The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  ‘You’re looking a little peaky, darling. You’re not coming down with something, are you?’

  ‘A headache, Mamma.’ It wasn’t too far from the truth.

  Teresa frowned with concern. ‘Take some tablets, and get some rest.’

  As if rest was the panacea for everything! ‘Carlo and I are attending the sculpture exhibition at the Gallery tonight.’

  ‘It’s just as well Carlo is whisking you away to the Coast for the weekend. The break will do you good.’

  Somehow Aysha doubted it.

  The Gallery held a diverse mix of invited guests, some of whom attended solely to be seen and hopefully make the social pages. Others came to admire, with a view to adding to their collection.

  Carlo and Aysha fell into a separate category. A close friend was one of the exhibiting artists and they wanted to add their support.

  ‘Ciao, bella,’ a male voice greeted, and Aysha turned to face the extraordinarily handsome young man who’d sent his personal invitation.

  ‘Bruno!’ She flung her arms wide and gave him an enthusiastic hug. ‘How are you?’

  ‘The better for seeing you.’ He lowered his head and bestowed a kiss to each cheek in turn. ‘Damn Carlo for snaring you first.’ He withdrew gently and looked deeply into those smoky grey eyes, then he turned towards Carlo and lifted one eyebrow in silent query. ‘Carlo, amici. Come stai?’

  Something passed between both men. Aysha glimpsed it, and sought to avert any swing in the territorial parameters by tucking one hand through Carlo’s arm.

  ‘Come show us your exhibits.’

  For the next half-hour they wandered the large room, pausing to examine and comment, or converse with a few of the fellow guests.

  Aysha moved towards a neighbouring exhibit as Carlo was temporarily waylaid by a business acquaintance.

  ‘Your lips curve wide with a generous smile, yet your eyes are sad,’ said Bruno. ‘Why?’

  The wedding is a week tomorrow.’ She gave a graceful shrug. ‘Teresa and I have been shopping together every day, and nearly every night Carlo and I have been out.’

  ‘Sad, cara,’ Bruno reiterated. ‘I didn’t say tired. If Carlo isn’t taking care of you, he will answer to me.’

  She summoned a wicked smile and her eyes sparkled with hidden laughter. ‘Swords at dawn? Or should that be pistols?’

  ‘I would take pleasure in breaking his nose.’

  She turned to check on the subject of their discussion, and stiffened. Bruno, acutely perceptive, shifted his head and followed her gaze. ‘Ah, the infamous Nina.’

  The statuesque brunette looked stunning in red, the soft material hugging every curve like a well-fitting glove.

  Bruno leant down and said close to Aysha’s ear, ‘Shall we go break it up?’

  ‘Let’s do that.’ The smile she proffered didn’t reach her eyes, and her heart hammered a little in her chest as she drew close.

  Nina’s tapered red-lacquered nails rested on Carlo’s forearm, and Aysha watched those nails conduct a gentle caressing movement back and forth over a small area of his tailored jacket.

  Nina’s make-up was superb, her mouth a perfect glossy red bow.

  ‘Want me to charm her?’ Bruno murmured, and Aysha responded equally quietly.

  ‘Thanks, but I can fight my own battles.’

  ‘Take care, cara. You’re dealing with a dangerous cat.’ He paused as they reached Carlo’s side. ‘Your most precious possession,’ Bruno said lightly, and inclined his head with deliberate mockery, ‘Nina.’ Then he smiled, and moved through the crowd.

  Wise man, Aysha accorded silently, wishing she could do the same.

  ‘Darling, do get me a drink. You know what I like.’

  Aysha began a mental countdown the moment Carlo left to find a waitress.

  ‘I imagine you’ve checked the photographs?’ Nina raised one eyebrow and raked Aysha’s slender frame. ‘Caused a little grief, did they?’

  ‘Wasn’t that your purpose?’ Aysha was cold, despite the warmth of the summer evening.

  ‘How clever of you,’ Nina approved. ‘Have you decided to condone his transgressions? I do hope so.’ Her smile was seductively sultry. ‘I would hate to have to give him up.’

  Her heart felt as if it was encased in ice. ‘You’ve missed your vocation,’ she said steadily.

  ‘What makes you say that, darling?’

  She needed the might of a sword, but a verbal punch-line was better than nothing. ‘You should have been an actress.’ A smile cost her almost every resource she had, but she managed one beautifully, then she turned and threaded her way towards one of Bruno’s sculptures.

  ‘Who won?’

  Bruno could always be counted on, and she cast him a wry smile. ‘You noticed.’

  ‘Ah, but I was looking out for you.’ He curved an arm around the back of her waist. ‘Now, tell me what you think about this piece.’

  She examined it carefully. ‘Interesting,’ she conceded. ‘If I say it resembles my idea of an African fertility god, would it offend you?’

  ‘Not at all, because that’s exactly what it is.’

  ‘You’re just saying that to make me feel good.’

  He placed a hand over his heart. ‘I swear.’

  She began to laugh, and he smiled down at her. ‘Why not me, cara?’ he queried softly, and hugged her close. ‘I’d treat you like the finest porcelain.’

  ‘I know,’ she said gently, and with a degree of very real regret.

  ‘You love him, don’t you?’

  ‘Is it that obvious?’

  ‘Only to me,’ he assured her quietly. ‘I just hope Carlo knows how fortunate he is to have you.’

  ‘He does.’

  Aysha heard that deep musing drawl, glimpsed the latent darkness in his eyes, and gently extricated herself from Bruno’s grasp. ‘I was admiring Bruno’s sculpture.’

  Carlo cast her a glittering look that set her nerves on edge. How dared he look at her like that when he’d been playing up close and personal with Nina?

  ‘Don’t play games, cara,’ Carlo warned as soon as Bruno was out of earshot.

  ‘Practise what you preach, darling,’ she said sweetly. ‘And please get me a drink. It’ll give Nina another opportunity to waylay you.’

  He bit off a husky oath. ‘We can leave peaceably, or not,’ he said with deceptive quietness. ‘Your choice.’ He meant every word.

  ‘Bruno will be disappointed.’

  ‘He’ll get over it.’

  ‘I could make a scene,’ Aysha threatened, and his expression hardened.

  ‘It wouldn’t make any difference.’

  It would, however, give Nina the utmost pleasure to witness their dissension. ‘I guess we get to say goodnight,’ she capitulated with minimum grace.

  Ten minutes later she was seated in the Mercedes as it purred across the Harbour Bridge towards suburban Clontarf.

  She didn’t utter a word during the drive, and she reached for the door-clasp the instant Carlo drew the car to a halt. It would be fruitless to tell him not to follow her indoors, so she didn’t even try.

  ‘Bruno is a friend A good friend,’ she qualified, enraged at his high-handedness. ‘Which is more than I can say for Nina.’

  ‘Neither Bruno nor Nina are an issue.’

  Her chin tilted as she glared up at him. ‘Then what the hell is the issue?’

  ‘We are,’ he vouchsafed succinctly.

  ‘Well, now,’ Aysha declared. ‘There’s the thing. Nina is quite happy for you to marry me, just as long as she gets to remain your mistress.’

  His eyes filled with chilling intensity. ‘Nina has one hell of an imagination.’

  She’d had enough. ‘Go home, Carlo.’ Her eyes blazed with fury. ‘If you don’t, I’ll be tempted to do something I might regret.’

  She wasn’t prepared for the restrained savagery evident as his mouth fastened on hers, forcing it open and controlling it as his tongue pillaged the inner sweetness.
It was a deliberate ravishment of her senses. Claim-staking, punishing. She lost all sensation of time as one hand slid through her hair to hold fast her head, while the other curved low down her back.

  Then the pressure eased, and the punishing quality changed to passion, gradually dissipating to a sensuous gentleness that curled round her inner core and tugged at her emotions, seducing until she was weak-willed and malleable.

  From somewhere deep inside she dredged sufficient strength to tear her mouth free, and her body trembled as he traced the edge of his thumb across the swollen contours of her lips.

  ‘Nina is nothing to me, do you understand? She never has been. Never will be.’

  She didn’t say a word. She just looked at him, glimpsed the faint edge of regret, and was incapable of moving.

  He pulled her close and buried her head in the curve of his shoulder, then he pressed his lips to her hair.

  Aysha could feel the power in that large body, the strength, and she felt strangely ambivalent. ‘I don’t want you to stay.’

  ‘Because you’ll only hate me in the morning?’

  She drew a shaky breath. ‘I’ll hate myself even more.’

  All he had to do was kiss her, and she’d change her mind. Part of her wanted him so much it was an impossible ache. Yet if she succumbed she’d be lost, and that wouldn’t achieve a thing.

  He held her for what seemed an age, then he turned her face to his and brushed his lips across her own, lingered at one corner and angled his mouth into hers in a kiss that was so incredibly evocative it dispensed with almost all her doubts.

  Almost, but not quite. He sensed die faint barrier, and gently put her at arm’s length.

  ‘I’ll pick you up at seven, OK?’

  It was easy to simply nod her head, and she watched as he turned and walked to the door. Seconds later she heard his car’s engine start, and she checked the lock, then activated security before crossing to her room.

  Sleep seemed a distant entity, and she switched on the television in the hope of discovering something which would occupy her interest Except channel-hopping provided nothing she wanted to watch, and she retired to her bedroom, then lay staring at the ceiling for what seemed hours before finally slipping into a restless slumber in which vivid dreams assumed nightmarish proportion as Nina took the role of vamp.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  AYSHA woke early, padded barefoot to the kitchen, poured herself some fresh orange juice, then headed outdoors to swim several laps of the pool.

  After fifteen minutes or so she emerged, towelled off the excess moisture, then retreated indoors to change and make breakfast.

  The ambivalence of the previous evening had disappeared, and in the clear light of day it seemed advantageous for she and Carlo to spend the weekend apart.

  With that thought in mind she crossed to the phone and punched in his number. The answering machine picked up, and she replaced the receiver down onto the handset.

  He was probably in the shower, or, she determined with a glance at her watch, he could easily have left. She keyed in the digits that connected with his mobile, and got voicemail.

  Damn. It would have been less confrontational to cancel via the phone than deal with him in person.

  It was almost seven when Carlo walked into the kitchen, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of her in cut-off denims and skimpy top.

  ‘You’re not ready.’

  ‘No.’ Her response was matter-of-fact. ‘I think we both need the weekend apart.’

  His expression was implacable. ‘I disagree. Go change and get your holdall. We don’t have much time.’

  ‘Give me one reason why I should go?’ she demanded, tilting her chin at him in a way that drove him crazy, for he wanted to kiss her until all that fine anger melted into something he could deal with.

  ‘I can give you several But right now you’re wasting valuable time.’

  Without a word he strode through the lounge and ascended the stairs. She followed after him, watching as he entered the bedroom, opened a cupboard, extracted a leather holdall and tossed it down onto the bed, then he riffled through her clothes, selected, discarded, then opened drawers and took a handful of delicate underwear and dumped it in the holdall.

  ‘What in hell do you think you’re doing?’

  A pair of heeled pumps followed sandals.

  ‘I would have thought it was obvious.’

  He moved into the en suite bathroom, collected toiletries and make-up, and swept them into a cosmetic case. He lifted his head long enough to spare her a searching look.

  ‘You might want to change.’

  Her eyes flashed fire. ‘I might not,’ she retaliated swiftly.

  He shrugged his shoulders, pressed everything into the holdall, then closed the zip fastener.

  ‘OK, let’s go.’

  ‘Don’t you listen?’ His implacability brought her to a state of rage. ‘I am not going anywhere.’

  Carlo was dangerously calm. Too calm. ‘We’ve already done this scene.’

  Aysha was too angry to apply any caution. ‘Well, hell. Let’s do it again.’

  ‘No.’ He slung the holdall straps over one shoulder, then he curved an arm round her waist and hoisted her over one shoulder with an ease that brought forth a gasp of outrage.

  ‘You fiend! What do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Abducting you.’

  ‘In the name of God... Why?’

  Carlo strode out of the room and began descending the short flight of stairs. ‘Because we’re flying to the Coast, as planned.’

  She struggled, and made no impression. In sheer frustration she pummelled both hands against his back. ‘Put me down!’

  He didn’t alter stride as he negotiated the stairs, and she aimed for his ribs, his kidneys, anywhere that might cause him pain. All to no avail, for he didn’t so much as grunt when each punch connected.

  ‘If you don’t put me down this instant, I’ll have you arrested for attempted kidnapping, assault, and anything else I can think of!’

  Carlo reached the impressive foyer, took three more steps, then lowered her to stand in front of him.

  ‘No, you won’t.’

  He was bigger, broader, taller than her, yet she refused to be intimidated. ‘Want to bet?’

  ‘Cool it, cara.’

  ‘I am not your darling.’

  His mouth curved with amusement, and she poked him several times in the chest.

  ‘Don’t you dare laugh!’

  He curled his hands over her shoulders and held her still. ‘What would you have me do? Kiss you? Haul you across one knee and spank your deliciously soft derrière?’

  ‘Soft?’ She worked out, and while her butt might be curved, it was tight

  ‘If you keep opposing me, I’ll be driven to effect one or the other.’

  ‘Lay a hand on me, and I’ll—’

  He was much too swift, and any further words she might have uttered were lost as his mouth closed over hers in a deep, punishing kiss which took hold of her anger and turned it into passion.

  Aysha wasn’t conscious when it changed, only that it did, and the fists she lashed him with gradually uncurled and crept up to his nape to cling as emotion wrought havoc and fragmented all her senses.

  Carlo slowly eased the heat, and his mouth softened as he gently caressed the swollen contours of her lips, then pressed light butterfly kisses along the tender curve to one corner and back again.

  When he lifted his head she could only look at him with drenched eyes, and he traced a forefinger down the slope of her nose.

  ‘Now that I have your full attention... A weekend at the Coast will remove us from all the madness. No pressures, no demands, no social engagements.’

  And no chance of accidentally bumping into Nina.

  ‘Last call, Aysha,’ Carlo indicated with a touch of mockery. ‘Stay, or go. Which is it to be?’

  It wasn’t the time for deliberation. ‘Go,’ she said decisively, and hear
d his husky laughter.

  They made the flight with ten minutes to spare, and touched down at Coolangatta Airport just over an hour later. It was almost ten when they checked into the hotel, and within minutes of entering into their suite Aysha crossed to the floor-to-ceiling glass window fronting the Broadwater, and released the sliding door.

  She could hear the muted sound of traffic, voices drifting up from the pool area. Adjacent was an enclosed man-made beach with a secluded cave and waterfall.

  In the distance she could see the architecturally designed roof resembling a collection of sails atop an exclusive shopping centre fronting a marina and connected by a walkway bridge to an exclusive ocean-front hotel.

  A few minutes later she sensed rather than heard him move to stand behind her.

  ‘Peaceful.’

  It was, and she said so. ‘Yes.’

  His arms curved round her waist and he pulled her close. ‘What do you want to do with the day?’

  There was a desperate need to get out of the hotel suite, and lose herself among the crowds. ‘A theme park?’ She said the first one that came into her head. ‘Dreamworld.’

  He hid a wry smile. ‘I’ll organise it.’

  ‘Just like that?’

  ‘We can hire a car and drive into the mountains, take any one of several cruises.’ His shoulders shifted as he effected a lazy shrug. ‘You get to choose.’

  ‘For today?’

  ‘All weekend,’ he said solemnly.

  ‘Give me too much power, and it might go to my head,’ Aysha teased, suddenly feeling more in control.

  ‘I doubt it.’

  He knew her too well. ‘After dinner we go to the Casino, then tomorrow we do Movieworld.’ Crowds, lots of people. Which left only the hours between midnight or later and dawn spent in this beautiful suite, with its very large, prominently positioned bed.

  Dreamworld was fun. They played tourist and took a bus there, went on several rides, ate hot dogs and chips as they wandered among the crowd. Aysha laughed at the white tigers’ antics, viewed the Tower of Terror and voiced an emphatic no to Carlo’s suggestion they take the ride.

  It was almost six when the bus deposited them outside the hotel.

  ‘I’ll have first take on the shower,’ Aysha indicated as they rode the lift to their designated floor.