Cristiane Serruya - Trust: Betrayed

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.

“I’m sorry, John,” she apologized.

“Please,” he waved the whole incident away and looked at Alistair. “Sophia has an IUD with hormones. This means she can’t get pregnant. It’s ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent safe. It works by releasing hormones in the uterus to prevent sperm from reaching or fertilizing an egg, among other things. After some months, it suppresses ovulation. In Sophia’s case, her periods have stopped altogether.”

“No periods?” Alistair looked surprised at her.

“No,” she shook her head.

“And is this healthy?” He swung his gaze back at John.

“Perfectly safe. An IUD can be used for up to five years. Her current one is going to last until,” he put on his glasses and checked Sophia’s file on the computer, “November, 2011.”

Good. Next question. “And what about her last tests?” He heard her profound sigh.

John checked the screen again. “She was here on February twenty-sixth, just after... Ah...” He flickered his eyes at Sophia, who was looking down at her steepled fingers. “The accident at Galewick Hall, had her regular check-up and did all the tests. Blood, urine, ultrasound, STDs, HIV, everything. I’m quite careful about those and she is a very obedient patient. She is clean, like she told you. What else do you want to know?”

“I think that covers everything.” Alistair had the grace to look embarrassed. “Could you ask for the same tests for me so she-”

“There’s no need,” Sophia gently interrupted him.

He looked at her, “Sophia, you-”

“I believe you. That’s enough for me.” You have to learn how to believe in yourself too, Alistair.

Last time I did what a woman told me- Stop this, Alistair Connor. Stop. This. Try to listen to what she is telling you.

John watched, intrigued, the silent dueling of power and dominance between the two of them as emotions crossed over Alistair’s usual poker face, first disbelief, shame, then acceptance.

“I see,” he murmured, giving in, but not at all convinced. “Don’t you want any other reassurance, Sophia?” Please, say you do.

“None,” she shook her head, “besides your word.”

Honor. That’s what she is trying to tell me. His green eyes bore down on hers and what he saw in them made him nod, reluctantly, “So be it. I’ve already given it.” He rose from his armchair and stretched his hand to help her, putting an arm around her waist, squeezing it lightly. “Let’s not waste any more of John’s time.”

“No problem... It was a pleasure to help you. But, please, Alistair, don’t call me every time... Ah... Sophia floats on to cloud nine,” John teased, his face opening in a full smile.

Alistair couldn’t contain his own smile, “No, I won’t. If I did, you wouldn’t be able to-”

“For God’s sake, Alistair Connor,” Sophia slapped Alistair’s biceps, blushing, “behave.”

He laughed out loud. He so loved to watch her blush. “That, sweetheart, I can promise you I won’t do.”

Outside Dr. John Walter’s Office.

12.25 p.m.

“Hey, relax,” Sophia coaxed, caressing his knuckles with her thumb, while they walked out of the clinic. “If you want to have your tests done again, do them.”

“It’s not that.” He looked down at her from his full height, his brows draw over his Cartier gold Santos sunglasses, “I don’t understand why you didn’t let me pay John’s fees. I asked for the appointment. I should pay.”

She blinked and frowned, halting instantly in the middle of the street. She put her hands on her hips and glowered at him, “Alistair Connor. John Walter is my gynecologist. Mine.”

With one step, he stood closer and gripped her chin, taking off her Louis Vuitton sunglasses to peer into her eyes, “I asked for the appointment.”

“So?” she shrugged.

“You are keeping me out and I don’t like it,” he hissed the last words between clenched teeth.

“Ah,” comprehension dawned on her. “But I’m not keeping you out. I’m just setting a boundary for you. And I hope you respect it. Let me make myself clear again, Alistair. John Walter is my doctor. If you need any information concerning me or my body, you first have to ask me if they are available to you.” She slightly narrowed her eyes at him, “I’m not giving you this power. You are already an overbearing-”

The fingers that held her chin plunged into her hair, the other hand, still holding her glasses, snaked around her waist, dragging her flush to his body and he kissed her stormily in the middle of Earl’s Court Road.

He raised his head, panting, “You drive me crazy when you defy me.”

“If this kiss, in the middle of Kensington, is what I can expect for my defiance,” she licked her reddened lips, “then, I think I will defy you again and again.”

“I don’t know if that’s very bad, or very good,” Alistair shook his head, with a smile on his lips.

Her fingers were drawn inexorably to his gorgeous silky hair and she teased, “My lord Marquis, you are so feudalist, demanding full obeisance of your wishes...”

“And you are an anachronism, my lady. You love medieval theologians and philosophers, but also you have totally contemporary and inappropriate teenage behavior. I can’t place you.”

“Teenage? Really?” she smiled, amused. “Mmm. You are not the first to think I behave like a teenager around you. Maybe I give you this impression because when I’m around you, you make me want to do things to provoke you.”

“Provoke me?” He didn’t mind at all that they were in the middle of the busy sidewalk, at lunch hour, and he tugged her hair, making her move her head back to escape the pain.

Her lips stretched and curled open in a devious smile, “I love seeing you out of your depth when I do things you don’t expect. It’s almost... comical. It makes me giddy,” and she finished in a whisper, “and horny.”

Comical? The grip on her hair loosened as Alistair’s jaw dropped open. He was speechless. Not one coherent thought came to his mind to answer her provocation.

“Yeah, teenage perhaps,” she continued and shrugged, “but then, I’m entitled to be a little irresponsible. You’ll just have to come to terms with me,” she paid no heed to his stern regard, “and my behavior. Now, if you want my company for a quick lunch, move! I have to work and Gabriela demands my presence at home by five. Ah,” she rose on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips, “by the way, thanks for the doll. She loved it.”

Alistair’s face split in a huge grin at the mention of Gabriela. “She already called me. What time am I supposed to be at your house tonight?”

“Six, if you want to play with Corolle,” she smirked at him. “Gabriela dines at six-thirty and goes to bed at seven-thirty.” She tugged him by the hand and he pulled her in the other direction. She paused and looked at him.

“This way. I’m going to take you to a new restaurant: Kitchen W8. Have you been there?”

“Not yet. I thought we could get some Chinese food.”

“I’ve already made reservations.”

More orders, Alistair Connor? “Oh. You did.” The sarcasm was not lost on him.

You really don’t take orders well, do you, Sophia? “The food is delicious. Traditional English food, but with a modern twist. You’ll like it.”

“Very well,” she complied.

They walked a few minutes, hand in hand, in companionable silence.

Sophia glanced at Alistair’s thoughtful face, “A penny for your thoughts.”

He looked down at her for a moment and then asked, “You don’t go out much, do you?”

“Not really. I don’t have many friends here and I don’t see the fun in going to the theatre or eating alone in a restaurant. I prefer staying in with Gabriela. Besides, I’m very exacting when it comes to food, in general. From its freshness to the final dish presented to me. I guess it comes from having been a Cordon Bleu student.”

“Hmm, I guess.” He put his arm around her back, dragging her close to him as they walked toward the restaurant. “But...”

“But?”

“That not it, is it, Sophia?”

No. It’s not. I need to remain hidden. “What else could it be?”

He stopped in front of the restaurant door and lifted her sunglasses to look into her eyes, “Why don’t you trust me with whatever secrets you are keeping?”

She looked away and murmured, “There are no secrets, Alistair.”

He gripped her chin in his hand and raised her face toward his, ordering, “Look at me.”

Alistair Connor, you don’t want to discover my dark secrets. And when she gazed into his eyes, her features were already composed.

Alistair wondered what could such a young and innocent woman have done, to keep it buried so deep. “You know, Sophia, this mysterious aura around you... just makes you more enticing. I’ll uncover and solve whatever enigmas you’re hiding.”

Kensington. Kitchen W8.

1.09 p.m.

“Why do you insist on turning me into a hero? I’m no hero, Sophia.”

She gave him a small smile, “A hero is a man who does the best he can. Nothing more.”

Sophia, Sophia. I didn’t do the best I could. I’ve been evil for years. “Hmm. All this just because I sent your daughter a doll?”

“No,” she shook her head. “You really don’t get it. You care, Alistair Connor. Gabriela said she wanted the Corolle doll just once during our dinner yesterday. And you cared enough to remember and send it to her first thing this morning. With your personal card attached. And flowers. This, my dear, is so much more important than anything.”

I... I care? The way Sophia turned what he considered a simple gesture into a grandiose thing left Alistair discomfited and scared. He immediately repelled the good image she made of him, “You see good where there is none.”

“And you see bad always and everywhere,” she retorted instantly. “Why you should have such a poor opinion of yourself eludes me.”

It’s because I know who I am, Sophia. “It’s not a bad opinion, just a fair one.”

She frowned in thought, “I don’t remember who, but someone once said ... The mask, given time, comes to be the face itself.”

“Marguerite Yourcenar,” he prompted.

“Ah, yes.” She looked at him seriously, “Is that what you want to become, a heartless and callous man, a misogynist, who’ll live alone for the rest of his life? Just because you were hurt once?”

Hurt once? Alistair’s thin nostrils flared wide. Careful, Sophia. Dangerous ground. The echoes of his despicable, vengeful wife and the horror of his daughter’s broken body resonated in his mind, but Alistair was stunned to watch the memories through a lighter filter, their surfacing not poisoning him as they usually did.

The approaching waiter interrupted their conversation. “Ma’am, sir, the fillet of cornish pollock.”

“Thank you,” Sophia and Alistair said at the same time. She glanced at him and grinned at the coincidence as he squeezed her hand, his mood lightening in a second.