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again, Alistair. John Walter is my doctor. If you need any information concerning me or my body, you first have to ask me if they are available to you.” She slightly narrowed her eyes at him, “I’m not giving you this power. You are already an overbearing-”
    The fingers that held her chin plunged into her hair, the other hand, still holding her glasses, snaked around her waist, dragging her flush to his body and he kissed her stormily in the middle of Earl’s Court Road.
    He raised his head, panting, “You drive me crazy when you defy me.”
    “If this kiss, in the middle of Kensington, is what I can expect for my defiance,” she licked her reddened lips, “then, I think I will defy you again and again.”
    “I don’t know if that’s very bad, or very good,” Alistair shook his head, with a smile on his lips.
    Her fingers were drawn inexorably to his gorgeous silky hair and she teased, “My lord Marquis, you are so feudalist, demanding full obeisance of your wishes...”
    “And you are an anachronism, my lady. You love medieval theologians and philosophers, but also you have totally contemporary and inappropriate teenage behavior. I can’t place you.”
    “Teenage? Really?” she smiled, amused. “Mmm. You are not the first to think I behave like a teenager around you. Maybe I give you this impression because when I’m around you, you make me want to do things to provoke you.”
    “Provoke me?” He didn’t mind at all that they were in the middle of the busy sidewalk, at lunch hour, and he tugged her hair, making her move her head back to escape the pain.
    Her lips stretched and curled open in a devious smile, “I love seeing you out of your depth when I do things you don’t expect. It’s almost... comical. It makes me giddy,” and she finished in a whisper, “and horny.”
    Comical?
The grip on her hair loosened as Alistair’s jaw dropped open. He was speechless. Not one coherent thought came to his mind to answer her provocation.
    “Yeah, teenage perhaps,” she continued and shrugged, “but then, I’m entitled to be a little irresponsible. You’ll just have to come to terms with me,” she paid no heed to his stern regard, “and my behavior. Now, if you want my company for a quick lunch, move! I have to work and Gabriela demands my presence at home by five. Ah,” she rose on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips, “by the way, thanks for the doll. She loved it.”
    Alistair’s face split in a huge grin at the mention of Gabriela. “She already called me. What time am I supposed to be at your house tonight?”
    “Six, if you want to play with Corolle,” she smirked at him. “Gabriela dines at six-thirty and goes to bed at seven-thirty.” She tugged him by the hand and he pulled her in the other direction. She paused and looked at him.
    “This way. I’m going to take you to a new restaurant: Kitchen W8. Have you been there?”
    “Not yet. I thought we could get some Chinese food.”
    “I’ve already made reservations.”
    More orders, Alistair Connor?
“Oh. You did.” The sarcasm was not lost on him.
    You really don’t take orders well, do you, Sophia?
“The food is delicious. Traditional English food, but with a modern twist. You’ll like it.”
    “Very well,” she complied.
    They walked a few minutes, hand in hand, in companionable silence.
    Sophia glanced at Alistair’s thoughtful face, “A penny for your thoughts.”
    He looked down at her for a moment and then asked, “You don’t go out much, do you?”
    “Not really. I don’t have many friends here and I don’t see the fun in going to the theatre or eating alone in a restaurant. I prefer staying in with Gabriela. Besides, I’m very exacting when it comes to food, in general. From its freshness to the final dish presented to me. I guess it comes from having been a Cordon Bleu student.”
    “Hmm, I guess.” He put his arm around her back, dragging her close to him as they walked toward the