Don’t think about this anymore, Sophia. Promise me?”

“I’ll try,” she whispered.

Edward slowly released her from his arms and picked up the handset, touching Sarah’s intercom. “Sarah, inform Mr. MacCraig that Mrs. L’s meeting has ended, please. I’m opening the door.” He went to the door and just before he opened it, he looked at her. “Don’t be afraid to love again, Sophia.”

* * *

Fuck. What’s taking so long? Alistair was on the other side of Sophia’s office door, glaring at it, as if his bad mood could open it. He stepped back to allow Edward to pass and stretched out his hand. “Davidoff, good morning.”

“Good morning, MacCraig.” Edward gripped Alistair’s hand firmly in his and, pinning him with his stare, he lowered his voice and whispered, “She’s not ready for you. Go slow.”

The hushed words undid the deep frown on Alistair’s face and he stepped into the room in a lighter, but still displeased mood. As he took in the sea of roses, the result of his impulsive order, a ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

“Morning, Beauty.” He kissed her lightly on the lips and stepped away to look her over and licked his lips, his eyes flashing. “You rob me of my sanity, you know?”

“And you drive me to distraction, Alistair Connor. I’m not going.”

Fuck all difficult women. Alistair narrowed his eyes. “Sophia,” he warned. “I confirmed it with John’s secretary. We are going even if I have to carry you, caveman style, over my shoulder.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“Alistair Co—”

“Sophia.”

She searched his taut, implacable face and crossed her arms over her chest. My God, he is serious. “I told you I don’t take well to orders, Lord Caveman.”

You’re too young and inexperienced to override my decisions with your whims; let’s change tactics.

“Sweetheart, you scared me this weekend with your blackout.” That isn’t entirely a lie. He pulled her to one of the navy suede sofas, making her sit down and gathering her hands in his. “I’m asking you to go with me to an appointment with John Walter so we can feel more comfortable around each other, when it comes to sex.”

“Just so you know, I feel very comfortable with you in bed and my blackouts are normal. Maybe your other partners weren’t as relaxed, as good and as hot in bed as I am,” she smirked at him.

“You’re implying…” He raised his brows at her petulant tone.

Ha! She flipped her hair over her shoulders.

He pulled her to a hot kiss. “Sophia, Sophia. What you do to me. A simple flip of your endless black hair and,” he put her hand over his already semi-hard erection, “I already want to have you against the wall. Here. In your office. In the middle of the morning.”

“A good idea. I’ve never made love in my office.” She cocked her head to the side, staring into his eyes and whispered, “I’d love to test your strength again.”

He inhaled sharply at her answer. “Don’t challenge me, Beauty. I might do it.”

She gave him a smile and shook her head to break the spell. “You are trying to distract me. Back to the subject. No, you did not ask me to go to John’s. You decided it, made the appointment and informed me. You didn’t talk to me first.”

“You are partially right,” he conceded, “but only partially. We have talked about it, Sophia.”

“Talked?”

“Yes, I told you I was going to call John and set the appointment—” he interrupted himself as her brows shot up.

“Let me repeat what you just said. Quote, ‘I told you I was going to call John and set the appointment.’ Unquote. You informed me. There’s a big difference between a conversation and a notification.”

“Fine. I was trying to order you around. It’s…” His knuckles caressed her cheek, tenderly. Fuck my fears. She’s said enough times to trust her. “This is important to me, Sophia. It’s about the issues in my past. It will just be a quick talk. Please?”

“Just a talk?”

“Aye, sweetheart. Just a talk. I’ve informed John’s secretary we needed just a few minutes with him.”

Just a talk. So, no need to disrobe. John won’t see the marks. Sophia perused Alistair, taking in his tailored navy suit and light-blue tie with tiny multi-colored butterflies from Hermès. She gasped silently and immediately scooted back on the sofa. “I don’t take orders, but I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll go. But don’t turn this into precedent. Next time, you will ask me first. Nicely. And, that tie,” she pointed, “has to go. Now. Forever. I’ll buy you a new one on the way.”

He blinked at her swift change of mood and strange request. “You’ll go with me, but I need to change my tie? Why?” His fingers instantly started to undo the perfect Windsor knot.

“I have issues with butterflies and moths,” she shuddered.

He smiled at her. “Don’t tell me you are disturbed by such tiny, pretty things.”

“No. I’m not disturbed,” she shook her head. “I have an insane fear of those ugly, furred and treacherous things that are almost impossible to catch and kill.”

His smile broadened at hearing her idiosyncrasy. “Here.” The tie hung from between his fingers. “It’s yours. Throw it in the bin. Burn it. I don’t care.”

She moved away from it, holding up her hand. “Put it away, please. I’m not kidding.”

He folded his tie and shoved it in his suit pocket, noting her strange reaction. “I never met a person that was scared of butterflies like this.”

“When I was a kid…” She shivered and wrung her hands in her lap. “I developed a phobia. Suffice it to say that if there was a real butterfly in the room, you would see me out of my mind, screaming. It’s irrational.” She glanced at her Santos 100 Skeleton watch. “If we are buying you a new tie, we’d better go.”

“I need another minute. I brought something for you.” Alistair grabbed her in his arms and hauled her onto his lap and his hand took out a black box from his suit pocket. He flipped open the box and an exquisite clip depicting two love birds appeared inside.

“Oh. It’s magnificent,” she breathed as he showed it to her. Her fingers touched the male bird made of yellow gold and yellow sapphires, tracing its wing as it curved around the smaller female of white gold and pink sapphires. Her finger caressed the stunning heart-shaped ruby that formed the male’s belly. “It’s so…fierce, protective. It reminds me of you. It’s…I have no words, Alistair.” She gave him a kiss on the lips. “Thanks, Handsome.”

He put his thumb over her index finger that was positioned on the heart-shaped ruby and murmured to her, “I’m giving you my heart, Sophia. Take good care of it.”

He pinned the clip to her dress over her heart, as she bit her lip and looked down at her hands, a sudden anguish taking hold of her.

He gripped her chin and made her look at him. “What?”

“Too soon, isn’t it?”

“Nae,” he shook his head slowly, staring deep into her eyes. “I would say it’s too late.”

In a fluid movement, he took a red box from his pocket and opened it with a deft flick of his fingers.

She eyed him quizzically. “Another gift?”

“Nae, I don’t know if this could be called a gift…” I’m branding you as mine. “It’s sort of a commitment ring,” he explained. He took out a large white-gold Love ring with diamonds from the box and took her right hand.

Sophia immediately ripped it away from his grasp. “A commitment ring? On my right hand? What do you mean?” Too soon, Alistair Connor, too soon. Don’t destroy my diaphanous dreams. Let me live them for a little while.

He sighed and his head dipped toward hers, his lips brushing against hers as he said, “I want the world to know you’re mine, Sophia.”

“And are you going to wear one, too?” She jumped from his lap, holding her fisted right hand against her breast.

He jerked his head back to look at her and blinked at the fear that showed in her eyes. “Aye, if you want me to, I will.”

And now? Do I want him to wear an engagement ring too? Because this is an engagement, Sophia. Don’t let yourself be fooled. Do I want this kind of commitment? Do I want to see him killed, too? “You will…”

“Aye, I will.” He immediately took his mobile from his inner pocket, searching for a contact and made a call. “Mary Weston, please. It’s Alistair Connor MacCraig. Thank you.” He wiggled his fingers beckoning Sophia to sit by his side as he waited. “Mary, how are you? I need a Love ring for men. For me. What do you suggest?” He gripped Sophia’s hand and pulled her onto his lap again, snaking an arm around her waist, keeping her firmly nestled on him. “Hmm. Hold on, please.” He turned to Sophia, “Do you want to choose it with me?”

Do I? DO I?

“Let’s go together,” he crooned, “I’ve chosen yours, you will chose mine. Is that okay with you?”

Oh, my God. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Mary, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Please, sort them for me. I’m in a hurry. Thanks. Take care.”

Sophia kept looking down at her hands.

“Happy, now?” He curled his fingers under her chin and made her look at him.

“That was not the problem. I just think this is a bit abrupt.”

“And to think I was the one afraid of loving.” He kissed her lips lightly; almost sad, he murmured, “You told me love didn’t scare you.”

Please, try to understand me. “I’m not afraid of loving you. Never,” she shook her head fiercely and her hair bounced around her. She cupped his face in her cold hands and whispered, “But I’m scared to death. Scared of losing everything again. I won’t survive another loss.”

Oh, Beauty. His heart squeezed in his chest and he drowned himself inside her honeyed eyes, so beautiful and honest. He put his big warm hands over hers and rested his forehead on hers and said firmly, “You won’t lose me, Sophia. You. Will. Not.”

“You can’t promise that, Alistair Connor,” she whispered. “Fate decides that; what we want, what we wish, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, at least, I can promise you I’ll try my hardest so you don’t get rid of me, stubborn and commanding as I am.”

The tease brought out a small smile from Sophia. “Amen, my lord Marquis.”

“So…can I put the ring on your finger?”

She blinked. She had forgotten about the ring. “Ah…”

“Sophia, I’m not proposing. It’s not an engagement ring. It’s, as I said, a commitment ring.”

“Like the slave bracelet?” she asked him, with a raised eyebrow.

How cunning, Sophia. “Aye, like the slave bracelet.” He stifled a smile as he fingered the shining bracelet just below her watch and closed his hand around it, the contrast of her lean thin wrist and his long broad fingers gentling his grip.

“Well, then,” she sighed, extending her fingers and surrendering to his beguiling ways. “It seems you like to stake your claim, Alistair Connor.”

He smiled then and murmured against her lips, “Aye, Sophia, I do.”