TRUST Series 1-8 Read online

  “Impressive, Leonard,” she murmured, suppressing a sigh of relief. “Have you been to Brazil before?”

  “Well, I have that advantage,” he smiled at her. “I’ve been there three times; first to Rio on my honeymoon and twice later to São Paulo for work. Why do you have a Portuguese passport?”

  “Two of my grandparents are Portuguese and they’ve lived in Brazil since they were children. I also have Italian heritage somewhere on both my parents’ lines.”

  “Your husband is also Brazilian?” Leonard asked.

  Instinctively, Sophia’s right hand grabbed her upper left arm. “I’m not married. Not anymore.” She managed a weak smile. “I’m a widow.”

  Leonard looked at her with sympathy in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sophia, you wear a wedding band, and you look too young to be a widow.”

  She gave a strangled laugh. “Death doesn’t ask your age when it decides to strike. As far as my ring is concerned, it helps keep men at bay.”

  He looked at her for a few seconds. Before he returned his attention to his work, he said, “Maybe.”

  “So, Sophia, you live in Brazil?”

  Grateful for the change in the conversation, she replied, “No, Mr. Ashford, I live in London.”

  “We’ve returned to the Mr. Ashford thing, have we?

  “Sorry. Ethan,” she acquiesced.

  “And where do you study?”

  Sophia laughed and Ethan frowned at her.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m not a student anymore. Well, not an undergraduate student.” She jutted her chin at Leonard. “I’m The Lawyer Duke colleague.”

  Again Leonard’s head came up. “I think you’ve turned the tables, I’m at a disadvantage now.”

  She looked at him mischievously. “You see, Leonard, we have crossed paths in court.”

  “Impossible. I would have remembered you.”

  “Oh,” she mocked, “should I thank you for this remark?”

  “Of course. You’re a beautiful woman.”

  “Now I’m offended.” She rolled her eyes heavenward. “I prefer to be remembered by my intelligence and wit.”

  “Sorry, Sophia.” He laughed and shuffled his documents together, giving up his work and putting it away and closing the table with the touch of a button.

  Ethan rearranged himself on the seat, crossing his legs, an ankle resting on a knee.

  “So, pray tell, where have you been spying on me?”

  “Spying? You don’t necessarily hide yourself.” As I do. “Besides, you’re a well-known lawyer. Your summations gather quite a crowd at court. And, well,” she grinned again, “I have taken my best students twice this year to make a study of your cases.”

  “I’m flattered,” Leonard answered.

  “Oh, no,” Ethan said sardonically. “A lawyer and a lecturer. Not possible, you don’t look older than…hmm, nineteen.”

  She smiled.

  “Oh, come on. It’s not polite to ask a woman her age, but how old are you?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Still very young. Where do you lecture?”

  “Cambridge University.”

  The men were flabbergasted.

  “At Cambridge…” Leonard muttered. “What do you teach?”

  “I’m just a temporary lecturer in criminal law,” she said, dismissing her accomplishment. “I did pro bono work for women in Brazil and I’m also involved in it here.” She got excited. “When I was an undergraduate, I helped with the creation of a law to protect women from domestic violence. After that, I dedicated myself to work with disadvantaged women. They still have a very hard time living with so many expectations…” She trailed off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you.”

  “No,” interjected Leonard, “not at all. It is a very interesting subject.”

  “When you speak of women you don’t include yourself,” Ethan remarked. “Why?”

  “I’m privileged. I really don’t have any major problems,” she smiled and waved her hand minimizing her difficulties. Change the subject. Don’t discuss yourself. “But pro bono doesn’t pay the bills, does it, Leonard?”

  He laughed. “No. What is your specialty?”

  Oil. “My specialty is mergers and acquisitions, finance, corporate governance, you know…this pays the bills.” Stop, Sophia. You’re giving too many hints. “But I can’t let go of the pro bono work. It’s an obsession. So I volunteered as a helper.” Okay, it’s not entirely a lie. My foundation is kind of pro bono.

  “And you do pro bono in family law too?” Leonard asked.

  “No. I abhor family law.”

  “You don’t like it? Why not?”

  Her face hardened and her voice turned icy, “As a rule, people tend to forget the most important things in life when money, power, and lust are involved.”

  Leonard tilted his head. “What do you consider the most important things in life?”

  “Love, friendship, and family.” She looked away. “Respect.”

  “Beautiful words,” Leonard murmured.

  “People with morals and principles don’t fight over peanuts and use children as cannon fodder. What I’ve seen at these kinds of proceedings makes me want to vomit.”

  “This is real life. Few have those scruples,” Ethan said cynically. People use children in worse ways than you can think of.

  “Have you been married or have children?”

  No, and I never will. “I don’t need to. I know what life and people are made of.” Unfortunately.

  “Well, it seems that I have been luckier than you. My marriage was very, very happy.” Until they killed my husband. “As were the marriages of my family.”

  “You’re a dreamer, Sophia,” said Ethan.

  She examined her manicured long dark blood-red nails and a bright smile opened on her face. Maybe I am a dreamer. “But if one stops believing in dreams, life loses its meaning, loses its colors.”

  Discreetly, Ethan appraised Sophia, admiring her beautiful body which her turquoise-and-white Chanel suit didn’t conceal, and the enticing cleavage the light-green silk shirt showed.

  She will be mine. “Where are you staying in Geneva?”

  He is too inquisitive. “At a hotel.” She licked her lips nervously.

  Ethan shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “And this hotel has a name?”

  Stop being paranoid. He is an internationally known businessman. “You’re very curious, aren’t you, Ethan?” She forced a smile.

  “Quite. Does it have a name or not?”

  “C’est le Domaine de Châteauvieux, un très petite hôtel au coeur—” She shook her head. “I’m, sorry, it’s—”

  “I speak French perfectly. I understood you.”

  Sophia heard Leonard’s low chuckle. “I bet. But I hate when I mix languages.”

  “It happens,” Ethan set aside her fault.

  “How many languages do you speak?” Leonard asked.

  “A few. Portuguese, English, and French are my native languages. I learned a few others as well.”

  “You’re a great asset.” Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Interested in a partnership?”

  “Your offer is an honor, but I already work with a lawyer,” she winked at Leonard.

  “Where do you work?”

  “I work with Professor Holbrook.”

  “From Holbrook and Barton?”

  Oh, damn. “Ah… Yes.” Sophia, be careful.

  “Where did Holbrook find you?” Leonard asked. “He’s a friend. We have a kind of partnership. How long have you been working there?”

  “Let’s say I found him,” she answered cryptically. Let’s keep this lie as truthful as possible.

  “You came to see a client in Geneva?” Ethan asked.

  “No.”

  “Are you here on business?” he insisted.

  “Yes. But I don’t usually talk about business except with the client, Ethan,” Sophia replied.

  “Can’t or won’t?” Et
han insisted.

  “Ashford, you know we must follow some rules,” Leonard intervened.

  “Oh, Allenthorp, sometimes you’re too boring,” Ethan huffed. “You like to keep things in the dark, don’t you, Sophia?” Mysterious, sexy woman.

  Sophia drank her water, then licked her lips, taking her time to think of an answer, totally unaware of the effect she had on the man in front of her.

  Ethan felt the blood run hotter in his veins and he gripped the arm of his seat harder.

  She played with a lock of her hair, twisting it around her finger and curled up her lips slightly. “Things are more exciting when one unveils them bit by bit. One loses interest fast when they’re too easy.”

  The flight hadn’t been as bad as they expected and they landed at Geneva International Airport fifty minutes after takeoff. They hurried inside the building, laughing, all composure lost in the frosty air. The temperature had dropped to below zero and the snow was already falling.

  “So, can I give you a ride back to London? I’m leaving tomorrow at three o’clock, possibly four, if that’s okay for you.”

  “No, thank you, don’t worry,” she smiled at him.

  “You didn’t like my company,” he teased.

  “I didn’t say that, Ethan.” She grinned at him. “I’m not flying back tomorrow. I have many important things to do. They’ll take time.”

  “Are you going to spend the weekend here?” He found her even more beautiful with her cheeks rosy from the cold. “When are you returning? I can wait for you.”

  “No, thanks,” she said firmly but with a charming smile. “I don’t want to be a burden.” She pushed the sleeve of her suit to look at her watch. “I have to go.”

  Ethan’s hand gently held her left wrist. “I like your Santos 100 Skeleton watch. It’s quite a masterpiece.” He turned her arm from right to left. “It’s not common to see a woman wearing this kind of watch.”

  It was Gabriel’s. “And what is the kind of watch a woman should wear?” she asked, teasing.

  He smiled. “It’s just that this watch is too masculine, too large for your delicate wrist.”

  “Well, I normally wear masculine watches,” she smiled and extricated her wrist from his grip.

  “You’re a bold woman, aren’t you?” His azure eyes sparkled.

  And you’re a seducer, Mr. Ethan Ashford. Sophia smiled and said, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ethan. Thank you very much for the pleasant flight.” She took a card out of her wallet, but put it back and searched for a different one.

  Leonard stifled a chuckle. She was dismissing Ethan.

  “Here,” she handed a card to each man and tucked theirs into her wallet. “Leonard, it was an honor. Call me next week to collect your lunch. You pick the place. Take care.”

  She turned and walked away.

  Ethan stood there, staring at the gentle sway of Sophia’s hips, thinking of the many ways he wanted to have her, of the many places: in the plane, at his office, in his bed. He shifted from one foot to another, trying to ease the discomfort between his legs.

  The flight had been torture. Sitting in front of her, smelling that sweet scent that wafted from her, wanting to touch, to feel, to taste and not being able to. Jesus. She’s intelligent, bright, and lovely; I have to give in, she’s not like the others. And most of all, she has fire. I’m sure. It’s just unlit or smothered. But then, I’ve always loved playing with fire.

  “Allenthorp,” said Ethan, slowly shaking his head, trying to dispel the fog of desire that clouded his brain.

  “Yes?” answered Leonard, noticing the resolute way the woman marched through the corridors of Geneva Airport. He looked again at the card and murmured to himself, “Strange. The contact is not from Holbrook & Taylor.”

  “She will return with me. I will see to it,” Ethan decided.

  “Wanna bet? A thousand pounds says she won’t,” Leonard said, amused.

  “Done,” Ethan replied, punching his friend’s arm lightly. “Prepare the check.”

  Ethan’s laughter rang in the air of Geneva Airport and heads turned to look at the stunning pair of businessmen, one dark and one fair.

  Yes, I love playing with fire.

  Chapter 2

  Switzerland, Geneva

  Outside Geneva International Airport

  8:17 a.m.

  What a lucky stroke of fate that I met Ethan Ashford. Sophia walked toward the driver she usually had at her disposal in Geneva.

  “Monsieur Didier, bonjour. How are you?” She gave him a bright smile.

  “Madame Leibowitz, good morning. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” The middle-aged man smiled back. “Let me help you.”

  He picked up her carry-on and headed to the parking lot toward a black Mercedes S600 Pullman Guard.

  Sitting behind the steering wheel, he asked. “Where to, madam?”

  “Well, I’m early for my meeting, so I thought I’d check in first, monsieur.”

  “Do you know if my sister and brother have arrived?”

  “Oui. Mademoiselle Valentina et Monsieur Santo arrived yesterday evening. I picked them up myself at the airport.”

  “Great,” she said, then called her brother’s cell phone.

  “Hi, Sis.” Felipe’s mellifluous voice came through to her over the speaker.

  “Felipe.” Sophia felt tears well up in her eyes when she heard his voice. “I’ve just arrived. How are you and Valentina? Why didn’t you call me yesterday? Why didn’t Carol come? Do you like the hotel? Have you already seen the floor plans? And the photos?”

  “As always, so many questions.” He laughed. “Yes, we love the hotel. We’ve seen the floor plans—they’re sensational. We have seen the photos, and they’re disgusting. However, Valentina and I are sure we can fix and restore every inch that was redecorated. Carolina was…otherwise occupied. We didn’t call you because we arrived late and we were quite tired and jet lagged.”

  “Sorry, but it’s just that I’m so excited to see you again that I forgot.”

  “I think you’re excited to buy your new house,” he teased, chuckling.

  “Felipe!” She heard Valentina laughing in the background. “Tell Val that after I sign the deed, we’re going skiing for a couple of hours. Be ready. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  It seemed like it had been eons since they had done something together like this. Her family lived scattered around the world now.

  Sophia relaxed against the comfortable seat, enjoying the view.

  Geneva was one of her favorite places. Its atmosphere, its bustling streets, and many shaded squares invited her to stroll.

  She loved the contrasts of the city, the way it stood unchanged next to the lake, the familiar waterjet spouting the beautiful column of water and the possibility of seeing Mont Blanc on a clear day.

  I still remember clearly the first time I visited here.

  It had been a month after her parents’ death, when her grandparents sent her and her younger sister, Carolina, to a boarding school in Lausanne for a year. She had hated the city at that time, now she understood it was the best thing her grandparents could have done for them.

  When Sophia exited the car at the old vineyard farmhouse that had been transformed into an elegant hotel, the youngest of her gorgeous twin sisters ran outside to embrace her.

  No one would have guessed that Valentina and Sophia were sisters. Sophia was dark-haired and of average height, whereas Valentina was blonde, blue eyed, slender and petite; an exact copy of their mother.

  “Sophia! How are you?” Valentina kissed her and stood back to look at her. “You’re looking much better. You looked like a hag last time in Rome.”

  “Great to know your thoughts, sister dear.”

  “Sorry, darling.” She smiled and shrugged. “What can I do if the truth hurts?”

  Sophia rolled her eyes at her sister and pulled her inside the hotel. “Felipe told me that you liked the floor plans and that you think you can repair t
he house.”

  “Yes,” she brimmed. “I’m going to love working on this project, Sophia. I have to show you our first ideas.”

  “Where is Felipe?”

  “In your suite. It has a big dining table. We have been working there since yesterday evening.”

  Sophia stopped Valentina with a hand on her arm and asked seriously, “How is he?”

  Valentina frowned. “He doesn’t speak of her anymore, Sophia, but he is tortured, haunted. You, better than anyone, know how it feels to lose someone you love.”

  “He still blames himself?”

  Valentina’s eyes scrutinized Sophia’s face. “And you, you were?”

  Sophia looked down. “It’s different. They confessed that it was me they wanted. Gabriel died because of me.” She blinked to whisk away the tears that gathered in her eyes. She sighed, despondent. “There was no way Felipe could have prevented her death. The truck hit on her side of the car. The guy slept at the wheel. He wasn’t guilty, Val.”

  “I know, I know,” she shrugged. “But he doesn’t. Her photos are still all over the flat. Worse, Renata’s family calls him all the time.” Valentina shook her head. “I guess it’s hard to overcome something when it keeps turning up.”

  “Even if it doesn’t.” Sophia’s eyes saddened. “Believe me.”

  Felipe was absorbed in making notes on the floorplans spread over the dining table and didn’t notice his sisters enter the room.

  Sophia paused at the door, using the moment to look at her beloved brother. Felipe could have been her twin if not for the age difference of exactly six years. He had a big shock of white hair that marred his silky, raven hair.

  Sophia remembered how shaken she had been when that lock had started to grow after the car crash. The accident also left a thin scar on the left side of his forehead, starting at the side hairline and slashing down to his eyebrow, giving his too handsome face the appearance of a pirate.

  When younger and single, he had his fair share of women. They used to fall at his feet. As a widower now, they still did, but he wasn’t as interested anymore.