her to talk on the speakerphone.

“Hello, Ethan.”

“How are you, darling?”

“Darling, huh?” Edward mocked in a whisper. Sophia made a face.

“I’m very well, thank you, Ethan. And you?”

“I’m fine, thank you. I’m calling to collect my lunch. Are you free today?”

“Ah… Let me check my schedule.”

“Accept, Sophia. You have nothing better to do at lunch,” Edward murmured. Sophia shook her head.

“Sophia, I’m looking forward to seeing you again,” Ethan said huskily.

Edward’s eyes twinkled. “Come on, Sophia, accept or I’ll go in your place. He seems quite interesting,” he whispered.

“Ah, I- Yes, I’m free, Ethan.”

“Great. Where do you want to go?”

“Le Gavroche,” Edward suggested immediately.

“Are you crazy?” Sophia retorted, loudly. Too public.

“I beg your pardon?” Ethan said.

“Ah, sorry. I was- I saw something in my e-mail,” she stuttered and rolled her eyes. “Anywhere you chose is fine with me.”

“Oh, no, darling. I would like you to suggest it,” he lowered his voice to a seductive tone, “I want to know your taste.”

At this, Edward put his hand on his mouth to muffle his laugh. “He’s hot,” he whispered in a low voice. “Go for it, Sophia. I guarantee he’ll like your taste.”

“Ah… So, what about Le Gavroche?”

“My darling, my mouth is already watering,” he answered, the sensual intonation stronger. “What time?”

Already Edward loved this man. Someone to sweep Sophia off her feet.

“Is one o’clock okay for you?”

“Sure. I’ll make reservations and pick you up at a quarter to one.” He sounded satisfied.

“There is no need-”

“I insist. Until then.”

“Edward, you’re sooooo dead!” Sophia said when she hung up.

He laughed. “Sophia, if you don’t want to go…”

“Oh, you wicked man. Let’s finish with this contract before I forget you’re the best CEO in England and kill you.”


12.40 p.m.

Sophia walked through the hallway with a curious Edward in tow.

“What’s his car?”

“I have no idea.”

“I bet it’s a sports car.”

“I bet it’s a Mercedes. No, not a Mercedes. A Rolls-Royce with a driver.”

“He may have one, but on your first date he’ll drive to impress, love,” he smiled cunningly at her. “I have to give you some lessons in male behavior, Sophia. You’re too naïve.”

“My first date?” she sputtered. “I’m only having lunch with him and Leonard Allenthorp, the lawyer.”

“Are you sure he invited his friend?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Do you want to bet?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. I’ve already lost a bet to Ethan and Leonard and you know I don’t gamble.”

A dark blue metallic Porsche Carrera stopped in front of the building at 12.42.

“I won,” Edward elbowed Sophia.

When Ethan stepped out of the sports car, Edward turned Sophia toward himself to look into her eyes.

“What?” Sophia inquired, lifting her hand to push back a blond lock that had fallen over Edward’s forehead.

“Are you crazy? How could you have second thoughts about wanting to go out with that man? He is just… Wow!” Then he turned her to face the handsome man waiting outside the car. “Take a good look, my dear. Now, go. Enjoy our lunch. I’ll take care of Leibowitz Oil for you.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Wait!” he grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Give me your rings,” he stretched his hand to grab hers.

She recoiled, “I’m going to be late.”

“Ah-ah! The rings, please,” he wiggled his fingers at her. “Besides, he’s early. Don’t be too eager.”

Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward. “Edward, I’m not too eager. I don’t see the point in making Ethan wait if I’m already here.”

“The rings, please,” he insisted. “I will return them to you after lunch.” He wiggled his fingers again. “Anyway, he already knows you’re a widow. Give them to me.”

Sophia took off her engagement ring and marriage band and placed them on his palm. “I feel naked without them.”

“You’re not! You look astonishing in that dress.” He pushed her in the direction of the door. “Enjoy your date, love.”

“It’s not a date.”

“If you say so…” he sneered and pushed her again.


Ethan sucked in his breath when Sophia appeared on the sidewalk exactly on time. An open beautiful gray overcoat with white fur cuffs and collar exposed a very elegant knee-length tweed, white-and-orange dress, and a black belt hugged her small waist. Along with high-heel, black leather boots, she embodied a sophisticated and sexy woman.

“Sophia, you look wonderful.” He kissed her cheek.

She stared at him, surprised by the kiss. “Thank you.”

He opened the door and held his hand to help her inside the car. As he seated himself behind the steering wheel, he turned to her. “Allenthorp couldn’t come. He asked me to convey his apologies and say that he’ll call you to collect his lunch.”

“That was not our agreement,” Sophia muttered.

“He needs to be in court,” Ethan shrugged, starting the car, “His loss. But I’m sure he’s going to call you.”

Sophia looked at the road, not certain what she should say.

“Have you eaten at Le Gavroche recently?” he asked.

“No. But I have fond memories of the lunch I had there. Such spectacular food.”

“Michel is a spectacular chef. I already informed him I’m having lunch with a special guest.” He smiled at her. “I’m happy you have accepted my invitation, Sophia.”

He’s so sure of himself. She smiled back, without uttering a word.

He turned on the radio, but before putting a CD in, probed, “Do you like opera?”

“Sure. What is this one?”

“A selection of Maria Callas.” He slid the CD in. “I just love her voice; so much emotion. She takes the role, transgresses and transforms it. She makes you feel all the drama, the love and ecstasy, the fear and the death.”

The intense enthusiasm expressed in his voice and face baffled Sophia. “You really like her.”

“I admire those who have no fear of demonstrating passion, to live life to the fullest.” He quickly surveyed her, his blue eyes electrifying. “I think you can.”

All right. Two can play this game. She grinned mysteriously at him, turning sideways on the seat, her dress rising to the middle of her thighs. She noticed when his breath hitched. Oh, yeah, Mr. Ashford. You asked for it.

“What makes you say that, Ethan?” she asked in a deceivingly naïve voice, her fingers playing with the seam of her boot and tracing the contours of her knee.

“Your eyes sparkle with passion when you talk about your pro bono work.” He clutched her hand and, looking right into her eyes, kissed it. “It is up to the man who holds your heart to ignite that fire inside you.”

Sophia felt a thrill run through her spine. Oh. My. God. Now what?

Their arrival at the restaurant saved her from having to respond.