Cristiane Serruya - Trust - Betrayed

“I can guarantee her honor would not be touched, if this is your fear. In the end, the fault would be MacCraig’s or Miller’s.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Did I ever disappoint you?” Ghost smiled as he heard Scott’s sigh and his negative. “Great. Hear me out.”

Scott sat more comfortably on his chair, praying he was doing the right thing and said, “I’m all ears.”

Airgead Caisteal.

Friday, August 6 th, 2010.

7.02 p.m.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she will be mine. Mine and no one else’s. No Davidoff, Ashford, Westwood, not even Leibowitz. She will be a MacCraig. He breathed in the fresh air and looked around.

The amorphous chaos by the loch had taken the shape of a tall pavilion that ended in an incredible chapel which looked like it was made of crystal. The Santo family had a creative vein he never could have imagined from Sophia’s line of work. Everything they created was different, classy and dashing. From the stationary to the dresses. He was sure the guests would be surprised tomorrow.

Alistair shook his head amused as he sat in one of the acrylic chairs and watched Jeff Leatham, with a white rose between his teeth, dance and laugh with Valentina and Victoria.

He turned his head as he heard Sophia’s musical laughter. She was still wearing the riding gear she had ordered for the tournament that his father had held at Craigdale Castle in their honor. Her daring redingote was made in the MacCraig’s tartan colors: thin red and yellows lines crossed with the brightest green and midnight blue. She was happily showing the world she was to be his.

Still, he was unsure. Still, he couldn’t believe it.

Tavish and Sophia, arm in arm, walked down the stairs and made their way onto the catwalk covered with Persian rugs over a wide white carpet, which started at the last step and ended at the entrance of the chapel.

Jealousy elbowed its way into Alistair’s heart and he squinted at the handsome couple his brother and his fiancée made. Tavish had been around Sophia more and more since her stabbing. He would fit her better; he doesn’t have my past; he could give her children. Perhaps, it’s another MacCraig she wants. And perhaps... another MacCraig wants her too.

He looked away, reasoning with himself. Stop this, Alistair Connor. You should be grateful that Sophia is adored by your family and that she’s not another Heather.

A soft hand on his shoulder made him raise his head, lines still creasing his forehead. He could see the joy shining inside those hazel eyes he loved so much and he prayed the joy was because of him.

“I was looking for you,” she said, straddling the chair in front of him.

“Here I am,” he smiled at her, scooting to the edge of his chair to kiss her. From the corner of his eyes, he saw that Tavish had walked to where the twins were.

“I have a proposal,” she said after he broke the kiss. “We- I-” Dammit! “I want us to sleep separately tonight.”

What? He looked at her speechless. Why?

“It- It may sound strange but- It’s just that- Oh! Dammit! I want to surprise you tomorrow. I want you-”

“No.”

“No?” she looked at him quizzically. “Why not?”

Because I’m unsure and I want you near me. I need you. “Nobody has ever told you no?” He raised an eyebrow and his poker face mask descended over him.

Oh, yeah. You, included. “But it’s such an innocent request. It won’t hurt-”

He stood up and held out his hand for her, “Come. Let’s take a walk.”

She watched his face as they walked away from the hubbub in silence and entered the maze by the sequoia alley. Sophia could hear the delightful squeals of Gabriela, Ariadne and the other children who had come with their parents to her wedding as they sat on the bench. “Gabriela is loving all this activity.”

“Aye,” he answered curtly.

Sophia looked at him. There it is again. That unnerving unreadable mask. She rolled her eyes heavenward. Sophia, don’t you think it’s time to stop this? She stood up and moved in front of him. That’s enough. She bent down, put her hands on his knees and, looking deep into his green eyes, scolded, “Stop. Stop that right now. We are getting married tomorrow for better and for worse. Wipe that mask off your face and tell me what you are feeling.” She stood up straight and put her hands on her hips, tapping her foot on the ground, “Right now, Alistair Connor.”

He didn’t know if he should laugh or scowl back at her. On impulse, he snaked his arms around her waist and brought her flush against him, burrowing his nose in her breasts. White roses, orange blossoms and vanilla. This is my apple a day.

“Hey,” she whispered, dipping her fingers in his long hair, combing it. “What is it?”

Alistair raised his head to look at her and, for a shimmering moment, Sophia thought she saw fear in those forest green eyes.

She caressed his cheekbones with her thumbs and traced his lips. “Talk to me.”

Do you love me? Will I be able to make you happy? But his fears seemed too ridiculous to be voiced and he just shook his head, incapable of understanding himself.

“I love you, you know? I know I don’t say it much. It’s so overwhelming that I don’t want to trivialize what I’m feeling. Sometimes, silence says more than words.”

But he kept his eyelids lowered, his long black lashes shadowing his cheekbones.

“Alistair Connor. Look at me,” she perched sideways on his thigh when he raised his head again. “You can trust me with your feelings.”

He sighed deeply and his lips curled in a self-deprecating grimace. “Jittery bridal nerves.”

Oh. Cute. She smiled, endeared, “Really?”

“Aye,” he nodded. “Don’t ask me to sleep away from you. Not tonight. I need you.”

She gazed at his eyes, which could communicate so many emotions when he let them, and agreed, “It will be as you wish, Alistair Connor.”

“I love you, Sophia. Forever will be not enough to show you how much I love you,” he whispered before kissing her with fervent passion. He realized that his stomach was tied in knots.

She shifted looking for a more comfortable position and he made her straddle him without breaking the kiss.

“I knew you were her prince charming,” Gabriela’s voice reached them through a thick fog of lust.

They sprang apart.

Alistair’s hands on her waist stopped her from falling on her butt and he guided her onto the bench beside him.

Sophia looked at him, asking for help. However, he seemed on the verge of laughing.

Gabriela threw herself on her mother’s legs. “It’s sooo romantic, Mama.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Kids are too advanced for their ages nowadays. Alistair thinned his lips to impede his bubbling amazement.

Oh, God! Struggling with her own laughter, Sophia picked Gabriela up in her arms, setting her on her lap. “Do you think so, angel?”

“Oh, yes, I do.” The little girl united her hands and entwined her fingers, her blue eyes looking dreamingly at her mother. “Soooo romantic.” Gabriela beamed at Alistair. “Just like in Beauty and the Beast. I knew you were her Prince Charming!”

Oh, no. Not that Beast again. Alistair crossed his arms over his chest and growled at the child, “I am. Not. The beast.”

“Yes,” she bobbed her head, the blonde pigtails bouncing around her face, “you are.” She start counting on her little fingers. “You are big. You are handsome. You have long hair. You know how to dance. You have a beautiful and old castle.” Gabriela looked at him from under her lashes, twinkles in her eyes, “You shout sometimes, but I’m not afraid of you because I know you are gentle too.”