Shades of Trust

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

London, Heathrow Airport

Thursday, October 15, 2009

7:00 a.m.

“I’m so sorry, madam. Your flight to Switzerland has been cancelled. There is a red flag for a snowstorm that will hit London full force in a few hours.”

“Then transfer me to an earlier flight. For God’s sake, we’re at Heathrow!”

“You don’t seem to understand. All earlier flights are full. I can reimburse you or re-emit your ticket for another day.”

“Listen, I have to go to Geneva or somewhere near it, today,” Sophia said. “It’s urgent.”

“I’m sorry, there is nothing I can do.” The attendant turned to answer another passenger’s complaint.

Ethan halted mid-stride and scanned the beautiful woman standing at the airline counter. A wicked smile formed on his lips. Elbowing his friend and lawyer, Leonard, he whispered, “My lucky day, Allenthorp.”

“What?” Leonard stopped.

“I’m going to offer a ride to that damsel in distress.” Ethan discreetly pointed with his thumb at the young five-foot-six woman on his right. “See the sexy one over there, with long black hair?”

“Oh, come on, Ashford. We’re heading to one of your most important meetings and all you can think about is screwing a woman?” Leonard scowled.

“Allenthorp, I have to give you some lessons on mixing business and pleasure.” He stalked up to the woman.

“Excuse me. I couldn’t help listening to your conversation with the attendant. I’m heading to Geneva. If you want a ride, I can help you solve your problem.”

Sophia half turned at the sound of the voice and was rewarded with the view of a large chest and broad shoulders immaculately dressed in a tailored dark blue suit, crisp white shirt, and blood-red tie.

She craned her neck to look at the man’s face, from where mesmerizing eyes of startling Mediterranean-sea blue were staring at her. A white, perfect smile slashed his tanned, bearded features. His light brown sun-kissed hair was neatly cut and combed back.

Such azure eyes. “Pardon?” she said.

“I apologize. I am Ethan, Ethan Ashford. Nice to meet you, Miss…” A wolfish smile curled his lips.

Oh, damn. Ashford Steel Industries. “Mrs. Santo. Mrs. Sophia Santo,” she answered, eyeing Ethan with clear distrust.

“So, Sophia.” Her name left his lips as a caress. “Care to accept my offer?”

“A ride?” The offer astonished her. Why? What do you want? She stepped backward and bumped into someone. She heard a loud bang as two hands grasped her arms, steadying her.

She spun on her heels and saw another man, a little older, shorter, and leaner than the first but no less interesting. He had an easy smile, kind blue eyes, and dark blond hair, graying at the temples. Leonard Allenthorp, ‘The Lawyer Duke’. A chill ran through Sophia’s spine as she leaned against the counter flanked by the two men in front of her. “I’m sorry.” Has Alberto discovered me?

Leonard bent down and picked up his briefcase. He stretched out his hand in a friendly way, saying, “It’s okay. Leonard Allenthorp. How do you do? What my friend said is that we’re heading to Geneva in ten minutes, in a private jet, and if you’re interested, we’ve got space for you. A free ride.”

Sophia took a deep breath, gathering courage. As she was well aware, everything in life had a price but she needed to get to Geneva today. She shook the outstretched hand, smiling a little, trying to relax. “Thanks. I accept.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Ethan’s baritone voice purred from behind her,

“Shall we go?” Leonard made a small gesture with his hand. “We don’t want to meet the snowstorm in midair.”

She put her Chanel bag on her shoulder and caught the handle of her carry-on.

“Do you want help with your luggage?” Ethan offered.

“No, but thank you.” She watched Ethan surreptitiously as she walked between the men. He had the inborn firmness of those who know how to achieve things in life. His clothes were perfectly tailored to show off his strong body; it was clear he was a man who demanded perfection, even from himself.

On her other side, Leonard kept pace. Almost as tall as Ethan, Sophia knew he was about to turn thirty-five. She’d just read an article about him in the Sunday Magazine. His clothes were also expensive; however, he wore them in an effortless way.

“I have to thank you for the ride.” Sophia smiled at Ethan. “I should have imagined that something like this could happen. We’re having such terrible and unstable weather this year.”

“Yes, we are,” he agreed. “Have you kept abreast of the floods in northern England?”

Sophia nodded.

“Awful, isn’t it?” Leonard said quietly. “My brother-in-law had serious problems on his property.”

At passport control, Ethan quirked an eyebrow at Sophia when she didn’t follow them. She just smiled back. He shrugged and followed Leonard.

The police officer did his work quickly and handed the passport back to her with a big smile, saying with a heavy British accent, “Bom dia.”

Sophia grinned back, saying, “Obrigada.”

Ethan eyed her document with interest when she tucked it back in her bag and motioned, “This way, Sophia.”

They went through an empty corridor. Downstairs and outside the building was a new silver-and-black Gulfstream G650. Next to the carpet on the tarmac by the stairs, the captain waited to welcome them.

At the top of the stairs, a flight attendant smiled and greeted them. She picked-up the overcoats, Sophia’s carry-on and put them away.

Sophia walked past single seats that faced each other, noticing how every detail had been chosen with care. Halfway down the aisle, there was a four-place mahogany conference table with double seats on each side. She sat on the one next to the window, putting her bag on the aisle seat.

Leonard leveled a look at her and smiled as he noticed the maneuver, seating himself opposite her.

The seats were handcrafted with black leather mixed with white-and-gray hues. It was very masculine and subtly stylish. The inside of the airplane resembled its owner.

“Mr. Ashford, may I fix you your drinks?”

“What are you drinking, Sophia?” Ethan politely asked.

“Water. Sparkling, thank you,” she said.

“The same for me, Ashford,” Leonard added.

“The usual for me, Vanessa.” He leaned on the table, two big hands flattened, to look at Sophia. “Want a tour before takeoff?”

“A tour?” She eyed him, amused, a playful smile on her lips, looking at the rear of the aircraft, where a three-seat black divan with silk pillows faced a mahogany credenza topped with a wide-screen plasma TV. “What for?”

“I can show you the cockpit, all the modern technologies at hand, as in a fully functional office, and the stateroom…” His eyes flashed as he nudged here in a husky voice. “…It’s quite comfortable, Sophia.”

Sophia laughed to hide her embarrassment. “No, thank you. I’m good here.”

He stared at her for a moment, but said nothing more, easing his six-foot-three stature back in the seat beside Leonard.

The flight attendant served the water and a tomato juice for Ethan, put some mixed nuts and canapés on the table between them, then vanished from the cabin.

The captain announced takeoff his voice smooth and elegant.

“Portuguese, aren’t you?” Ethan said.

She laughed, shaking her head.

“No?” He looked puzzled. “But your passport…your answer to the officer…”

“So?” She shrugged, and saw that Leonard was paying attention to the conversation. “Let’s see if you can guess where I’m from, one chance each.”

“Three each,” Ethan argued.

“Uh-uh. One.”

“Two,” countered Leonard.

“Hmm,” she mused. “The odds might turn against me.”

“What’s the prize?” Ethan asked hoarsely. “A dinner with the winner?”

“No winner. Let’s settle for lunch, us three. Deal?”

“Deal. Please, call me Ethan.”

“Let’s see…” Leonard said. “Not Portuguese. Although with a Portuguese passport. With clear Latin heritage. Based on your looks I’d say you’re…Italian. But it makes no sense…”

“Good. Very good. But, no! And you can’t take it back.” She turned to Ethan, waiting. “A hint. My passport has nothing to do with where I was born.”

“Not Portuguese, not Italian. Very black hair, light skin, hazel almond eyes.” He narrowed his eyes and grinned at her, “Curvaceous, sexy. Hmm…I dare say Spanish.”

“Why, thank you.” She smiled amused. “But far from it, Mr. Ashford.”

“It’s Ethan. Drop the Mr. Ashford. Please.”

“Told you that you wouldn’t guess.” She smiled. “One more chance each. Think carefully before you answer.” Sophia. You don’t want them to discover where you’re from. Stop this childish nonsense.

Leonard stared at her, assessing her face. “Not Portuguese, Italian, or Spanish. I’d bet that you’re not from the Nordic countries and not American, for sure.” He paused. Observed her again and whispered to himself, “No, it can’t be. Skin is too light. Speaks perfect British English, without an accent.”

“Greek,” Ethan guessed as he shook his head.

Sophia smiled. “I’m flattered. Greek women are known for their beauty. But again, no.” Her mouth twisted at the corners. “Mr. Allenthorp, you still have one more chance.”

“Please, just Leonard.” He waved his hand distractedly, his eyebrows furrowed, immersed in thought.

“Come on, Allenthorp,” Ethan coached.

His blond eyebrows drew even closer. He wasn’t really sure, but he went for it any way. “Brazilian. Rio de Janeiro or São Paulo.”

Did…did he recognize me? She stared at him. “Why, yes. Exactly. Rio. How did you guess?”

“My dear, in my profession we have to be very attentive to detail. You hinted I made a point when I alleged Italian. You have a Portuguese passport. I started putting the pieces together. Where are there lots of Portuguese and Italian descendants? South America. Brazil. You do look like a Carioca that has been out of the sun for a long time. Except you dress like a Paulista.”

“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 gazed 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 studied her for a few seconds then returning 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.

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, shuffled his documents together, putting them away and closing the table with the touch of a button.

Leonard rearranged himself in his 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 looked 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,” Leonard interjected. “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.

“Have you been married or have children?” she asked him.

“I don’t need to. I know what life and people are made of.”

“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,” Ethan retorted.

She examined her manicured long dark blood-red nails and smiled. 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?”

“At a hotel.” She licked her lips nervously.

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

“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.” Ethan released a low chuckle.

“I understood you.”

“I bet. But I hate when I mix languages.”

“It happens,” Ethan set aside her fault.

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

“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, Leonard 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?” Leonard asked.

“I work with Professor Holbrook.”

“From Holbrook and Barton?” Leonard asked.

“Ah… Yes.” Sophia looked nervous as she answered.

“Where did Holbrook find you?” Leonard wondered. “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.

“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?” Ethan 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.

Sophia 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?” Ethan asked. “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 up 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.”

“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 extricated her wrist from his grip.

“You’re a bold woman, aren’t you?” He stared hard at her.

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.” Sophia 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, taking her sweet scent wafting 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,” Ethan muttered, slowly shaking his head, trying to dispel the fog of desire clouding his brain.

“Yes?” Leonard answered, 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.