Every fiber in Alistair’s body and mind commanded him to kiss her, to devour her. But he didn’t want her response to be clouded by lust. He held his breath, his heart beating so fast that he could hear the pounding in his ears, and waited.

“Alistair Connor, I-” Sophia, your name means wisdom. Be wise, at least once and ponder. No, Sophia, be selfish and accept. She shooed the thoughts away and with a bleeding heart, breathed, “No.”

He was caught unawares by the short word. Alistair clamped his lips shut to stop the gasp that surely would have escaped, as a sharp pain jabbed his gut.

She has said... nae? NAE? “Nae?” he repeated in disbelief. It would appear that God has not finished punishing me. For in you, Sophia, I have found my salvation and my damnation.

Sophia shook her head slowly and lowered her eyelids; she couldn’t bear the pained and surprised look on his face.

Alistair swallowed hard. Unconsciously he drew himself up, straighter, taller, colder, bracing himself for the next blow. His face assumed a nonchalant look.

Dammit! “No, I’m not rejecting you,” she whispered. The tightness in her throat was overwhelming, making it almost impossible to swallow or breathe. She smoothed out her skirt, trying to smooth away the dread that was accumulating inside her. “I like your company. I appreciate your way of living and thinking, even though we are still getting to know each other. I care for you. Very much.” I... I love you, I do, but I’m afraid. There’s too much to consider, too many changes, too many secrets. Not enough time together. She was feeling confused from all the considerations swarming her mind. She inhaled slowly and traced his commitment ring. “It’s just that... I need some time to think about it.” Sophia, you are so stupid. You should have said yes from the beginning. She enlaced her fingers with his and looked up to stare in his eyes. The green was almost gone, but his face was expressionless. “Please, don’t be angry,” she asked softly. “Please?”

“I’m not angry, I’m hurt. But I will wait, Sophia. And you will say yes. I know you will. You will be my wife,” Alistair nodded. They were silent for a while and then Alistair spoke, changing subjects. “The vet told me Avenger is nervous,” he said absentmindedly, as he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Why? What happened?” She almost thanked him for the new topic.

He made a supreme effort and a small smile appeared on his lips. “I think your horse misses you.”

Sophia paired his effort and a small smile curled the corners of her mouth. “Why did you gave him to me?”

“Don’t you like him?”

“On the contrary. I love him and I love his name. Just curious.”

I see... You love a horse but you don’t love me. You’ll say it, Sophia! You will. “You know... He reminded me of a woman I admire very much.”

Me? “But he is male.” Please, say it’s me.

His smile darkened and naughtiness shimmered on his eyes. “So?” he shrugged. “Do you want to change horses?”

Why? She frowned inwards. It’s not me? “No, of course not,” she answered. “Forget about it.”

He laughed quietly and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Great. Because this woman once told me, and I quote, no one, no one harms what is mine and stays unpunished. Do you know-”

He laughed as she tackled him to the ground and crawled over his body.

“Mocking me, my lord?” she asked from above him as she dipped her fingers in his hair. Her laughing face took on a gentle look. “Alistair Connor?”

“Hmm?” His hand lifted to caress her bruised face and his thumb drew the contour of her mouth. There was a sadness in his eyes that didn’t deny the disappointment he was felling at her refusal. Please, don’t try to justify the unjustifiable. I don’t want your pity. I want your love.

“I-” God, Sophia! Can’t you see he is hurting? That you are hurting him? “I’ll think carefully about your proposal.” Damn! Are you considering a business transaction? “Ah, I mean-”

His thumb on her lips stopped her lame excuses and he pulled her head down for a tender kiss, not wanting to know whatever reasons she had to say no to him. There are words better unheard, better unsaid, Sophia.

Sophia kissed him back.

Alistair didn’t know why but the kiss had a sour taste of good-bye.

Niarchos Angepopoulos’s house, on the beach.


Sunday, June 18th, 1989.


1 p.m.

Ethan dragged himself to the sand and sat there, the gentle waves caressing him like they wanted to soothe the deep pain inside his heart. He took off his socks. His shoes had been lost during his crazed swimming. He looked down at his feet and curled his toes into the sand.

Niarchos sat quietly beside him, not caring that his expensive clothes were getting wet. “Ethan.”

Ethan didn’t think he had any strength left. However, he looked up, faced his grandfather and whispered, “Why, Grandpa?”

“Because you needed it. But I didn’t want you to find out like this. You weren’t supposed to find out at all.” Niarchos felt as if he were a hundred and forty years old instead of seventy. He put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “I don’t regret my actions, my son. I understand that you are angry with me. However... I would have done it again. I love you, Ethan. My love demands that I do everything in my power to see you happy and healthy. No matter how, no matter the cost.”

Damn you, Grandpa. Ethan rested his chin on his knees and sighed deeply.

“One day you will understand that I couldn’t stand by and see you wasting away anymore. You were hurting. I had to do something.”

Ethan didn’t answer. He knew his grandfather’s words made sense, if analyzed with cold detachment, but his deception and his hurt were too great to let him forgive so easily.

Niarchos Angepopoulos stood up and watched as Ethan gazed unseeingly toward the horizon. He closed his heart to his grandson’s pain. He never doubted the correctness of his own ways.

“It is hurting now and I know you don’t understand, but... one day you will thank me, Ethan. One day you will learn that we have to protect those we love. No matter the cost.”

Niarchos turned and walked back to the house reasoning that sometimes suffering forged a better man. He was powerful and rich, because life had taught him that pity and gentleness brought only betrayal.

Niarchos smiled. That minor incident would teach Ethan how to be a stronger man. Now Ethan would be ready to take on the world.

Ells Hall.


Monday, April 5th, 2010.


10.15 a.m.

Sophia woke up feeling very dizzy. Gingerly, she propped herself up and groaned softly at her still hurting shoulder and throbbing head.

She slid off the bed and crossed the room unsteadily to the dressing room looking for the pills Tavish had given her. Grabbing a bottle of water from the small fridge, she gulped down two pills.

She entered the bathroom and washed her face. She scowled at her black-and-blue reflection in the mirror as she brushed her teeth and hair. God, Sophia. You look terrible.

She gingerly changed into a comfortable dress and slipped on a pair of pumps.

Sophia packed her small suitcase. She knew Alistair wanted to go back after tea and she didn’t want him to think she was an invalid. He had been treating her as if she would break at any moment. Sophia’s lips curled in amazement as she closed her carry-on.

She straightened and walked a few paces before dizziness hit her hard. Her arm jutted out sideways and she breathed deep, waiting for the spinning sensation to pass.

Damned drugs. She cursed herself for giving in so easily and taking the sedative Alistair had asked Tavish in the early hours of the morning when she was feeling restless and in pain. Idiot. And you just took more codeine now. Great, Sophia. Just great.

Carefully, she released the door she’d used to steady herself and her hand brushed the key and it opened as the lock unfastened.

She blinked twice and approached the neatly organized shelves with numerous sex toys. She had never been to a sex shop, but she was sure she was looking at an impressive array of stock.

She picked up a box that said: Menage à trois for two. She giggled nervously. What the hell? A threesome for two? She turned the box in her hand and gapped at the photograph illustrating the back cover. Hmm. Creative.

For once Sophia didn’t really know what to do. Should I close this door and not mention it or... Or what, Sophia? She laughed. Or should I call him up here and ask him to show me what these things do?

She slowly pulled the next door and this time her gasp was shocked. Sophia paled.

Surely, this is some bad joke. She closed her eyes. When she opened them the closet was still there. And the metal handcuffs, floggers, and other things she couldn’t name. This is a... What? She picked up her iPhone and photographed the contents.

Sophia carefully closed and locked both doors and went down to have her breakfast with a nasty feeling in her stomach.

Somewhere over England.


In Alistair MacCraig’s G650 on the way back to London.


7.25 p.m.

Sophia was driving Alistair mad.

What power had goaded me into declaring my hand so early? I should have waited. We were practically living together. He shook his head at himself. It was sheer madness.

Yet he could feel the urge to conquer, to seize and to hold her forever, flaring even now, simply at the thought of her answer. And what was really nagging him was the cold civility she had wrapped around her since breakfast. She was keeping him at bay. He was sure he would go insane before the end of the day, if she didn’t revert to her usual self. She had pleaded a bad headache and a painful shoulder before they took off, had taken a painkiller and retreated to the stateroom. He knew better. Sophia was not a complainer despite Tavish telling him that she could have been feeling pain.

He looked at the beautiful sunset and sighed. The conversation was flowing around him, but he was barely paying attention. He’d already given a completely idiotic answer to something Leonard had asked and received a knowing glance from his brother-in-law.

He sighed again, excused himself, made a cup of tea at the bar and went to the back, knocking softly on the stateroom door. As no answer came, he pushed the door and quietly entered the shaded room, placing the cup in the round indentation of the table by the sofa. Many thoughts crossed his mind as he sat on the bed and studied Sophia’s sleeping face.

What happened, Sophia? He was wary. Maybe she doesn’t like that I’ve been acting like a tyrant since she fainted.

His fingers toyed with her long raven locks. Sophia stirred and started to stretch her body and her neck, only to stop abruptly at the pain in her shoulder when she moved her left arm.

“Careful...” he murmured and helped her up to a sitting position. “How are you feeling?”

She didn’t look at his face and her smile was contained. “Better. Thank you.”

Alistair’s heart clenched. His selfishness now was limited to just one point: he wanted her to need him, want him, love him. No woman in his life had ever cared for him just because he was Alistair Connor. They wanted his position, his beauty, his sex-drive and his money. But not Sophia. He knew she liked and cared for him. He didn’t understand what had changed so suddenly.

Alistair was a very proud man, but not enough to pretend that Sophia loved him the way he needed her to.

He tried a joke to soften the tension. “Were you planning to ignore me the entire flight, you stubborn woman?”

“Sorry,” Sophia murmured, realizing she had no will to ignore him. Not at all. But something inside her was insisting that she needed to understand what she had discovered.

“Do you feel better? Can I open the shades?” He touched the button to open them as she nodded. He pointed to the table by the sofa. “I brought you some tea.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and when she started to sit, Alistair’s arms immediately went around her to help her out of bed.

“I’m not going to break, you know? I’m a tough gal,” she smiled at his tender and mindful embrace.