Authors: Cristiane Serruya

Tags: #love_contemporary, #love_erotica

Trust: Betrayed (36 page)

BOOK: Trust: Betrayed

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Why has she left me?
When Isis discovered Eve in Ethan’s bed the morning after his birthday, he expected her to be angry, but she gave them her blessing, saying that she preferred that Eve had her first time with a gentleman like Ethan and that she was happy they were dating. Niarchos had also congratulated Ethan. Everybody was happy.

So, what went wrong?
Disobeying his grandfather’s orders, he returned to the house, blinded to the beautiful flowers and hummingbirds that graced the garden.

12.20 p.m.

Ethan slowly pushed open his grandfather’s home office door. He had no more strength left inside him. The sound of feminine voices made him stop.

Eve. So she regretted leaving and has come back.
A smile split his face and he brushed away his tears. But as he eavesdropped, his smile waned.

“You played your parts well, my dears.” Niarchos kissed Eve and Isis on the cheek and handed them an envelope each. “I’ve been generous with the bonuses. I have to congratulate you, Eve. You are an accomplished actress.”

“Monsieur Angepopoulos, it was my most agreeable job,” Eve said, matter of factly. “Your grandson is a gentleman. A little green compared to you, but still a delicious treat. I wish all my clients were hunks like you and your grandson.”

Clients? What... Eve was paid? She’s a... prostitute?
Ethan was astounded.

Niarchos chortled. “Thanks, my dear. Next time,
I
want a taste of you.”

Eve laughed. “
Mon chèr
, that would be my pleasure.”

How dare she! How dare they!
Something broke inside Ethan’s soul and he lost his temper. He pushed the door wide open and shouted, “You slut! You faked it the whole time, didn’t you?” He advanced in Eve’s direction, grabbed her by the arms, turning her to him, heaving with anger. “You whore! You-” He slapped her so hard that she fell on the floor.

“Ethan!” Niarchos’s voice boomed in the room. “Control yourself.”

“And you, Grandpa! You!” He didn’t know what to say. He was too confused. He never thought that his grandfather would betray him like that. He turned and ran away from the office. He didn’t want to see her. Never again. He didn’t want to face his grandfather.

Ethan ran. He ran through the garden and reached the beach. And continued running.

His tears blinded him and he tripped and fell on the sand. He rose and ran, entering the sea, not even bothering to take off his shoes, and swam away. He heard his grandfather calling his name, but he kept on swimming.

He didn’t know how far or how long he swam. He only stopped when his eyes were stinging from the salt and his arms and legs couldn’t carry him any farther.

Then he turned and looked at the lonely old man sitting on one of the reclining chairs with his head in his hands. His gray mane of hair glimmered under the sun.

Niarchos Angepopoulos was Ethan’s only family now.

And he was there at the beach.

Still there. Waiting for him to return.

Ethan swam back.

Ells Hall.

Thursday, April 1
^st, 2010.

8.18 p.m.

Sophia entered the game room, wearing a silvery ankle length gown that made Tavish whisper to Leonard, “Oh, this is so fucking unfair. Some guys have all the luck. She looks like an angel.”

“Sophia is not just an angel, Tavish Uilleam,” Leonard said to his brother-in-law, with an amazed tone in his voice. “Not by a long shot.”

At that moment, she looked totally innocent, standing by the grand piano in the corner, unaware of the men discussing her. She only had eyes for the rugged man in front of her.

The dress clung sensuously to her curves without being overly tight. The sleeves and the skirt flared and swung as she walked. The marks on her neck were long gone and the neckline enticed the eye. Her hair hung down to the small of her back in a dark cascade beckoning for caresses.

To Alistair, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. And she was his. No one else’s. He looked around the room and discovered Tavish and Leonard observing Sophia, their gazes glued to her. He pulled her by the hand to the piano bench, “Come. Play with me.”

“Alistair has had his share of misfortune,” Leonard said, turning back to Tavish. “I wouldn’t wish what he’s been through on my worst enemy.”

Tavish looked at his brother-in-law and pondered his next question. “You know, don’t you?”

“What?” Leonard was very ethical and never talked about his clients. No matter what. No one in the family knew that Alistair had gone to him asking for help.

“About Heather. That she was cheating.”

This he could talk about. Everyone knew that Heather had been unfaithful. Leonard frowned slightly and said in a low voice, “Tavish, as always the spouse is the last to know. I’m sure Alistair thinks no one knows.”

“He never talked to me. Did he-”

“No, we never spoke overtly about it. But if he had come to you, would you have been able to tell him, your estranged brother, that the woman you abhorred and had counseled against was cheating on him?”

Tavish sighed and shook his head, “Nae, I guess not.”

“Let’s keep it that way, then.” Leonard changed the subject as Alexander joined them, but Alistair’s image of when they were younger came back to his mind.

He looked to where Sophia and Alistair were seated, playing the piano together. Leonard sighed. He knew that Alistair’s scars ran deep and that time didn’t make one forget the kinds of things that had happened to him. There was some hope, however. Sophia was just what Alistair needed. Looking at them together, Leonard wished his friend found peace within himself not to mess up with her.

11.37 p.m.

“I’ve told you, Alice, I’m not going to be the duke,” Alistair said harshly, startling Sophia, who was talking with Leonard.

A silence filled the library and Alistair looked at Tavish. “You are, Tavish Uilleam. Get ready for it.”

“Your brother is only second in line.” Lachlann prompted. “And you’re young. You could still have an heir.”

Sophia felt Alistair stiffen beside her.

“This subject is not open for discussion.” His other hand on his thigh was fisted so hard its knuckles were white.

Sophia looked at the sudden stern faces and tensed.
So... They don’t know.
She squeezed Alistair’s hand gently.
But what about artificial insemination or adoption?
The thoughts left her reeling.
Oh, I’m sure we can find a way
.

Alistair looked at her, an anguished expression in his eyes, “The next duke will be Tavish Uilleam. So, he should get married soon and beget an heir for the dukedom.”
Because there’ll be no heirs coming from my rotten cock.

“But why? I don’t get it, Alistair Connor,” Tavish shook her head.

And I’m not going to explain it to you.
“This discussion is closed.”

Sophia silently glanced at Alistair’s profile; lines bracketed his mouth, his lips were set in a thin line and his eyes were mere slits, the long black lashes almost fusing. She could see that he was holding his temper in check by a thin thread. She scooted closer to him, not sure what to do, but trying to transmit a bit of comfort. He intertwined his fingers with hers, squeezing them.

“When you inherit the title-” Lachlann tentatively started.

“Want me to disclaim it?” His breath altered. “I can do it first thing tomorrow.”

“Stop talking nonsense, Alistair Connor,” Alice’s demeanor darkened and her temper flared, when she noticed Lachlann’s disappointed grimace.

“Alice-” Leonard started just to be interrupted by his wife, “You’ll regret it when you have a son-”

“Enough!” Alistair roared, banging his open hand on the sofa arm, heaving. He looked around staring at each one in the room, but avoiding Sophia’s gaze.

“Enough.” He repeated in a lower and more controlled voice. He was squeezing their fingers so hard that it hurt Sophia.

A awkward silence ensued for a few seconds before Sophia offered as a change of subject. “Do you hunt here, Lachlann?”

“Only if no one is near.” Leonard immediately grasped the opportunity to make things light again. He winked at Sophia. As she looked at Leonard, puzzled, he explained, “Lachlann never manages to hit anything, so he hunts with Erskine. Erskine makes the shot, and Lachlann brings it back saying he shot it. Alice shoots better than he does.”

Lachlann laughed. “It’s you who has poor aim, Leonard.” He eyed Sophia. “Do you hunt?”

“I’ve never had the opportunity,” Sophia answered and she could feel Alistair’s body slowly relaxing.

He turned to her. “Do you know how to shoot?”

“No.”

“We can go tomorrow, if you want,” Lachlann suggested. “One of the trails goes through the forest. It’s very beautiful this time of year. And the roebuck season has just started.”

“I can teach you to shoot. It’s not difficult,” Alistair offered.

“Nae,” said Tavish, with a weird expression on his handsome face. He lifted from his place and walked toward the door, limping noticeably. “It’s not difficult, Sophia. In fact, it’s amazingly easy to kill a living being.” He paused on the threshold. “Count me out. I’ll stay with the kids. Good night.”

Even though he closed the door softly behind him, it seemed like a loud bang was heard in the room.

Lachlann sighed and turned to Sophia, “I’m sorry, my dear. Tavish Uilleam is moody sometimes.”

Both of your sons are, Lachlann.
“Please,” Sophia waved away his apology. “It will be nice to explore the forest, even if I don’t do any shooting.”

“Very well.” Lachlann rose from the sofa. “So we’ll change our schedule for tomorrow. We can go riding in the afternoon, since they’re easier to find at dusk. We can leave here around six. We’ll be at the trail in an hour or so.”

Leonard stood up too and turned to his father-in-law with a smile, “Is Erskine coming too, Lachlann?”

“Sophia, I’m counting on you to bear witness to my good aim.” Lachlann made a face at Leonard. “Next time Leonard says anything, I’ll call on your testimony.”

“My pleasure, Lachlann,” Sophia agreed.

“See you at breakfast, then,” Alice said, entwining her fingers with Leonard’s as they exited the room. “Good night, everyone.”

Alexander, Andrew and Domitila rose too, bidding their goodnights. When the library door closed, Alistair raised from the sofa and poured himself a whisky, “Want one?”

Sophia shook her head as she watched Alistair drink his whisky neat, in one gulp, and poured himself another, his stiff spine revealing the tension in him, despite his controlled expression. He leaned against the edge of the huge mahogany desk sipping his drink.

“You’ve seduced me all evening in this dress of yours,” he managed to force the words past his tight throat.

Oh, please, Alistair Connor.
Sophia almost rolled her eyes heavenward at his futile attempt to dismiss the topic that he knew she was going to broach. She joined him by the desk. “I think I want a whisky after all.”

When he handed her the glass, she gulped it down as he had done and put the glass down with a defiant thump.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she stepped closer, looking up at his forest green eyes.

“They don’t know, do they?”

He didn’t ask what she was referring to. He just thinned his lips and shook his head. Everything in him indicated he didn’t want to talk about the subject, but Sophia was as stubborn as him and persisted. She had to know what he thought about her wish to have more children.

“Why are you so set against having an heir-”

“I told you I’m sterile.” His voice was icy and he bent his head to kiss her, intent on changing the subject.

Despite the heated kiss, Sophia would not let him digress. “So what? Are you opposed to adoption or artificial-”

“Sophia.” He put his hands on her hips and pulled her flush to his body. His eyes glued to hers, “Heirs to the Craigdale dukedom are only thus considered if they are male heirs of the body lawfully begotten. No adoptions or donate semen could supplant what I can’t do anymore.”

Oh! Sophia, you are so stupid.
“So your children... if adopted or... Would never-”

“Never.” His eyes clouded briefly and then blazed green flames. Before Sophia could comprehend the emotion that flickered there, he spun her around and bent her down over the desk.

She gasped, surprised as he stepped closer and his hand grabbed a handful of her dress throwing it over the small of her back.

“I will have you on this desk. Open your legs.” His thick thigh nudged her legs open from behind and he pulled down her panties as he opened his trousers. He pressed his torso onto her back and the tip of his erection brushed her.

“No foreplay, Sophia,” his hot breath fanned her cheek and he brushed her hair away to nip her earlobe and her neck.

“The door,” she reasoned as desire pooled in her body.

“Fuck the door. Fuck everything.” He grabbed her hair in his fist and angled her head so he could kiss her.

Sophia closed her eyes in pleasure as he pushed, firm and sure, prying her body open. The pressure of him inside her, gliding forward and then back, in shallow thrust was pure heaven and made her moan in delight, “Ah!”

He paused, “Am I hurt-”

“Don’t stop.” Sophia’s fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady herself as Alistair pressed her against the desk, holding her hips, as he pushed himself deeper still.

Sophia moaned, clutching the table, turned on by the possibility of their being discovered.

With a hard jerk and a loud groan, he plunged to the hilt inside her, only to yank roughly back and inside again.

His arousal hit deeper than ever inside her body and she cried low, “Alistair Connor!”

BOOK: Trust: Betrayed

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