The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  How long did it take for her to decide the chairs were a no-go sleeping situation? Half an hour? She had no idea of the passage of time when she carefully manoeuvred herself free and spread one half of the blanket on the carpet.

  She leaned forward to collect the pillow and knocked her elbow. A faint groan escaped her lips. Hell, that hurt.

  Was Nicos asleep? She stifled the temptation to take the pillow and bat him over the head with it.

  She should have insisted on two separate suites. Dammit, why hadn’t she?

  At that precise moment the bedroom lamp went on, and in the next instant Nicos stood towering in the archway that separated the small lounge and bedroom.

  Without a word he moved forward and scooped her into his arms.

  ‘Put me down!’ Katrina vented in fury.

  He did. On the side of the bed he occupied. ‘Stay there,’ he warned in a voice that sent shivers scudding down the length of her spine.

  She bounced back onto her feet and watched as he crossed round to the opposite side of the bed. ‘The hell I will!’

  He threw her a dark lethal glance. ‘If you want to fight, I’ll oblige.’ He waited a beat. ‘Just be aware how it will end.’

  ‘I’m shaking!’

  ‘You will, if you don’t get back into bed.’

  She didn’t move, and her eyes burned emerald-bright with rage. ‘Since when did you become such a dictatorial tyrant?’

  ‘Ten seconds, Katrina,’ Nicos warned silkily.

  Her eyes went to the telephone on the bedside pedestal. ‘Reception can find me another suite.’ She picked up the receiver, but she didn’t even manage to punch one digit before Nicos cut the connection.

  ‘Don’t even think about it.’

  She rounded on him in fury. ‘How dare you?’

  ‘Easily.’

  Without thought she snatched up a pillow and threw it at him, only to watch as he deflected it onto the bed.

  His anger was a palpable entity. The bedside lamp cast shadows in the room, and his frame seemed to loom large, his features all angles and planes.

  ‘Three nights ago we shared a bed half this size.’

  ‘That was different.’

  He moved with the grace of a cat, his speed indolently deceptive as he skirted the bed.

  Katrina took one look and scrambled across the mattress to the other side. She couldn’t win, there was nowhere to go, and she fought like a wild thing as he caught hold of her, stilling her flailing arms with galling ease.

  In a moment of madness she bit him, hard, connecting just above one male nipple, and registered his intake of breath an instant before she was pushed down onto the mattress.

  She bucked, trying vainly to free herself, and gave a startled cry as he straddled her hips and pinned her wrists above her head.

  ‘Get off me!’

  He held her securely, his knees trapping her thighs, yet still she arched against him, twisting her body as she attempted to wrench her arms free.

  ‘Stop it. You’ll hurt yourself.’

  ‘Dammit, let me go!’

  Her eyes were a brilliant green, dilated with a mixture of outrage and anger, her hair a mass of tumbled curls.

  She made one desperate last-ditch effort, only to concede defeat. Her chest heaved, and her breath escaped in short, furious gasps. If looks could kill, he’d be dead.

  He waited, watching as her breathing steadied, and his eyes were impossibly dark. There was a stillness apparent in those strong, masculine features, a leashed savagery that caused the breath to hitch in her throat.

  No. It was a silent scream that didn’t find voice.

  The room faded from the periphery of her vision. There was only the man, the latent, magnetic intensity evident.

  Primitive awareness eased the sudden knot in her stomach, and she battled the slow heat warming the blood in her veins.

  A faint whimper escaped her lips, part groan, part despair. What was happening to her? It seemed as if everything had coalesced and Nicos had become her total focus.

  Her body had a memory of its own, and she was powerless to stop the treacherous awakening as passion flared.

  Damn you, Nicos. The silent curse didn’t find voice. Don’t.

  Except it was way too late.

  Slowly he lowered his head, and his mouth brushed hers, the touch feather-light in an evocative, teasing gesture that wasn’t nearly enough.

  He felt the faint quiver of her body, sensed the heat, and he nibbled on her lower lip, then nipped the full centre, soothing it with the tip of his tongue before tracing the soft contours.

  The strength of his arousal was a potent force nestled against the most vulnerable part of her anatomy, and sensation throbbed, primitive, urgent, libidinous.

  She parted her mouth, wanting more, much more than this gentle seduction, and she moaned an entreaty as his lips savoured the line of her throat, then nuzzled the sensitive hollow at the edge of her neck.

  I should stop this, now, before it’s too late, she groaned silently.

  Except she was powerless to still the deep need, the mesmeric, erotic witchery of his seduction.

  When his mouth found hers again, she kissed him with possessive hunger, angling her head for closer purchase.

  Her whole body was on fire, and the breath hissed between her teeth as he freed her wrists and dispensed with her long cotton tee shirt.

  A swift tugging movement divested his briefs, and she cried out as he sought her breast, teasing a tender peak before suckling shamelessly.

  Her hands slid over his shoulders, caressed his spine, then she dug her fingers into his buttocks.

  Now. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he sought the moistness, his touch finding the acutely sensitised nub with unerring accuracy.

  She went up in flames, then cried out as he sent her higher, and she wasn’t conscious of pleading with him, or begging his possession.

  Nicos took her with one deep thrust, and heard her faint intake of breath as silken muscles stretched to accommodate him. He stilled, enjoying the enclosure, the tightness as she gripped and held him, then he began to move, slowly, almost withdrawing completely before surging in to the hilt.

  Again and again he repeated the action, increasing the movement until she met and matched his rhythm in a tumultuous ride that left them both slick with sensual sweat.

  Katrina waited for her breathing to steady, convinced she was unable to move so much as a muscle. Dear heaven. She closed her eyes, too enervated to do anything, and she groaned out loud as he gathered her close and rolled onto his back.

  His hands brushed over her skin in a soothing gesture, and she felt his lips at her temple, the soft hollow beneath her ear.

  It felt so good, like coming home after conquering the stormy sea.

  Slowly she lifted her body, arching it gracefully as she rose above him. She lifted a hand and tucked her hair behind one ear, then the other, then she touched the tip of her finger to his chest and traced a teasing pattern through the dark hair, pausing to tug a little before following the line arrowing down to his waist.

  She felt him harden, his length expanding as she brushed a teasing path back and forth at the juncture of their connection, only to have him replace her fingers with his own.

  Her pleasure was immediate, the wild surge of exquisite sensation almost more than she could bear, and this time it was she who rode him on the path to mutual ecstasy.

  Yet it was Nicos who held her at the brink, then tipped her over in a mutual, spellbinding free fall.

  Katrina fell asleep curled close in Nicos’s arms, her head pillowed against his chest.

  Throughout the night they reached for each other, satisfying needs that were alternately urgent, then slow and magically sweet.

  There was a part of her that never wanted the sensual dreams of the night to end. How many times had she imagined such a night, relived it again and again, only to wake alone with an emptiness that was all too real?

&nbs
p; But as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon she responded to the trail of fingers caressing the curve of her waist, exulted in their intimate touch, and melted into her lover’s body, fitting so well it was as if they were two halves of a whole.

  It was late when they rose from the bed and shared a shower. Even later when they sat down to room-service breakfast, lingering over coffee before dressing and checking out.

  The late morning flight landed in Sydney after midday, and Nicos collected his car, stowed their overnight bags in the boot, then dropped Katrina outside her office building before traversing inner-city traffic to his own.

  She should have been tired, but instead she felt energised, and she rode the lift to her office, checked with her secretary, ordered in lunch, and got to work.

  Nicos phoned at four to say he’d be delayed, and Katrina indicated she needed to bring work home.

  ‘Don’t wait dinner.’

  ‘You want to ring Marie, or shall I?’ Katrina queried, only to have him respond he’d already done so.

  It was after six when she entered the house, and she checked the refrigerator, saw the delicious salad Marie had left for her, then ran lightly upstairs to change and fill the spa bath.

  Her solo dinner could wait for half an hour while she relaxed in the pulsating water.

  Not such a good idea, she reflected, as the memory of Nicos’s lovemaking came vividly to mind. Even the thought of what they’d shared caused sensation to spiral through her body, and she groaned out loud as she recollected her hungry response.

  Nothing had changed, she determined, then closed her eyes in frustrated resignation. Who was she kidding? Everything had changed.

  It was almost seven when she donned jeans, a cotton top, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

  The salad was delicious, and after she’d eaten it she curled up in a chair in the sitting room and used the remote to switch on the television.

  She must have dozed, for she came awake at the touch of hands sliding beneath her thighs.

  ‘Nicos?’

  ‘Who were you expecting?’ he drawled musingly.

  ‘I can walk,’ Katrina declared. ‘Put me down.’

  He reached the stairs and began to ascend them. ‘You doubt my ability to carry you?’

  She weighed little more than a child, and he wasn’t even breathing heavily when he reached the landing.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, put me down!’

  He let her slide down to her feet, and she moved a few paces, then turned towards her room.

  ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

  The query was quietly spoken, yet beneath the softness there was a hint of steel, and Katrina looked at him in silent askance.

  ‘My room.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What do you mean—no?’

  ‘Last night—’

  ‘Was a mistake.’

  ‘The hell it was.’

  ‘We…’ she paused fractionally ‘…got carried away,’ she qualified. Words, they were only words. None of which even began to describe the extent of her emotional involvement or her reaction.

  Nicos’s eyes darkened. ‘Is that how you describe it? Carried away?’

  She met his gaze and held it. ‘What else would you call it?’

  ‘We share the same room, the same bed.’ He stilled her protest by pressing a finger to her lips. ‘It isn’t an option.’

  Her eyes sparked green fire. ‘Since when did you get to call the shots?’

  The palm of his hand slid to cup the edge of her jaw. ‘From the moment we made love last night.’

  She felt her insides begin to liquify. ‘We had sex.’

  ‘So we did, pedhi mou.’

  He sounded amused, and she fought against her body’s response. She didn’t want to succumb to his seduction, didn’t need to do battle for her own self-preservation. It had taken months to build up a resistance to him. Yet in one night he’d managed to tear it down as if that invisible wall had never existed.

  ‘I’m tired.’ Katrina offered the excuse in desperation. ‘All I want to do is slip into bed. My bed. Alone.’

  He smoothed the tip of his thumb over the soft fullness of her lower lip. ‘So you shall,’ he said gently, and let his hand fall to his side. ‘But it won’t be alone.’

  With that, he turned and walked towards his room without a backward glance.

  Dammit, couldn’t he see she needed time to assimilate what had happened between them? That she was at war with herself, and in a constant state of flux at having succumbed to the dictates of her flesh?

  In the light of day, all she could focus on was her own weakness. This man had betrayed her with another woman. Worse, that woman had borne his child.

  At the time she’d dealt with it. But now, the very structure she’d carefully built was falling down around her ears.

  She wanted to hate him, and told herself she did. But she hated herself more.

  Katrina reached her room and closed the door behind her. There was no lock, and unless she dragged heavy furniture to bar the door, there was nothing she could do to keep him out.

  She cast the double bed a pensive glance. She was darned if she’d just slip between the sheets and lie waiting for Nicos to join her.

  There was little doubt that he would.

  She could, however, make a silent statement. There were three other bedrooms upstairs. She’d occupy one of those in the hope it would add emphasis to her intention not to sleep with him.

  Katrina chose a bedroom, selected linen and made up the bed, then slid wearily between the covers.

  She should have been asleep within seconds of her head touching the pillow. Instead she lay staring into the darkness for what seemed an age, her limbs and mind as tense as a tightly stretched wire.

  She told herself she didn’t, couldn’t, want him. Yet her body was a mass of contradictions as memory persisted in providing a vivid replay of what they’d shared the previous night.

  It would be so easy to adopt a rational mindset where she simply enjoyed the intimacy of sex. Why not? a silent voice demanded. Just enjoy the intense pleasure of physical contact throughout the year she was forced to stay with Nicos, then walk away. Heart whole, with no regrets.

  Impossible. She’d gifted him her heart, her soul, almost from the first moment they’d met. For months she’d thought she’d reclaimed them, but last night had proved beyond doubt they were his. Always would be.

  She hated herself for it. Hated him.

  A shaft of light pierced the darkness as the bedroom door opened, and her tense body became rigid as Nicos stood silhouetted in the aperture.

  Katrina’s lashes fanned down. Maybe if she lay perfectly still he’d assume she was asleep.

  She should have known better. Within seconds she felt the bed covers move, followed by the faint depression of the mattress as he slid in beside her.

  How long before he reached for her? Five seconds, ten?

  Minutes later she was still counting, and it took concentration to keep her breathing steady.

  ‘What do you plan?’ Nicos drawled. ‘A game of musical beds?’

  Had he known she was awake? Or was he simply taking a calculated guess?

  ‘Don’t sulk.’

  ‘I’ve never sulked in my life,’ Katrina vented as she turned her head towards him, then wished she hadn’t, for he lay facing her, an elbow propped on the pillow.

  With a fluid movement he reached out and snapped on the bedside lamp.

  The light illuminated his features, and his dark gleaming gaze held a tinge of humour…and something else she didn’t care to define.

  ‘I’m trying to sleep.’

  ‘Without success.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, then let it trail down to the edge of her mouth.

  ‘Don’t do that.’

  Her eyes were dark, the hollows smudged
through lack of sleep, and she was pale. He felt her lips quiver beneath his touch, and saw the pulse jump at the base of her throat.

  ‘Tired?’

  Heat began to flare in the region of her stomach, curling in an upward spiral, and she swallowed compulsively. ‘Yes.’

  He leaned towards her and placed his mouth against the soft curve at the edge of her own. ‘Want me to do all the work?’

  His hand trailed a path to her navel, paused, then travelled low to begin an intimate exploration.

  ‘You don’t play fair.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  ‘Is that a yes or a no?’

  He possessed a skilled knowledge that brought forth a strangled gasp as she arched against him.

  Nicos swept his tongue in an erotic dance with her own, nibbled at her lower lip, and absorbed the groan that rose from her throat.

  He took it slowly, seducing her with a gentle touch, so that she simply held on and allowed him to lead a path to total conflagration. Hers.

  Afterwards he held her close, his lips against her hair as he brushed light fingers back and forth along her spine.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SPRING was the traditional timing of the springtime gala dinner, hosted by one the city’s prominent fund-raising associations and headed by a media-conscious doyenne who utilised all her people skills to provide a glittering social occasion.

  With so many worthy charities abounding, it was possible for the socialites to lunch and dine out with repetitive frequency, and many did. Others were more selective, choosing to grace only certain events with their presence.

  Tonight’s soirée numbered high on the scale of derigueur attendances, Katrina acknowledged as she entered the grand ballroom of an inner city hotel at Nicos’s side.

  It also entailed some tactful juggling between Siobhan, Andrea and Chloe, who would each be seated at different tables with their individual coterie of friends. Somewhere in that equation would be Paula and Enrique, who retained an intense dislike for each other, but who would for the sake of social etiquette concede to present a united front…whilst doing their best to avoid each other like the plague.