“Are you sure this is what you want, Sophia?” Victoria asked, surprised at the drawing of the wedding gown Sophia was showing her and her choice of colors.

“I know Alistair would like me to wear white, but…” She shrugged to show her discomfort with the color. “But I’m a widow, Victoria.”

“I see,” Victoria murmured. And examined her sister’s face, with a mischievous smile. “But if that hunk looked at me the way he looks at you and asked me to marry him naked I would.”

“You’re impossible, Vic,” Sophia giggled. “Gabriela will choose her own dress, of course, so please help her with that. I think the main color should be pale-pink, but she can choose whatever she wants.” She fixed Victoria with a serious stare. “Remember, you’ve promised me no one will see my gown or know about it. Not a word.”

“Mm-hmm. Scout’s honor.” She mused as she chewed on the end of her pencil. “Let’s see…” Victoria looked at the design Sophia had drawn and at the fabric samples lying on the table. “We can order some bespoke lace at one of the best manufacturers of Chantilly silk.”

Sophia looked at the drawing and tapped her nails on the table.

“What about a more modern idea? Something like…” Victoria pursed her lips thinking about the dress. “Yeah, this. What do you think?” She turned her pad for Sophia, a light in her eyes. “Can you picture it, Sophia?” She picked up a tiny length of tulle and bunched it up forming a small skirt. Then she swirled the cloth, draped it asymmetrically and with a scissor tattered it. “Here.”

“That’s it! That’s exactly what I want,” Sophia exclaimed.

“And here I thought you wanted just me, mo gràdh.” Alistair’s deep voice sounded from behind her.

Hastily, Victoria opened her bag and crammed samples and sheets of paper inside, winking conspiratorially at Sophia.

“Wow, Sophia, you and Victoria are still discussing the gown?” Valentina asked. “You’ve been in here for at least two hours! Have you decided? Let me see your ideas.”

Sophia didn’t answer, just shook a white envelope in her hand, and stood to kiss Alistair lightly on the lips. “My guest list is ready. We have to design the rest of the stationary and decide on the best men and the maids of honor together, Alistair.”

“Mama, Alistair took me to see the Eiffel Tower. It’s so tall. And we had ice-creams.” Gabriela was hopping around Sophia.

“That’s great, my love.” Sophia knelt to kiss and hug Gabriela. “Why don’t you sit with aunt Victoria and decide on your dress while I work with aunt Valentina?”

“Yes, yes!” She jumped on the sofa and picked one of the magazines on the center table, leafing through it.

“Christ! Colors, flowers, dresses. Too much information. And too many women.” Alistair bowed, mocking, “I bid you good-bye, my ladies.”

“Ah-ah! Come back here, Lord I’m-scared-of-women.” Sophia grabbed Alistair’s sleeve. “You have to work, too. You can ring our butler and ask for a light snack. I’m hungry. Then you can call the concierge and make us reservations at…say…Lasserre, eight o’clock? A table with the vue plein ciel. Gabriela will love it. After that you are going to sit here beside me,” she patted the chair next to her, “and finish your guest list. Carol has finished all her stationary and emailed it to me. I’ve approved it all and she’s already sent them to the printers. They will be ready for the final approval tomorrow morning.”

He quirked a black eyebrow. “Any other order, Marchioness?”

“Besides another kiss, my lord?” She giggled and lifted her lips to him. “Not that I can think of,” she smiled naughtily at him and whispered in his ear, “for the moment.”

“You’ll pay for this, dominatrix,” he murmured back, winding his arms around her and hauling her up for a kiss.

Sophia threw her arm around his neck, slanting his head to deepen the kiss.

“Hey! You two!” Victoria yelled and Valentina ended, “Get a room.”

Alistair stopped the kiss and Sophia turned in his arms, grinning. “You’re jealous. Get a boyfriend.”

Gabriela, sitting between the twins, sighed rapturously, calling everyone’s attention.

“Don’t they look like Beauty and the Beast?” she asked her aunts.

Sophia laughed out loud and Alistair frowned at the little girl and growled, “Who is the Beast, little Fairy?”

An innocent smile lighted Gabriela’s face. “You, of course. Who else?”

Christ! Alistair slapped his hand on his forehead as the twins doubled over with laughter. I deserve that.

* * *

An incessant low ringing woke Alistair.

Careful not to wake Sophia, he disengaged her from his body, rolled to the edge of the bed and fumbled on the bedside table for the phone. “MacCraig,” he answered quietly.

“Wake up and move your ass, Alistair Connor.”

He looked at the digital clock and frowned. “This better be good, Tavish Uilleam. It’s six in the morning.” He sat up on the bed and rolled his shoulders. I’m tired. Too many women to dance with in only one night. He smiled remembering how much fun he’d had with Sophia and the twins at Castel, one of the most exclusive Parisian nightclubs, where a select clientèle of locals and celebrities danced, mingled and spent the night away. They left the club at three o’clock in the morning.

“Are you listening?” Tavish barked through the line.

Alistair rose, shaking his head to whisk away the remains of sleep. “Sorry. I’m still sleeping. What did you say?”

Tavish huffed impatiently on the other side of the line. “Where are you, Alistair Connor? On Mars?”

Alistair stretched and smiled remembering Sophia’s words, “On cloud nine.”

“Jesus Christ, man. Turn on the TV. All the airports are closed and flights have been cancelled. That fucking volcano in Iceland has been spewing out fire and smoke for days and last night it got worse. It’s not safe to fly back in the G6. I sent you Munro an hour ago.”

Alistair scratched his head as he walked to the bathroom, not at all worried. “Really?”

“What happened to you these last few days?” Tavish was taken aback. It was a long time since he’d heard his brother so relaxed and content. “You didn’t even call to check how things are.”

“I’ll tell you later. Call Father and Alice. I’m heading to Airgead and I want everyone there. Inform staff that we are going to celebrate.” He laid the phone on the sink and put it on speaker as he talked with his brother for a few more minutes.

Alistair grinned at his image in the mirror. He had a whole new life in front of him and nothing, not even an erupting volcano hurling its anger at the world, would stop his happiness.

* * *

“Welcome back, my dear.” Lachlann kissed both her cheeks, and unable to stop himself, hauled Sophia into his arms and hugged her. He released her, still keeping her in front of him, and put his big hands on her shoulders. Very seriously, he ordered, “Next time Alistair Connor does something stupid, you call me. I’ll put him back on track.”

Ah, now I know why Alistair and Tavish are so domineering. She smiled at him. “I promise, Lachlann.”

One by one, Alistair’s relatives greeted Sophia and Gabriela as if they were longtime friends. They had all come out to the steps of the fifteenth century castle, with its impressive Palladian and Gothic style, four high turrets and cannon balls on display, standing on the shores of Gairloch bay.

Gabriela turned to Lachlann and asked, “Can you take me to the towers?”

“Of course, my dear.” He picked her up in his arms, silently thanking God that she and Sophia were back in their lives. “I’ve arranged lots of fun things for you: we’re going to pick shells on the beach, swim in the loch, walk in the woods and spy on the fairies in the evening, right?”

“Right!” She clapped her hands and kissed him, before turning to Sophia who had tears in her eyes as she watched the scene. “Right, Mamãe?”

“Right, my angel,” she rasped through her closed-up throat, “anything you want.” She breathed and took in the castle again. “I couldn’t have imagined that Airgead would look so modern,” she mentioned to Alice, “it looks like Galewick Hall.”

“That’s because of a fire in the nineteenth century that destroyed a great part of the castle. The seventh duke employed the same architect, adding a third floor, Sophia,” Leonard explained.

“The Airgead estate covers fifty-thousand acres. We are blessed here. There is excellent brown trout and salmon on the spate rivers. And the bay is filled with squat lobsters, crabs, octopuses, starfish, and much more,” Tavish complemented. “Some of our shellfish ends up on plates of the best restaurants in London. And we offer some of the finest hill and woodland stalking available in Scotland.”

“It’s a must for anyone who loves nature, Sophia,” concurred Alice. “And the gardens are incredible too. Airgead’s gardens receive over seventy-thousand annual visitors, between April and November.”

Beyond the lush lawns of the estate entrance, bordered by ancient sequoias, there were extensive gardens with an outstanding mixture of red and white rhododendrons and azaleas, beautiful Cherry trees, various shrubs and other plants.

“It’s truly amazing,” said Sophia looking around.

“Oh, no. Not this garden,” smiled Alice. “The one at the back, near the loch. That’s really incredible.”

“Come on,” said Alistair, taking Gabriela from his father’s arms and snatching Sophia’s arm from Alice’s. “You can continue this chit-chat inside. I’m hungry and I bet this little girl is too.”

“I want to choose the fish I’m going to eat and I want to see the aquarium as you promised.” Gabriela put her arm around Alistair’s neck and her fingers played with his hair. “Aren’t you going to cut your hair?”

“Ah-ah,” Sophia interrupted before he could answer. “Alistair Connor isn’t cutting anything. I like it like this. He looks like a Highland prince from centuries past.”

Promoted from warrior to prince. Alistair smiled down at Sophia. It’s getting better.

“Prince Charming with long hair?” Gabriela cocked her head back to look at Alistair while she combed his hair.

Sophia grinned at Alistair and enlaced her fingers in his. “My Prince Charming.”

“Hmm,” Gabriela had pulled his hair into a ponytail and was seriously analyzing his face. “The Beast has a ponytail, so I guess you can have long hair.”

Christ! What’s the problem with these women that they love that ugly beast? “I’m not the beast, wench,” he growled.

Gabriela smiled at him, unfazed. “Can I put a blue ribbon in your hair too?”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Nae. “I—”

“Aye, you can.” Lachlann allowed and Tavish laughed from behind as they entered the entrance hall. “He’ll love it, Gabriela.”

Sophia stopped dead in her tracks, craning her neck to be able to see it all. “This is…dramatic.”

The dark Armoury Hall was large and its central ceiling soared up to display the Airgead earldom crest etched on it. Small lights evenly distributed complemented the enormous iron chandelier in the center. On either side were the other crests that belonged to the MacCraig family. Breathtaking displays of arms adorned the walls, with special attention given to antique Scottish claymores, dirks and sporrans.

“The former hall was too modest for Alistair Connor, the Beast, so when he was given Airgead, he ordered the original entrance rebuilt.” Lachlann smirked at his son. “It’s the highest ceiling in Scotland. Seventy feet.”

“God, Alistair Connor,” she eyed him. “And I’m the one with an ego problem?”

“Yeah, you must have an eating disorder too,” he grunted, and towed her to one of staircases at the end of the hall. “Let’s wash up and eat before I turn into a real hungry beast and eat this little girl in my arms.”

Gabriela’s giggles filled Sophia’s and Alistair’s hearts as they climbed the stairs to their rooms.