The Andreou Marriage Arrangement

by Helen Bianchin

  With easy economical movements he shed his jeans, tee shirt, snapped off the bed-lamp and slid into bed beside her.

  With extreme care he enfolded her slender body close in against him, felt her stir, and he soothed a hand over her hair…again and again, until a soft sigh emerged from her throat and she relaxed against him in sleep, her cheek resting into the curve of his shoulder.

  He could offer her safety, and hold her through the night. Be there for her, and help soothe her fears.

  Of the many social functions Alesha had attended in the past, tonight’s fundraiser took precedence, and was one in which she maintained a personal interest.

  Children who’d suffered abuse at the hands of those who professed to love them. Adults, whose trust they deserved, yet failed to receive. The varying shades of grey to the deepest black, covering circumstances too grim for the average person to comprehend.

  Tonight a few children’s plight would be highlighted in order to touch the guests’ hearts and persuade them to give generously.

  Alesha chose a black bandage-design gown that hugged her slender curves and showcased delicate-textured skin. She confined jewellery to a slender gold necklace with matching ear-studs and bracelet, and black killer heels completed the outfit.

  Minimum make-up, with emphasis on her eyes, she opted to leave her hair loose in a soft feminine style.

  The event drew a pleasing number of guests, and she stood at Loukas’ side sipping champagne, acutely aware of his close proximity.

  He portrayed the man he was…sophisticated, urbane, highly intelligent, successful. And he wore the verbal labels with ease, comfortable in his own skin with little, if anything, to prove.

  And he was hers.

  Well, not in the truest sense…yet. She bore his name, wore his ring, and she…liked him.

  Admit it, you find him stunningly attractive. Sexy…incredibly sexy, she amended. And there was a part of her that craved the intimacy she instinctively rejected.

  So why did she feel as if she were treading eggshells, aware she consciously watched everything she said, every action, in case it was misconstrued.

  At work, home, and on social occasions such as this when she played the part of recently married happy wife.

  A young woman who, by all accounts, should be ecstatic to be bedding one of the most eligible men on planet earth.

  ‘Penny for them?’

  She tilted her head and gifted him a teasing smile. ‘Not for sharing, at any price.’

  Loukas’ mouth curved a little, and the hand resting at the base of her spine brushed a light trail up her back to linger at the lower edge of her nape.

  Sensation spiralled through her body, and it took conscious effort to hold his dark gaze.

  Dear heaven, she was almost flirting with him…for real. Not the best idea, given the tenuous quality of their relationship.

  Yet it was fun, almost safe. Although was it? If you played with fire, you tended to get burnt.

  So chill, and don’t risk conflagration.

  Their table was well placed, the company stimulating, and the food delectable.

  The speeches held a poignancy that speared her heart, and her eyes clouded…for she could envisage so much more than the mere words conveyed. At one point her fingers tightened into a fist, and her lacquered nails dug into her palm. No one should be a victim of abuse…dear heaven, especially never a child.

  Almost as if he sensed her torment, Loukas placed his hand over hers until she released her grip. His silent presence and strength comforted her and she gave him a tentative smile and returned his hold on her hand, suddenly glad he was there with her this evening.

  The entertainment for the night comprised a designer fashion showing, with elegant models parading the catwalk, followed by an auction of the garments with a generous percentage gifted to the charity.

  It lightened the evening, with the auctioneer really getting into the swing of it, encouraging bidders to raise the stakes.

  One gown caught Alesha’s interest, a deep red silk with spaghetti straps attached to a beautiful ruched bodice and a soft floor-length tiered skirt.

  Loukas indicated his bid, and escalated it by increments until it reached an exorbitant amount and the one remaining bidder pulled out.

  Alesha leaned towards him and said in a subdued but scandalized voice, ‘Are you crazy?’

  ‘It’s a worthy cause.’ His voice held a teasing indolence as he brushed his lips to her temple. ‘And the gown is perfect for you.’

  Oh, my. For an instant the room and everyone in it faded into nothing as his eyes locked with her own, and something violently sweet coursed through her body.

  His mouth curved into an easy smile, almost as if he knew.

  ‘Thanks.’ On impulse she pressed her lips to his cheek…at least that was her intention, except he moved and her mouth met his own, and a light kiss became something else as he savoured her briefly before lifting his head.

  Colour filled her cheeks, and he trailed light fingers over the soft heat, then skimmed over one shoulder to rest at the edge of her waist.

  ‘Dear Alesha,’ a light feminine voice intruded. ‘So nice to see you happy in your new marriage.’

  Recovery was swift as she summoned a smile and turned towards the woman who’d stopped by to offer congratulations, only to have her heart sink.

  Nicolette de Silva had a reputation for lacking tact. Even the kindest amongst her coterie of friends admitted Nicolette didn’t think before she opened her mouth.

  ‘Her brief liaison with that terrible man was a disaster,’ Nicolette confided to Loukas. ‘But then, of course, you know about that?’

  ‘Naturally.’ His voice was smooth as silk. Sufficiently so that most people would immediately cease pursuing the subject and move on.

  ‘There were rumours, some of them extreme.’ Nicolette offered a conciliatory smile. ‘I believe Seth Armitage tried to sell his side of the story to the media, but nothing came of it, isn’t that right, Alesha?’

  Alesha’s fingers clenched beneath the cover of the tablecloth, and she tensed as Loukas again took her hand in his and traced soothing fingers across the pulsing veins at her wrist.

  Support? Whatever, it felt…pleasant, comforting.

  A double whammy, she admitted silently as the action increased her pulse-beat and made her increasingly aware of him.

  She tried to tell herself she was immune to gossip. Three years on she’d heard it all…first and second-hand. The inquisitive comments she chose not to concede or deny. The false expressions of sympathy. Each a quest for information she refused to give.

  ‘There’s no point in rehashing old history,’ she managed quietly. ‘Don’t you agree?’

  Nicolette looked momentarily distraught. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  The weird thing was she meant it.

  ‘Apology accepted.’

  ‘Please do enjoy the rest of the evening.’

  ‘We shall.’

  ‘Red will look stunning on you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Inherent poise enabled her to conduct a perfectly sincere conversation with one of the women sharing the table. ‘It’s a gorgeous gown.’

  ‘Everyone bid. The fundraiser has proven to be an enormous success.’

  ‘Yes, it has.’

  ‘My condolences for the sad loss of your father. He was a wonderful man.’

  It was easy to agree, and Alesha turned to offer Loukas a slow sweet smile. ‘Coffee, darling? The waiters are circling the tables as we speak.’

  She was something else, Loukas perceived. Brave when it mattered, yet so hauntingly vulnerable on occasion.

  Was he the only one who glimpsed what lay beneath the protective façade she’d created?

  It was almost midnight when the evening came to an end, and guests began making their way into the foyer. Air-kisses were exchanged, invitations issued and the need for diary dates to be checked and acceptances confirmed.


  The concierge ordered cars to be fetched with military precision, and Alesha experienced a sense of relief as the Aston Martin appeared at the hotel entrance.

  Home…not exactly home, but the place she shared with Loukas seemed almost welcome. Even better was the prospect of shedding her clothes and slipping into bed to sleep.

  If she could just erase the vivid images portrayed on screen during the evening. If she had been alone in her apartment, she would have watched a DVD and lost herself in a light comedy until sheer tiredness forced her into bed.

  Except she was no longer alone.

  There was a part of her that wanted to become lost in the seductive touch of a man. To be held close and feel the trail of his lips as he explored her body. Experience the joy of intimacy without the fear of cruelty.

  Not just any man…Loukas.

  If she’d wanted an affair to expunge unwanted memories, she would have sought one by now.

  Dammit, what was she waiting for?

  Love?

  Oh, please. The emotion only existed for such a brief period of time in the real world…didn’t it?

  The kind that changed lives and lasted a lifetime, one man for one woman, twin souls meant only for each other…that was a beautiful fantasy with little basis in reality.

  Since when had she become so cynical?

  A hollow laugh rose and died in her throat, for she could pinpoint the date, the time almost to the minute.

  The car turned off the New South Head Road into Point Piper, and reached the magnificent set of gates guarding the entrance to Loukas’ mansion.

  A modem released the gates and simultaneously lit the curved driveway as he eased the Aston Martin towards the garage.

  A sense of restlessness invaded her body as she ascended the stairs…a feeling she attempted to dismiss without much success on entering the master suite.

  She became extremely conscious of Loukas’ presence as he shed his jacket, then loosened his bow tie.

  Smooth easy movements that were uncontrived as he moved to free the buttons on his dress shirt…and she focused on discarding her evening shoes, her jewellery.

  All the time she was acutely aware of him…the faint thud as he removed his shoes; the almost undetectable slide of a zip fastening and the soft slither of material as he freed trousers.

  The image of his tall, near-naked frame was hauntingly vivid. Hell, she had no problem visualizing the impressive breadth of his shoulders, the superb musculature tapering to a sculptured waist and lean hips.

  Would there ever be a time when she could feel sufficiently confident to seduce him? Boldly explore and tease until he groaned beneath her touch?

  To have him reach for her in the night and gift him the freedom of her body…to exult in untold pleasure?

  She drew in a ragged breath, then released it slowly. Oh, for heaven’s sake…stop.

  Get rid of the dress, gather up your sleepwear, escape to your en suite, remove make-up, brush teeth, fix hair into a ponytail…then go to bed.

  She did all that and re-entered the bedroom to find Loukas stretched comfortably beneath the covers, arms crossed pillowing his head.

  ‘Goodnight.’ Her voice sounded slightly strangled even to her own ears as she slid between the sheets and he doused the lights.

  ‘Sleep well.’

  As if that were going to happen any time soon.

  Perhaps if she lay perfectly still and conjured only pleasant thoughts…

  Except nothing helped, and her thoughts assumed a kaleidoscopic mix that subdued the colours and brought Seth’s image into stark black and white focus.

  Go away. A silent entreaty, harsh only in her mind, had no effect whatsoever.

  There was a need to remain awake, for at least then she retained a measure of control. If she slid into sleep all control would be lost and his image would emerge to haunt her as it had too frequently in the past.

  She needed to win…she had to.

  Yet slipping from her bed and joining Loukas in his took more courage than she possessed, for what if he mistook her for a former flame…or, worse, he rejected her?

  So much for that plan.

  Afterwards Alesha had no memory of when her subconscious led unerringly into the familiar nightmare. She only knew she was fighting to escape…crying out as she shielded her face from the stinging slaps, the harsh bite of cruel hands pinning her down, the sound of her name on his lips.

  Then she came sharply awake to a room flooded with light…a room different from the one she’d occupied in her mind, and the man leaning close to her wasn’t Seth.

  It took one brief horrifying moment to shake free of the starkly intrusive images, and she was barely conscious of the concern evident in the dark eyes of the man watching the range of fleeting emotions chase her expressive features before she gained the control to mask them.

  Loukas lifted a hand, saw her eyes flare with sudden fear, and swallowed the curse that rose to his lips as he smoothed a wayward lock of hair behind her ear, then let his hand trail along her jaw to cup her chin and press a thumb to her quivering mouth.

  There seemed no past, only the present, and words fell from her lips without conscious thought. ‘Please…’

  She looked stricken as the realization of what she said sank in, and she lifted her hands in a defensive gesture as he dispensed with them and drew her close.

  His skin was warm against her cheek, and she felt a hand cradle her head as the other slid low over the back of her waist.

  It felt good…he felt good, and she breathed in the scent of him, the faint traces of soap, cologne and the muskiness of man.

  His hand brushed a path over her spine, rested briefly at her nape, then slid slowly down in a slow soothing pattern that did much to settle her ragged breathing.

  She didn’t want to move, and she instinctively lifted her arms to link her hands together at the back of his neck.

  He grazed his lips over her cheek, nuzzled her ear, then eased his mouth down to savour the curve at the base of her neck…and sensed the breath hitch in her throat.

  A hand shifted to her waist and gently slipped beneath the sleep top to skim the warm skin as he traced a path to her breast, cupped it, then brushed the tender peak until it swelled to his touch.

  With care, he deepened the kiss, tasting, exploring the inner texture, the sensitive tissues as he encouraged her response. Her body jerked as he took her lower lip into his mouth and bit down gently, and she moved restlessly in his arms, seeking more, wanting so much more.

  With care he eased the cotton top high, and when she didn’t resist he removed it completely.

  ‘Beautiful,’ Loukas said gently as he shaped each breast, then soothed their softness before lowering his head to caress one tender peak as it hardened into a swollen bead that begged to be suckled.

  Her body arched against his own, and she cried out as he took the peak into his mouth and used the edge of his teeth to heighten her pleasure.

  There was satisfaction as her hands began their own discovery, shaping his shoulders, sliding slowly down the bunched muscles to his forearms, before moving to his ribs, where, once there, she trailed light fingers over his chest, toyed with the tight buds, then slipped to frame his waist.

  His breath caught as she leaned in and placed her lips over one tight bud…and drew it between her teeth, only to release it and trail a path to his navel, explored a little, and sighed when he pulled her down onto the bed and took her mouth with his own.

  Frankly sensual, he plundered at will, hungry, almost demanding as she matched him in a primitive oral dance where she became lost…totally lost in the magic he evoked.

  There was no sense of time or place…only the man, and she whimpered in protest as he began easing back, softening his touch until his mouth drifted gently over her own, then he lifted his head and regarded her carefully.

  Alesha had no coherent thought as her emotions went into meltdown.

  Dear God, what had just happe
ned here?

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his, almost as if she were held captive by the smouldering heat…the intense passion, unrestrained and primitive in that instant. And the control, leashed, but easily broken by a careless word or gesture on her part.

  ‘Your call.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HE COULD come so close, yet stop if she asked him to?

  How could he do that? Ohmigod…how could she?

  ‘Please.’ The word whispered from Alesha’s lips, a fragile sound barely lucid in the stillness of the night.

  His eyes were dark…so dark, she became lost in their depths as he brushed a thumb-pad gently over her lower lip.

  ‘Do you know what you’re asking?’

  She did, on some subliminal level. Yet she couldn’t stop, for it was as if she were being driven by an inner force that left her powerless.

  ‘Yes.’ As proof she sought his mouth with her own, and held on as he took possession in a kiss that made her forget everything except his touch, the hunger…and the innate knowledge she didn’t want him to stop.

  With care he eased off her sleep trousers, taking his time as he trailed gentle fingers over the surface of her skin, then he cupped one ankle and lowered his head down to brush his lips over the delicate arch.

  Slow, he wanted slow and easy, building the tension, stoking the passion until he filled her sensual world.

  It became a voyage of discovery, learning what caused her breath to hitch, the pleasurable sigh as he explored her breasts, savoured the sensitive curve at the edge of her neck…the way her body arched when he palmed the highly sensitive place between her thighs.

  He felt the faint sting of her nails as her fingers bit into his shoulders, and he reciprocated with a teasing bite to the soft underside of one breast.

  Naked, he saw her eyes widen as her hand brushed his arousal, and he glimpsed her brief panic, then it was gone as he took possession of her mouth in an erotic kiss that brought a purr of pleasure.

  It was then he trailed his mouth in a slow caress down her throat, felt the slight vibration as he lingered there before he began grazing a sensual tasting towards her navel, circled his tongue round the diamond pin, then traced an evocative path to the intimate folds guarding her sensitive clitoris.