As Erskine drove along the estate, Alistair continued to point out the different buildings and talking about the rooms, explaining the modifications his ancestors, and later, his parents and he had made along the years. “When my father inherited it everything was rewired, the plumbing and heating were modernized, and he added bathrooms in all the bedrooms. The old and cavernous kitchen near the dining hall was remodeled and a smaller one was built closer to the family dining room. And, recently, I built a spa in the garden at the back of the main building. You’ll like it. It’s smaller, but more modern and refined than Craigdale’s.”

A liveried man opened the car door and she stepped out, craning her neck to admire the impressive house.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Alistair paused behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, looking at the manor too.

“It’s fantastic.” The same coat of arms she had seen on a flag at the heliport was blazoned in stone over the tall portico’s façade. It featured a shield with two horses rampant facing each other, separated by an armored knight holding a sword in front of him. Beneath it, a wide stone ribbon bore an etched heraldry inscription: ‘Veritas vos liberabit’.

It took but a moment for Sophia to translate. “Truth will set you free.” Oh, damn.

“The family motto. One I fiercely believe.” His fingers kneaded her shoulders. He bent his head down and whispered in her ear, “I’ve booked a massage to relax you.”

She whirled and put her arms around his waist. “I don’t need a massage to relax.” She flexed her shoulders. “I’m relaxed.”

He smiled. “Believe me, you’ll need it after I’m through with you.”

“You pervert.” She slapped his butt. “You’d better book one for you, too.” She laughed mischievously. “Don’t you forget that I’m younger—”

His mouth cut off her words in an intense and lustful kiss that left her panting, then he said, “And I’m stronger, lass. Better watch your mouth.”

She laughed again and gave him a kiss on the lips. “Never, my lord, never. It’s so much fun to provoke you. Come on, we are providing a show for your guests and employees.”

“Hmm…” He gripped her slim waist, keeping her in place and looked into her eyes. “I think I’ll cancel that massage and give you one myself. Right now.”

“Do you only think about sex?”

“When I am with you? Aye,” he confirmed, unabashedly. “I can’t get enough.”

“If you behave,” she smiled, and standing on her tiptoes, murmured in his ear, “I have a surprise for you tonight.”

His eyes flamed. “I love surprises. Come, I want to show you a few of the rooms before we go to the gym.” He put his arm over her shoulder and started for the doors.

She looked around the majestic hall. “It’s so grand, Alistair.”

“Aye. I love Ells Hall. Let me warn you,” he said as he climbed the stairs to the first floor and turned left into a small corridor, dramatically paneled in black-and-gold damask silk, “so you don’t have a shock.”

“What?” She smiled at his teasing bow when he opened the last door and she entered the anteroom of the master chamber. It was paneled with oak and had walls hung with ancient tapestries. To the right, through an open door, Sophia could see striking antique furniture composing a small dining area.

“I don’t have OCD. So don’t expect my dressing—” He laughed as she slapped his bicep.

“Stop teasing. I don’t have OCD.”

“Maybe something worse then?” His grin was positively naughty. He directed her to another door that led to the enormous bedroom. “Through here.”

The bedroom was sumptuous and testified to tradition and power. On the floor, an enormous Persian rug gave the room even more grandeur. It was unlike any Sophia had ever seen, covering the floor entirely. Near the windows, there was a seating space with what looked like comfortable but very old armchairs and a sofa facing a large Regency secretaire library bookcase.

Against the farthest wall, an enormous four-poster bed with a gothic headboard, lavishly draped with embroidered black-and-gold velvet, completed the dramatic ambient.

“My, Alistair Connor.” Sophia stopped in front of the bed. She looked at him over her shoulder. “How many can sleep in here? It would comfortably fit you, Tavish Uilleam and your father together.”

Why? Do you want them too? He shooed the thought away and focused on her question. “This bed was commissioned by my great-great-grandfather for his wedding night. He and his wife were both unusually tall and large so they needed space to—”

She whirled around, and slapped his arm again. “Spare me the details.”

When she looked at him, he wasn’t smiling any more. A strange expression lit his face.

Sophia stepped back.

“What?” she breathed.

“You like to hit, don’t you?” He grabbed her upper arms, hauling her flush to his body. He asked in a smooth voice, “Do you like to be hit too?”

“I…I don’t know what you mean.” The pain and violence thing again. “I was just playing around.”

I would love to introduce you to a few new games, Sophia. He sucked on her lower lip before saying, “Sophia. Beware of what you propose as a…recreation. I may like it.”

Sophia stared at him, open-mouthed and breathless. She didn’t know what to say or what to think.

Hmm. Should I introduce you to them tonight? Alistair felt a rush of desire fill him as he thought about the possibility of having Sophia under his control and kissed her with such force that they tasted blood as his teeth bit Sophia’s lip.

She gasped and broke the kiss, putting her fingers on her mouth. When she drew them away they were bloodied. She stared at them for what seemed like an eternity to Alistair, as he waited for her reaction.

“You like it, don’t you?” she whispered so low that he had to strain to hear her.

Slowly, he released her upper arms and wound her hair around his hand, lightly tugging it to make her look into his eyes. “What?”

But her eyes were glued to her reddened fingers as she murmured, “This pain and violence thing. You really like it, don’t you?”

And you, Sophia? Do you like it? “Look at me,” he ordered and she lifted her eyelids. “I told you I did.”

“How much—”

“The amount that is pleasurable to the partner.”

“Partner…” she breathed. Dammit. Here I go again. Stop it, Sophia. Stop. It. Say you don’t like pain. Say it!

“You, Sophia. You’re my partner. If it’s not pleasurable for you, then it’s not for me.” His other hand pressed on her butt, making her feel his arousal at the idea. “Do you want to do it again?”

Sophia’s heart was beating so fast that she felt dizzy. She was hypnotized by how the green of his eyes had darkened and how his voice had turned husky. She opened her mouth to say ‘no’ but a strangled moan left her throat.

His breath hitched, and as he lowered his head to kiss her again, a knock sounded on the outer door.

“Fuck,” he muttered low. Shaking his head, he said, “We are going to take a rain check on this conversation, Sophia.”

“Where’s the bathroom?” she asked, breathlessly.

“That way,” he pointed to the far door, as he went to open the door for the bellboy with their luggage.

Sophia pushed the door open and found another huge room that served as a walk-in dressing room. It had a dramatically painted ceiling. She noted, pleasantly surprised, that his closet was perfectly organized. Separated by a floor-to-ceiling glass wall, there was a gothic chapel-like bathroom with a shower room and an adjoining whirlpool bath to one side and on the other, a double sink with a vanity space with gilded mirrored gothic paneling. In a corner there was another door, which she supposed was the toilet.

Dark and elegant…as he is.

She sat on the chair in front of the mirror, observing her own pale face and slightly swollen lip.

She saw him enter the dressing room with her small suitcase and his bag.

He glanced at her face and dropped the luggage on the floor in the middle of the room.

Oh, fuck! With three long strides, he was by her side, hauling her into his arms. “Don’t freak out. I’m not going to hurt you. Never.”

“I don’t understand this fascination of yours,” she whispered. “And I don’t know if I want to understand.”

“There’s no rush.” He put a hand at the back of her head and brought it to his chest. Don’t freak out. Please, don’t freak out.

Sophia could hear his heart galloping. Is he…scared?

As if to answer her unspoken question, he murmured on her hair, “Your face was so pale…you frightened me.”

She moved her head to look into his eyes, and ran her hands over his broad shoulders until they cupped his face. “I was…stunned at your reaction, and—” Say it, dammit. “Afraid. I don’t want to—” be covered in black-and-blue bruises again.

“I’m not…” He exhaled loudly. He sat on the chair and pulled her onto his lap. “Sophia, on our first night together, I tied, blindfolded, and hit you. What part of that didn’t you like?”

Remembering the sensations and sifting them, Sophia bit her lip and stifled a wince.

“Don’t,” he breathed, caressing her lip with his thumb. “It arouses me.”

She nervously licked her lip.

And he tsked twice. “That only makes it worse.”

Damn. What’s your problem, Alistair Connor? “Should we turn off the lights then?”

A low laugh left his chest with a rumble, “Nae.” He shook his head, amused. “I prefer to make love with the lights on.”

“We are not making love. We’re having a conversation. Or, at least we are trying to.”

He flashed her a crooked grin. “Okay. So, talk.”

“What I didn’t like…” she repeated thoughtfully and looked down at her hands. “Well. I didn’t like it when you hit my thighs. And…but—”

“And? But?” He gripped her chin and made her look at him. An amused glint gleamed in the depths of his eyes. “Are you shy—ashamed to tell me what you like?”

“I’m not used to having this kind of conversation, Alistair Connor.”

“No?” His brows lifted. “Didn’t you talk about sex with Gabriel?”

She blinked at the question. “No. We made love like other people, nor—”

“Normal people?” He smiled.

You and your big mouth, Sophia. “Yes. What was there to talk about?”

His smile grew. “Lots of things. You were inexperienced, weren’t you?”

She nodded, confirming.

“Well, then. What you like most. Where do you prefer to be kissed. What arouses you. Things, Sophia, that only enhance pleasure. How am I to know what you prefer? I’m not telepathic. You have to tell me as I’ll tell you.”

“You are doing great so far.”

“Thanks,” he smirked at her and she rolled her eyes upward. If possible, his smile only grew and he continued, “But I really want to hear you. So. You don’t like that I hit you on the thighs. What else?”

“This is so awkward.” She tried to move her head, but her chin was firmly gripped in his fingers and he instantly put the other arm around her body. Enough, Sophia. You are a lawyer. You can face this. She breathed deep.

“All right. The first time you hit me, it wasn’t bad. I think it’s okay, if it’s just a slap or two in bed. Teasing. But the next slaps were on my thighs, and…”

Oh. Understanding dawned on him. “And on your clit?”

She blushed. “I appreciate your candor, Alistair Connor.”

He almost laughed.

“Yes, I liked it. But they were…er…softer and fewer. As long as it is just for pleasure and it doesn’t hurt.”

“The ties and the blindfold?” His eyes searched hers.

She shrugged. “It was my first time. It’s okay, I guess.”

“Okay? A good okay?”

Sophia blinked a few times before answering softly, “Yes. A good okay. But not every night. And…and, since we are talking about it, you know what I found weird? That need that you have to be reassured. As if I could be thinking about another—”

His fingers stopped the rest of her reasoning. Resting his forehead on hers, he whispered, “Don’t say it, please.”

She kissed the fingers resting on her mouth and enlaced them with hers. “Don’t you know how intense you are? No woman would think about another man while with you, Alistair. You fill the entire space with your presence. And I don’t mean it only physically. You command the eye.” And the heart.

I wish. He lifted his head to stare at her beautiful face and gave her a sad smile. “Do you know that I love you?”

* * *

Good evening, Baptist. I was waiting for you.” Alistair opened his office door and welcomed the burly man in.

“Good evening, Mr. MacCraig. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last.”

“Please, sit,” Alistair motioned to the sofa and sat in his favorite armchair that faced the view of the river.

Baptist handed Alistair a large brown file. “This is what I gathered in the last few days, but if you want me to take a deeper look…”

Alistair felt his mouth dry, suddenly. I need a whisky. He snapped opened the folder and took out the first set of photos. His heart stopped in his chest as he flipped through them.

Nae.

He glanced up to look at Baptist. The man had a sympathetic look on his face.

Alistair cleared his throat.

He opened and closed his mouth twice but the words didn’t come.

“Mr. MacCraig, I’m sorry but there is no doubt. Your wife is cheating on you.”

* * *

I’ve put the girls and Maria in that room,” Alistair pointed to a door on the other side of the corridor as they came back from the spa. “It connects with Alice’s bedroom. So, if they need something, they can bother her.”

Sophia dried her nape with a small towel as she tsked twice, walking beside him to see the room. “So, Alice is Gabriela’s new mother. That’s not right, Alistair Connor. Why don’t you put them near us?”

“We are too loud,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“Oh.” Sophia paused, disconcerted. “You think so?”

He pushed open the door of a suite, luxuriously done in pink and pale yellow damask silk, smiling at her, “Nae. I’m teasing you, Sophia. This room has a secret passage. Gabriela will love it. It leads to the stone tower. And it has a cosy window seat, like ours. Come and look.” He walked past two single four-poster beds straight to the curtains and pushed them open to reveal a large window seat with fluffy cushions. It overlooked the softly illuminated forest.

“It’s beautiful. Gabriela will love it.” She pushed up and stood on the tips of her running shoes and kissed his lips, dropping back graciously onto her soles. “Thanks.”

“Nice move,” he noted. “Do that again.”

She put her hands around his neck and pushed up on her tiptoes, kissing him on the lips again. He hauled her up his body by her ribcage, deepening the kiss. Immediately, she wound her legs around his waist and moaned as she rubbed against his erection.

He broke the kiss and spoke sensually on her lips, “You turn me on like no other woman ever did, Sophia. Will I ever get enough of you?”

“I hope not, my lord. I hope not.”

* * *

Now.” Sophia stopped in the middle of Alistair’s sitting room and pointed at him, with a devious smile on her lips. “You, Alistair Connor, will stay here and read a book for five minutes.”

“I can wait inside—”

“No. Do you want your surprise?” He nodded eagerly. She pointed to an armchair. “Sit there and wait. In five minutes you can knock on the door.”

“Aye, my lady,” he sighed, and went to the bookshelf to choose a book. He muttered under his breath, “Any more orders, ma’am?”

“Yes,” she smiled mischievously as she heard his mumble. “I can think of a few.”

“God help me.” Alistair rolled his eyes heavenward as Sophia locked the door behind her, giggling.

* * *

Good evening, my lord.” She opened his bedroom door to him on the forth impatient knock. “I’m sorry I didn’t promptly answer the door. I just finished cleaning.” And she smiled at him, bowing, “Please, come in.”

Alistair’s mouth fell open as he looked Sophia over. She was wearing a sexy French maid costume made of black leather and white lace. The cupped bra displayed her breasts while a ruffled apron with petticoats tied over her hips barely concealed her naked skin underneath. Her long legs were encased in stockings held by lace garters.

He growled low in his throat as his lust woke up and applauded as she waved a duster on his nose. How can this be possible?

She pulled him inside the room and moaned lightly, locking the door behind him.

He stood there dumbfounded, watching as she wandered around the room, pretending to dust things.

“Clean that lamp again,” he ordered.

She looked over her shoulder, her yellow-diamond eyes sparkling with mischief and flicked the duster carelessly away and lifted her hands to her hair, pulling her ink-black locks loose from the bun. She shook her head, letting the hair pour over her shoulders and down to the small of her back.

“Oh, my lord…” She stepped toward him and divested him of his jacket. Pouting, she murmured, “Let me hang your coat in its place, sir.”

She strolled to his dressing room but paused near an armchair, widened her stance, and looked over her shoulder, purposely biting her lip.

He noticed she was wearing black varnished stilettos and his mind went fuzzy with lust.

Sophia let his jacket fall to the floor and put a hand over her mouth. “Oops! How clumsy of me.”

Alistair swallowed visibly and his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he saw she was naked under her petticoats. “Pick it up,” he demanded hoarsely.

“Yes, my lord.”

She bent over, her buttocks thrust up in the air. Flipping her hair over one shoulder, she looked at him through half-opened eyes, licking her mouth. She ran her fingers down over the back of her thigh.

Grabbing his jacket, she set it on his armchair. Then, cocking her hip to the other side, she put her thumb into her mouth as she looked demurely at him. And sucked it.

He grunted and walked toward her.

Sophia spread her legs wider and bent down again. She tensed slightly as Alistair stepped up behind her. She had never role-played a fantasy like this.

“Oh, Sophia, you shouldn’t have.” He unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his hips and grasped her hips firmly, jerking her back against his arousal.

A groan left him as he rubbed his hard manhood along the cleft of her ass.

That first touch of flesh reverberated as a shock through Sophia. She moaned and was caught off balance by the position, but his strong hold kept her steady.

His hard erection was feverish, instantly sparking flashes of desire whenever it touched her. Pure undiluted lust made her dizzy.

“Alistair,” she moaned.

Slowly she stood back up, flexing her legs, caressing and sliding against him. His face instantly dipped down, burying in the hollow of her neck, taking a deep breath.

“I love your smell,” he murmured. “White roses, orange with vanilla. Makes me want to eat you.” Again she rubbed her ass over his arousal and Alistair groaned, “I want you. Now.”

He didn’t give her a chance to comply, as he lifted her up high in the air, turning her in his arms as if she were light as a feather and put her down on the bed. He shoved down his jeans and ripped off his shirt, throwing it behind him. His eyes flamed green.

Alistair stroked his long fingers over her legs, and gripping them, he pulled her to the edge of the bed. And thrust.

She moaned at the sudden onslaught as he filled her. Each time they were together, it was like lightning washed over her.

Alistair held still for a brief moment, letting her adjust to his girth. Her legs wrapped around his lean hips and she locked her feet over his ass. He ran his hands over her thighs again. “You have strong, beautiful legs,” he whispered to her. “Hold on to me. Don’t let go,” he ordered as he withdrew, only to thrust hard in long even strokes, pushing deeper into her.

His hands glided up over her and bared her nipples, pinching them into hard buds and he ordered, “Put your hands over mine.”

Sophia put her hands over his and he changed position, covering hers with his. He held still inside her and his lips split in a devilish smile as he said, “Pinch your nipples.”

Sensations exploded from the touch as her fingers mingled with his. She gasped, obeying his command and arching on the bed.

Alistair groaned in approval. One of his hands moved down to her hip to control her body as he restarted to pump into her in hard thrusts; the other hovered over her clit, tantalizing her senses.

“Ah.” Her body clenched around his as he rode her to the edge of her desire. “Yes, please.”

Their moans blended in his bedroom, growing louder with each long plunge of his hard length inside her.

Suddenly, her body tensed on the bed, arching beautifully before him as the tremors of release took over her and Sophia screamed his name in delight.

She tightened almost painfully around him, and Alistair grunted loudly as his orgasm took control of his body. He stiffened and burrowed deep in her body in several hard jerks as her name ripped from his throat in a grunt.

Alistair fell over her, leaning on his forearms, as his violent thrusts fired a last shot of desire through his body, he gasped, almost incoherently, “I love you.”

Sophia blinked at him and sighed breathlessly, still in a far away wonderland.

“I love you,” he repeated, kissing her lightly on the lips and studied her face as he lay beside her, untying her bra and apron and flinging them on the floor beside the bed. He gathered her in his arms, waiting for her to come back to earth, thinking of how much he had changed in so little time.

He was thirty-four years old when he met Sophia over a loan contract meeting. He had spent his thirty-fifth birthday alone, sulking in that very room, drinking himself into a stupor to dull the pain and guilt he felt for his daughter’s death, wishing he were dead, too. Now, the mere idea of not having a chance to live and share his life to the fullest with Sophia, pained him.

Tell her, Alistair Connor, tell her. You can’t avoid this issue forever.

Based on her behavior of late, he tried to analyze how she might feel about his past and his story with Heather. Outwardly, she’d shown only joy when with him, never asking about his wife. But privately, he knew she had unresolved feelings, that she was conflicted. Maybe because she still loves Gabriel.

Sophia rubbed her cheek on Alistair’s shoulder and her finger drew random designs on his wide chest.

He watched as the fire in the hearth danced over her body, illuminating and shadowing it in beautiful hues of orange.

Unsure if he was doing the right thing, he mustered his courage and, paving the path to the story of his past, said softly, “You were the best thing that could have happened in my life.” He tightened the arm wrapped around her waist. “There is something in you that keeps my evil locked deep inside.”

“Here you go again.” She lifted her head to look into his eyes. She knew she would find them troubled. There were so many things he kept buried inside him. “I don’t have this power, Alistair. It is all in here.” She poked at his chest. “I have never seen this darkness of yours. It eludes me. Don’t demonize yourself.”

He sighed and pushed up, bringing her with him, sitting reclined on the cushioned headboard. He shifted until she was nestled between his bent legs, sideways on his chest. “You could say I had an alter ego.” He paused and a bitter laugh left his lips. “I hope you’re not afraid of horror stories. It’s time you met the monster, Sophia.”

“God, Alistair.” She turned to look at him, both hands palmed on his broad chiseled chest. “You’re not a monster.”

“Such trust you have in me,” he scoffed. “You are too young and innocent, Sophia. Let me introduce you to Mr. Hyde.”

Sophia opened her mouth, but Alistair put a finger on her lips.

“Hush,” he said. “Hear me out.”

A creepy feeling chilled her, making her shiver. She snuggled closer to Alistair’s body. He was always warm.

She looked at him. He was lost in his recollections. His face was turned up, his eyes closed.

“I first met Heather at the bank Christmas party in December, 1999.”