Add general interest by fellow guests as to the state of Katrina and Nicos Kasoulis’s reconciliation, and the evening resembled something akin to a trial by fire.
Years of practice as Kevin’s daughter ensured she chose a stunning gown in pale mist-grey with a bias-cut overlay in pale blue polyester chiffon. It moulded her slender curves like a second skin, flaring out from the knee to swirl at her ankles. Tiny beaded straps were a token gesture holding the bodice in place, and her jewellery was confined to a delicate diamond necklace, ear studs, and matching bracelet. Stiletto-heeled pumps completed the outfit. She’d swept the length of her hair into an elegant twist.
Time spent perfecting her make-up ensured her armour was in place.
Smile, Katrina bade silently. Facial muscle strain was a small price to pay for surviving the evening.
‘Preparing to do battle?’ Nicos murmured as he led her towards their designated table.
‘Can you doubt it?’ Katrina conceded. ‘There’s Siobhan,’ she indicated, and felt the brush of his hand at the back of her waist.
‘Andrea and Chloe are seated on opposite sides of the room.’
She offered him a winsome smile. ‘Then let’s go do the greeting thing in order of priority.’
It was a while before they took seats at their own table, and she had the feeling as the evening progressed that they were merely players on a social stage, each performing a scripted part.
Did that encompass Nicos’s solicitous attention? The touch of his hand, the slow musing smile that sent tiny lines fanning out from the corner of his eyes?
There was a part of her that wanted it to be genuine, while another part was afraid to deal with it if it was.
She had only to look at him to see the man beneath the sophisticated façade. The impeccable tailoring sheathed a male body in superb physical condition, which exuded an aura that was sexually primitive and intensely sensual.
Those eyes, that mouth… Oh, for heaven’s sake, she chided silently. Control yourself!
The meal comprised three courses, skilfully broken up by brief speeches, and entertainment. It was while dessert was being served that Katrina took the opportunity to glance around the large room.
And felt her heart jolt at the sight of a familiar sleek dark head. The height, the stance…
It couldn’t be, could it?
Even as she watched, the woman slowly turned, and Katrina sensed the blood drain from her face.
Georgia.
What was she doing here? Not so much in Sydney, but here, attending an invitation-only event…
Then she saw her stepbrother hand Georgia a drink, and everything fell into place.
Enrique, enraged at her repeated refusal to lend him money, had chosen to cause trouble in the most diabolical way he knew how.
Dear heaven, why did her life seem filled with fraught situations?
Her first instinct was to escape. Except that would play right into Enrique’s hands, and she was darned if she’d give him the satisfaction.
Had Nicos sighted Georgia? Somehow she doubted it. He was deep in conversation with a colleague and, unless she was mistaken, Georgia and Enrique were beyond his peripheral vision.
Katrina sensed the moment Nicos saw her stepbrother and recognised his companion. He didn’t appear to move, but she was willing to swear most of his body muscles reassembled from relaxed mode to full alert beneath the fine tailoring of his evening suit.
Almost on cue, Georgia turned slightly and, with a smile and a word to Enrique, she excused herself and began threading her way towards them.
‘Now, this will be interesting,’ Katrina declared, sotto voce.
‘Behave,’ Nicos warned, and she threw him a stunning smile.
‘Why, Nicos,’ she chastised sweetly, ‘I intend to be politeness itself.’
There would be avid eyes watching every move, every nuance in her expressive features, she perceived.
The separation of Katrina and Nicos Kasoulis had garnered press at the time. Just as their reconciliation was gaining undue attention now.
The appearance of Nicos Kasoulis’s former mistress provided a reason for titillating gossip, and it didn’t take much imagination to realise the phone lines would be running hot with conjecture over Georgia Burton’s arrival in town.
‘Nicos.’ The name emerged from Georgia’s lips as a sultry purr, while at the same time her eyes devoured him. ‘I was hoping to see you here tonight.’
Sure. I just bet you planned it right down to the finest detail, Katrina thought silently as she inclined her head in acknowledgement. ‘Georgia.’
Georgia’s practised pout held just the right degree of regret. ‘You haven’t returned my calls.’
‘I had no reason to,’ Nicos informed her with an iciness that sent shivers down Katrina’s spine.
‘Not even for old times’ sake? We go back a long way.’
‘It’s over. It has been for some time.’
Her expression was mildly calculating. ‘How can you say that when we have a child together?’
‘You have a child,’ Nicos conceded, ‘whom we both know is not mine.’
‘Still in denial, Nicos?’
‘Perjury is a punishable offence.’
‘So is refusing to take responsibility for one’s child,’ Georgia retaliated.
‘Your bravado veers towards the incredible,’ Nicos stated grimly.
‘Incredible aptly describes your sexual skills.’ Georgia shifted her gaze to Katrina. ‘Surely you agree?’
‘I’m not into ego-stroking,’ Katrina proffered with pseudo sweetness.
‘And you think I am?’
Katrina didn’t bother to answer, and watched as Georgia offered a practised smile, then turned and melted into the milling guests.
‘That went down well.’
Nicos spared her a dark glance. ‘She’s courting trouble.’
‘And you won’t stand for it?’ Katrina queried, feeling the anger stir beneath a veneer of social politeness.
‘No.’
‘I think I need to go visit the powder room.’
‘Effecting a temporary escape?’
‘Right first time.’
She’d learned from an early age to pin a smile on her face and hold her head high… Years of practice meant ease in acquiring a social façade. It was a game, a pretense, and she did it well.
It helped her greet a few acquaintances as she threaded her way through the fellow guests, to pause and converse briefly with a one or two.
The powder room was relatively empty, and Katrina smoothed a hand over her hair, took time to freshen her lipstick, and was about to retreat when the inner door swung open and Georgia entered the room.
Coincidence? Unlikely. This was a deliberate move on the model’s part to initiate a one-on-one confrontation.
She could escape, but why, when Georgia was determined to have her say?
‘I imagine there’s a purpose to you following me here?’
‘Of course.’
‘So why don’t you get it over with?’
‘The terms of your late father’s will must be a terrible trial to you.’ Georgia inclined with practised languidness.
The game was about to commence. It took two to play, and she was determined not to lose. ‘In what way?’
‘Why…sharing the same house with Nicos, of course.’
Attack was better than defence. ‘After he betrayed me?’
‘Difficult, darling. Surely?’
‘We agreed to compromise,’ Katrina said steadily.
‘Oh?’
‘And enjoy the fringe benefits.’
‘Such as?’
‘Sex.’ She even managed to effect a secretive smile. ‘Nicos does the sex thing superbly well.’
Georgia’s eyes narrowed. One to Katrina. But how long before the model evened the score?
‘Agreed, darling. But can you be sure it’s you he’s thinking of at that…ah…’ she paused for effect ‘…intense mome
nt,’ she concluded with delicate emphasis.
Too soon, Katrina acknowledged.
‘How can you compete,’ Georgia continued archly, pitilessly, ‘when I have his son?’
‘Has that been proven conclusively?’
‘Why else would our individual lawyers be in the throes of hammering out a settlement and child support?’
Not so good, she conceded, aware just how the odds were stacked against her. ‘And where is your son, Georgia? Isn’t he a little young to leave with a sitter?’
‘My mother flew in from Brisbane with me. Naturally I have a nanny.’
Naturally. Whatever happened to hands-on motherhood?
‘If you’re so important to Nicos,’ she said carefully, ‘why didn’t he initiate divorce proceedings as soon as I left him?’
‘How can you be so sure he didn’t?’ Georgia countered. ‘A legal separation doesn’t require documentation, other than a noting of the date both parties live apart. The Australian legal system recognises a decree nisi application one year after the date of separation.’
‘In which case, our reconciliation has thrown a spanner in the works.’
Georgia mentally sharpened her claws and aimed for the kill. ‘Not really, darling. A year isn’t long in the scheme of things. I’m prepared to let him have you for a while.’ Her smile was pure feline. ‘After all, I’ll get to keep him for a lifetime.’
‘You’re that confident?’
‘Determined,’ the model assured.
Katrina felt sickened. ‘What makes you think I’ll give him up so easily?’
‘You did before. Why should this time be any different?’ A soft laugh slipped from her carefully painted mouth. ‘Oh, darling,’ she chastised with pitying candour, ‘you’re not going to fight for him, are you? It would be such a demeaning exercise.’
‘Demeaning to whom?’
There was a telling silence, then Georgia pursued softly, ‘I play to win.’
‘So do I.’
The model took a deliberate minute to check out her mirrored reflection before meeting Katrina’s unwavering gaze. ‘Then, we shall see who takes the prize.’
As an exit line it was a doozey.
It was several long seconds before Katrina felt calm enough to leave the relative sanctuary of the powder room and re-enter the ballroom lobby.
Nicos was standing close to one of the main doors, one of a remaining few guests, as most had already entered and were in the process of being seated.
He watched her cross the floor towards him, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of her carefully composed features.
She was a spunky lady in many ways, but grief for Kevin was taking its toll. Georgia with her insidious innuendo was an abomination, and Enrique was again trolling for cash.
He experienced angry exasperation at the hand fate had dealt him, and impatience at being forced to wait for the resolution. Yet it was the end that justified the means.
‘Georgia ensured a confrontation.’
Katrina lifted her chin and met his dark gaze with equanimity. ‘Ah, you noticed.’
‘There’s very little I don’t notice about you.’
‘Well, now, there’s the thing,’ she commented with unaccustomed flippancy. ‘I’m sure I should be flattered.’
‘She upset you.’ It wasn’t a query, merely a statement.
‘Observant, too. Please don’t ask me for a word-by-word replay.’
‘Katrina—’
‘Let’s go enter the social fray, shall we?’
‘It’ll keep.’
There were friends present whom they needed to connect with, acquaintances to acknowledge, and it was almost midnight before they could slip away.
Katrina sat quietly in the car as Nicos traversed city traffic and headed towards the eastern suburbs.
‘Want to talk about it?’
She transferred her attention from the brightly lit street and could define little from his shadowy profile.
He’d been so chillingly cool with Georgia…for her benefit? She returned her gaze to the scene beyond the windscreen. Even looking at him hurt.
‘Not particularly.’
As soon as they reached home she slid out from the car and moved through to the lobby ahead of him, mounting the stairs at a quickened pace, almost as if she was intent on putting as much distance between them as possible.
Which was ridiculous, she admitted silently as she reached the landing and made her way towards the bedroom.
Nicos followed, watching as she stepped out of her shoes, then she removed her jewellery before freeing the zip fastening on her gown.
‘I had no idea Georgia would be there tonight.’
Her fingers stilled for a few seconds, then she slid the straps free from her shoulders and carefully slipped the gown down over her hips.
All she wore were thong briefs, and he wondered if she had any idea how provocative she appeared. Pale, satin-textured skin, slender, toned curves, and firm breasts which fitted perfectly into his palms.
He wanted to skim his hands over her hips, then slide up to cup each breast, teasing the peaks with the tips of his thumbs, then replace his hands with his mouth.
‘I don’t really care.’ It was as well her face was hidden from him, otherwise he’d have seen through the fabrication in a heartbeat.
Then he was there, his hands turning her towards him, and he dealt with her token struggle as easily as if he were restraining a child.
There was little she could do to prevent him capturing her chin and tilting it so she had little option but to look at him.
‘Yes, you do.’
His voice was a soft drawl, and she fought against swallowing compulsively, afraid the gesture would give hint to her fragile emotions.
‘Don’t.’ The single word was a desperate plea as his head lowered down to hers, and she closed her mouth against him, only to have her lips part involuntarily at the first, slow sweep of his tongue.
It was a kiss to die for, gentle, evocative, pervasive, and she ignored the taunting little voice in her head that warned he was merely embarking on a skilled seduction.
A faint groan sighed in her throat as he reached for the pins in her hair, slipping them free with practised ease, then he threaded his fingers through its length and held fast her head, angling his own as he deepened the kiss to something that was almost an oral duplication of the sexual act itself.
Then it was too late, and she was unaware of him removing his clothes, only that he had, and she reached for him, drowning in his touch as he tumbled her down onto the bed, the magic his mouth was able to evoke, and her own unbridled response.
It was only later, much later that she rolled away from him, angry with herself for her own weakness and with him for what she perceived as his ability to take advantage of it.
‘Deny what we share, if you can,’ Nicos said hardily.
Her eyes assumed a fiery sparkle. ‘And that’s supposed to make me feel okay? You think I don’t hate myself for this…addiction to—’
‘Sex?’
‘You.’
‘Thank you, agape mou,’ he acknowledged silkily, ‘for the distinction.’
Katrina burst into angry speech. ‘I shouldn’t be able to feel like this. It’s—’ words momentarily failed her ‘—disgusting!’
His expression hardened, and she glimpsed a muscle tense at the edge of his jaw. ‘I can think of many apt descriptions,’ he said with deceptive quietness. ‘Disgusting isn’t one of them.’
‘What would you call it, then?’ she demanded.
‘Sensual magic. Primitive passion. Raw desire. Meshing into something unique…for both of us.’
Dear God. In the beginning it had been all of that, and more. Much more. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. Even now, after everything that had split them apart, the emotional intensity was just as fierce. A primeval force demanding recognition.
A year ago she would have vowed it was love. But how cou
ld she call it that now in the face of his infidelity? It didn’t make sense.
‘Yet three months after our marriage…three months,’ she emphasised, ‘your obviously not-so-ex-mistress delights in revealing she’s pregnant and names you the father.’ Her eyes sparked green fire. ‘A fact by anyone’s calculation that lays the proof of infidelity squarely at your door.’
Anger moved up a notch or two. ‘Hell, you must have gone straight from our nuptial bed to hers within days of returning from our honeymoon!’ It didn’t help to remember the idyllic, carefree few weeks they’d spent on Maui. Lazy days and long, love-filled nights.
‘At the time you took Georgia’s word over mine.’ Nicos wanted to shake her. ‘Did you pause to consider how that made me feel?’ His hands fisted, and he controlled the urgent need to smash something. Soon, he would have the proof he needed. But for now all he had was words.
‘Did it never at any time occur to you that Georgia deliberately set out to destroy our marriage? You, me?’
‘Yes.’ It was an honest admission, one that had been her first thought. A woman scorned could prove a dangerous threat. ‘But she provided dates, places…hotels.’ Receipts as confirmation. The horror of being presented with such proof came flooding back, the memory leaving her features pale, her eyes too large, too dark with remembered pain.
‘I wasn’t with her.’
‘Dammit, she was pregnant,’ Katrina vented. ‘She had medical proof.’ Her breath hitched, and she sought control. ‘She showed me a copy of the ultrasound.’ A video delivered to her apartment weeks later by special messenger. Vivid, cruel evidence she’d only been able to view for seconds before being physically ill.
It was too much. To think she’d behaved shamelessly and wantonly in his arms sickened her.
With a groan that was part despair, part self-loathing, she rolled to the edge of the mattress, only to have any form of escape felled before her feet could touch the carpet.
‘Let me go.’
His grasp was firm, with a hint of steel should she attempt to struggle. ‘No.’
She turned on him, like an angry, spitting feline. ‘What do you want to prove, Nicos? Superior male strength?’ Her eyes speared his, darkly luminous, and totally without fear. ‘Sensual expertise?’
The Helen Bianchin Collection Page 36
