“I. Am. Burning,” she pleaded. He didn’t answer, his mouth busy now with the other breast. His fingers moved to find her slit and he entered her deep with two long fingers. In and out, his fingers teased her. His thumb pressed her clitoris.

Her hands entwined in his hair and she yanked his head up to gaze desperately at him. “In. Flames!”

He smiled hungrily and braced himself on each side of her head.

“You. Are. Tight,” he bit out as he thrust shallowly, but slowly and steadily, torturing her. In a bit, out some more, until he was fully inside her. Hip to hip, no space between them.

She clutched his hair to pull his head down for a kiss.

What started slowly grew into a crescendo, as he began to move faster and she joined him, matching his tempo.

He felt she was near. “Come for me,” he commanded, kissing her hard. Her nails scorched his back and her heels dug into his buttocks. “Yes, baby.”

Sophia opened her eyes to look at his flashing blue eyes.

“Ethan.” She threw her head back and cried out as he took her over the edge, falling limp on the pillows as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her, hugging him tightly inside her, ripple after ripple extracting a deep groan from his throat. She felt him move fiercely once more, shouted her name and stilled above and inside her, his pleasure so strong it pulsated through her.

He rolled to his side; rose on one elbow and with a shaking hand combed her splayed hair.

“You will be the ruin of me, Sophia,” he rasped and placed a light kiss on her shoulder.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Couldn’t even open her eyes. Her world was spinning.

“Sophia?” His hand cupped her face and turned it to him.

Her eyes fluttered open; the honey color transformed now to a yellow diamond color. “Need a minute,” she managed to say, a barely there smile on her lips.

He trapped her in his arms. “Sleep with me tonight. You don’t have to work tomorrow.”

“Hmm?” She tried to make some sense of his words. She raised her head a bit from his chest. “Your heart is beating too fast.” She smiled at him, her wondrous eyes shining and he melted completely.

“Stay with me. It’s late.”

“I don’t do sleepovers, Ethan.”

“I beg your pardon?” He looked astonished. A woman that doesn’t want to stay overnight? With me?

“I only sleep alone,” she smiled, apologetic.

“Why?” he asked baffled.

She shrugged. “Because.”

“Please.” He caressed her hair, twisting a lock between his fingers. “I’ve never asked a woman to stay with me. I really wish you would stay, Sophia.”

“All right. I have to go home before one o’clock tomorrow,” she acquiesced. “Oh… I don’t have anything with me.”

“Clothes are not a problem. My secretary will bring you some, tomorrow morning.” He stood up, picked up his BlackBerry from his jeans on the floor, and started texting. “Do you want a T-shirt to sleep in?” he asked while he entered his walk-in closet and his bathroom.

She shook her head and rose from the bed, toeing off her high heels and gathering her clothes. “What are you doing?” she asked surprised when he exited the closet in pajama shorts, still texting.

“Informing my secretary what I want her to buy for you.” He raised his eyes to take a good look at her body.

“At this time of night?”

“Sophia, I pay her quite well. She works twenty-four-seven,” he said dismissively. “What is your shoe size?”

“I don’t need shoes. In fact, there is no need for clothes. I can return home in mine.”

He frowned at her. “You’re not going home wearing this dress and high heels. What size?”

“Er… Really, Ethan.”

“Aren’t you aggravating?” He grumbled and his demeanor suddenly darkened. “Do you want to arrive at home looking like a whore?”

Sophia flinched and paled. Gabriela! What will Gabriela think? “I think I should I go home now, Ethan,” she said in a small voice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.” He hastily apologized. “Please… Stay. I’ve never asked a woman to stay with me, Sophia,” he repeated. “It’s always the other way round.”

Almost two years since I have slept with a man. Should I indulge? Could I? “All right. I will stay.”

“Shoe size?”

Oh, damn. My shoe size. “Er… seven and a half for sandals, eight for shoes, and eight and a half for boots… UK size.” Sophia eyed him closely waiting for a smirk that didn’t come. Good, Mr. Ashford. “But sneakers would do.”

“Sneakers?” He made a face at her. “Do you want a shirt, baby?”

“I just want a toothbrush.” She smiled mischievously at him. “If you don’t mind, I sleep in the nude.”

He laughed, “I don’t mind at all.” He pulled her into his arms, kissing her tenderly. “Oh, Sophia.” He sighed. “There is something special about you…”

She ran her fingers through his hair and smiled at him.

“Tomorrow, I’ll drive you home.” He kissed her lips and grabbing her hand, towed her into the bathroom. He gave her a toothbrush and paste he had retrieved from a drawer. “Make yourself at home.”

God! She shook her head, smiling when she entered the bathroom. The man has art even in here.

When Sophia reentered the bedroom, he was sitting on the bed waiting for her holding two flutes of champagne. No sign of the condom he had flung on the floor.

He stretched his hand, pulling her into the circle of his arms as they toasted and drank.

An emotion Ethan didn’t recognize unfurled in his chest. And then, he knew it would be her for him, forever.

After thirty-five years of waiting I’ve found my other half. She will be mine. My Sophia. Forever.

Come hell or high water.

Mine.

He shook his head, scared to hell. “You don’t know what you have done to me, Sophia.”


A frightening scream shattered the air, waking Ethan.

He switched on the lamp on the bedside table. Sophia, on the other side of the bed, clutched her scarred arm and moaned, as if in pain. Her head thrashed on the pillow and she spoke incoherently.

“Nooooo!” she cried hoarsely, chilling Ethan as her pained voice laced the room.

Jesus! He shook her by the shoulders. “Sophia! Sophia, wake up! You’re having a nightmare.”

She opened troubled eyes and looked around, confused. Her gaze fixed on his face and her breath whooshed from her. She put her hands on her face, heaving.

After a minute, she let her hands fall. “I’m sorry.” She pushed up on the bed and rested on the headboard, eyes closed. “That is the reason I don’t do sleepovers, Ethan.” Her voice shaky. “I have nightmares,” she sighed. “Terrible nightmares.” She left the bed. “I’ll be right back.” She crossed the room and entered the bathroom. She twisted her hair and made a loose bun. She waved her hand under the faucet, cupped the water. She wet her wrists, face, and nape.

Don’t look in the mirror, don’t look in the mirror. She knew what she would see. Big, spooky, dark-brown eyes and white lips on an ashen face. They were neither her eyes, nor her features. They belonged to a ghost, not to her.

Sophia heard a knock and she turned. Ethan leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her with worried eyes. “Everything okay?”

“No,” she grimaced, “but it will be.”

“Want some port? Or a whisky?” He stepped into the bathroom, thoughtfully. “Here.” He put a white cotton shirt beside her on the sink. “I’ll wait for you in the sitting room.”

“Wait.” She gripped his wrist and stared at him, her eyes troubled… Get a grip, Sophia. You’re going to frighten the man away on the first night. She let go of his hand. “It’s okay. I’ll be-”

He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist, his head dropping to her neck. “I’m here,” he whispered near her ear. “Come on.” He dressed her with the shirt, which fell to the middle of her thighs. “I like you in my shirt.” He smiled at her, leading her to the sofa. He retrieved a bottle of port from a small bar under the bookshelf. He looked at her and motioned to the opened champagne bottle, “Or perhaps do you want the champagne?”

So attentive, Ethan. She gave him a small smile. “I prefer the port.”

“Tell me about the dream.” He handed her the crystal glass and sat beside her, an arm on her shoulder, pulling her to him.

She sipped her wine. “It wasn’t a dream.” She shook her head. “And I don’t talk about it.”

“How were you shot?” He tried again.

“Ethan, please, let it be. It’s a very sore issue.” For the first time, she looked around; taking in the stylish sitting room with its paintings and books gracing the walls.

She put her glass on the side table and rose from the sofa to examine the bookshelves. “We really do have similar tastes,” she smiled at him over her shoulder.

He finished his wine and approached her from behind and spoke in her ear. “I knew you were perfect for me from the minute I spotted you.” He bit her earlobe, his hand lifting the hem of the shirt to find her hip, stroking it. “Come to bed. I’ll make you forget your dream.”

Chapter 5

Saturday, January 16th, 2010.

10 a.m.

Sophia opened her eyes to find Ethan seated on the edge of the bed looking at her, a mug in his hand, his hair damp from the shower, dressed in faded jeans and a blue turtleneck sweater that did wonders to his eyes.

“I could go for hours just looking at you.”

She stretched, raising her arms above her head and entwining them; the sheets moved, showing a breast. “Good morning,” she smiled at him.

Ethan put his mug on the bedside table. “Do that again and you’re not getting out of this bed, Ms. Santo.”

Sophia grinned wickedly and stretched again, this time writhing her body, sheets bunching at her waist.

“Vixen.” Ethan bent to kiss her but she rolled to the other side of the bed and jumped to the bathroom.

“Don’t move,” she ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

When she emerged from the bathroom, he was in the same place, an amused twist on his lips.

“Good boy.” She smiled and picked up his mug, smelling it. “Mmm!” She raised her brows to him and drank his coffee. He smiled at her impudent gesture. She tugged him from the bed by the sweater. “Take it off,” she commanded.

“You like to give orders, huh?”

“Sometimes,” she smiled and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you know how to obey?”

“Sometimes,” he replied and took off his sweater.

“Let’s see.” She perched on the end of the bed, tapping her index finger on her lips, admiring his muscles as he moved.

“Now what, Ms. Santo?”

She could see a bulge in his jeans, her lips twisted and curled unbidden. “Jeans. Off.”

He peeled off his jeans, amused, and threw them on the armchair.

“Briefs. Off!” Her eyes gleamed and she bit her lip.

He took off his briefs and stood proudly in front of her. He knew he had a great figure.

Sophia motioned, with her finger, for him to make a complete turn.

“Do you approve?” he asked huskily.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Ashford, I do!” she nodded.

Jesus! The woman is hot.

Sophia rose from the bed and circled him, her fingers tracing his chest and his shoulder; she ran her hands over his arms and his buttocks, without touching his straining erection.

“A fine specimen, Mr. Ashford.” She pinched his chin lowering his head a bit, to better look at his azure eyes. He hadn’t touched her and she was already turned on. “A very fine specimen,” she murmured.

He let out a laugh. “I will tell my personal trainer that I made the grade.” He grabbed both of her wrists in his grip behind her back and pulled her flush onto his body.

“I wasn’t finished, Mr. Ashford,” she frowned at him.

“Seems I’m not that good at following orders, Ms. Santo.”

She smiled at the admission. “Ethan. I never thought you would be.” And pressed tighter to him, parting her lips.

They met halfway and he savaged her mouth, leaving Sophia with no ability to think. She barely noticed when he released her wrists and picked her up by the waist, lifting her higher on his body to deepen the kiss. Her legs wrapped around his waist involuntary and she put her hands on his shoulders for support.

“Sophia,” her name on his lips like a prayer. He impaled her on his erection and a low cry left Sophia’s mouth. “You feel so good,” he murmured and backed her on the wall, moving slowly, rocking in her. He kissed her neck and her shoulder.