The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  There was a mesmeric silence, intensifying until she became conscious of every breath she took.

  ‘I have known Angelica from birth,’ Stefano revealed with deceptive mildness, and a muscle tensed along the edge of his jaw. ‘Our affiliation owes itself to two sets of parents who immigrated to Australia more than forty years ago. They prospered in one business venture after another, achieving phenomenal success. So much so that hope was fostered that the only Alessi son might marry an Agnelli daughter and thus form a dynasty.’ He paused fractionally, and searched her pale features, seeing the faint shadows evident beneath her eyes. ‘It was a game I chose not to play,’ he added gently.

  Carly swallowed the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. ‘The way Angelica told it,’ she informed him shakily, ‘you were unofficially betrothed when you met me. If our engagement surprised her, our wedding threw her into a rage,’ she continued, unwilling to expound too graphically on just how much she’d been hurt by a woman who refused to face reality. ‘It appeared I was merely a temporary diversion, and there was little doubt she intended to be there to pick up the pieces.’ She effected a deprecatory shrug that hid a measure of pain.

  ‘Angelica,’ Stefano declared hardly, ‘possesses a vivid imagination. After today,’ he grained out with chilling inflexibility, ‘she has no doubt whom I love, or why.’ His expression softened as he watched the expressive play of emotions chasing each other across her features. ‘You, Carly,’ he elaborated gently. ‘Always. Only you.’

  Stefano shifted his hold, catching both her hands together in one of his, feeling her body quiver slightly as he traced a gentle pattern over the slim curve of her stomach before resting possessively at her trim waist. When his gaze met hers, she nearly died at the lambent warmth revealed in those dark depths.

  ‘There is nothing else you want to tell me?’

  Carly stood hesitantly unsure, and at the last moment courage failed her. Slowly she shook her head.

  Tomorrow, she’d visit the doctor and undergo a pregnancy test. Then she’d tell him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE MORNING BEGAN the same as any other week day. Stefano rose early, swam several lengths of the pool, ate breakfast with his wife, then showered, dressed and left for the city.

  At nine Carly checked with Sylvana, then changed into a smart lemon-yellow button-through linen dress, applied make-up with care, slid her feet into elegant shoes, and went downstairs to the car.

  The pregnancy test was performed with ease, and pronounced positive. Carly drove on to the hospital in a state of suspended euphoria.

  Ann-Marie looked really well, her eyes bright and shining as Carly walked into her room, and her beautiful hair was beginning to show signs of growth. A consultation with the specialist revealed that Ann-Marie could be discharged the following day.

  Carly almost floated down the carpeted corridor, and on impulse she crossed to the pay-phone, checked the directory, slotted in coins and keyed in the appropriate series of digits, then relayed specific instructions to the voice on the other end of the phone.

  A small secretive smile tugged the edges of her mouth as she drove into the city, and twenty minutes later she stood completing formalities in Reception at one of the inner city’s most elegant hotels.

  The lift whisked her with swift precision to the eleventh floor, and inside the luxurious suite she swiftly crossed the room, lifted the handset and dialled a memorised number.

  She was mad, absolutely crazy, she derided as the line engaged after a number of electronic beeps. What if Stefano wasn’t in the office? Worse, what if he was in an important meeting, and couldn’t leave? she agonised as the number connected with his personal mobile net.

  ‘Alessi.’ His voice sounded brisk and impersonal, and her stomach flipped, then executed a number of painful somersaults.

  ‘Stefano.’

  ‘Carly. Is something wrong?’

  ‘No—’ Hell, she was faltering, stammering like a schoolgirl. Taking a deep breath, she clenched the receiver and forced herself to speak calmly. ‘I’m fine.’ Dammit, this was proving more difficult than she’d envisaged.

  ‘Ann-Marie?’

  ‘She’s coming home tomorrow.’ The joy in her voice was a palpable entity that was reciprocated in his.

  Do it, tell him, a tiny voice prompted. ‘I wanted to ring and say…’ She hesitated slightly, then uttered the words with slow emphasis. ‘I love you.’

  A few seconds of silence followed, then his voice sounded incredibly husky close to her ear. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘In a hotel room, in the city.’

  His soft laughter sent spirals of sensation shooting through her body. ‘Which hotel, cara?’

  She named it. ‘It’s Sylvana’s day to vacuum,’ she explained a trifle breathlessly.

  ‘Ensuring that total privacy is out of the question,’ he drawled with a tinge of humour.

  ‘Totally,’ she agreed, and a tiny smile teased the edges of her mouth. ‘Is this a terribly inconvenient time for you?’

  ‘It wouldn’t make any difference.’

  Her heart leapt, then began thudding to a quickened beat. ‘No?’

  His husky chuckle did strange things to her equilibrium. ‘I’ll be with you in twenty minutes.’

  Carly relayed the room number, then softly replaced the receiver.

  Twenty minutes, she mused as she eased off her shoes. How could she fill them? Make a cup of coffee, perhaps, or select a chilled mineral water from the variety stocked in the bar-fridge.

  Her eyes travelled idly round the large room, noting the customary prints, the wall-lights, before settling on the bed.

  If she turned down the covers, it would look too blatant, and she didn’t quite possess the courage to remove all her clothes. What if she opened the door to find a maid or steward on the other side? she thought wildly.

  Damn. Waiting was agony, and she crossed to the sealed window and stood watching the traffic on the busy street below.

  Everyone appeared to be hurrying, and when the southbound traffic ground to a halt a clutch of people surged across the road to the opposite side. The lights turned green, and the northbound traffic gathered momentum, moving in a seemingly endless river of vehicles until green changed to amber and then to red, when the process began all over again.

  From this height everything seemed lilliputian, and she watched the cars, searching for the sleek lines of Stefano’s top-of-the-range Mercedes, although the likelihood of catching sight of it when she wasn’t even sure from which direction he’d be travelling seemed remote.

  It was a beautiful day, she perceived idly. There was a cloudless sky of azure-blue, the sun filtering in shafts of brilliant light between the tall city buildings.

  Time became a suspended entity, and it seemed an age before she heard the quiet double knock at the door.

  Her stomach reacted at once, leaping almost into her throat, and she smoothed suddenly damp hands down the seams of her dress as she crossed the suite to open the door.

  Stefano stood at ease, his tall frame filling the aperture, and she simply looked at him in silence. There was a vital, almost electric energy apparent, an inherent vitality that was compelling, and her pulse accelerated into a rapid beat.

  A faint smile teased his generous mouth, and his eyes were so incredibly warm that she almost melted beneath their gaze.

  ‘Do you intend to keep me standing here?’

  Pale pink tinged her cheeks as she stood to one side. Fool, she berated herself silently, feeling about as composed as a lovestruck teenager as she followed him into the centre of the room.

  When he turned she was within touching distance, yet he made no attempt to draw her into his arms.

  ‘I gather there was a degree of urgency in the need to book in to a hotel room?’

  There was no mistaking his soft teasing drawl, nor the expression evident in his eyes. It gave her the confidence to resort to humour.

  The sparkle in the
depths of her eyes flared into brilliant life, and she laughed softly. ‘Tonight we’re supposed to dine out with Sarah and James to celebrate Sarah’s birthday. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t hesitate to cancel.’ A devilish gleam emerged, dancing in the light of her smile. ‘I did consider a confrontation in your office, but the thought of Renate or any one of the staff catching sight of their exalted boss deep in an erotic clinch might prove too embarrassing to be condoned.’

  His lips twitched, then settled into a sensual curve. ‘Erotic?’

  ‘There’s champagne in the bar-fridge,’ Carly announced inconsequentially. ‘Would you like some?’

  ‘I’d like you to repeat what you said to me on the phone,’ he commanded gently, and her eyes were remarkably clear as they held his.

  ‘I love you. I always have,’ she stressed.

  ‘Grazie amore.’ He reached out and pulled her close in against him. His lips brushed her forehead, then began a slow, tantalising trail down to the edge of her mouth.

  ‘You’re my life,’ he said huskily. ‘My love.’

  There was such a wealth of emotion in his voice; she felt a delicious warmth begin deep within her as a thousand tiny nerve-endings leapt into pulsating life.

  ‘So many wasted years,’ she offered with deep regret. ‘Nights,’ she elaborated huskily. ‘Dear heaven, I missed you.’

  Her eyes widened as she glimpsed the expression in those dark depths mere inches above her own, then she gasped as his mouth moved to cover hers in a kiss that left her feeling shaken with a depth of emotion so intoxicating that it was as if she was soaring high on to a sensual pinnacle of such incredible magnitude that she felt weightless, and totally malleable.

  ‘Don’t,’ Stefano chastised softly. ‘We have today, and all the tomorrows. A lifetime.’

  Her eyes were wondrously expressive as she lifted her hands and wound them round his neck. ‘What time do you have to be back at the office?’

  ‘I told Renate to reschedule the remainder of the day’s appointments,’ he revealed solemnly.

  A delightfully bewitching smile lit her features, and her lips curved to form a teasing smile. ‘We have until two, when I visit Ann-Marie in hospital.’

  His hands slid down over her hips, and she gloried in the feel of him as he drew her close and brushed his lips close to her ear. ‘We’ll go together.’ The tip of his tongue traced the sensitive whorls, and she shivered as sensation shafted through her body.

  A soft laugh bubbled up from her throat to emerge as an exultant sound of delicious anticipation. ‘Meantime, I have a few plans for the next few hours.’ Leaning away from him, she murmured her pleasure as he loosened his hold so that she could slip the jacket from his shoulders.

  His eyes gleamed with humour, and a wealth of latent passion. ‘Do you, indeed?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Her fingers set to work on his tie, then the buttons of his shirt. The belt buckle came next, and she hesitated fractionally as she undid the fastener at his waist and freed the zip. ‘Something wildly imaginative with champagne and strawberries.’ A bubble of laughter emerged from her throat. ‘It’s rather decadent.’

  His shoes followed, his socks, until all he wore was a pair of silk briefs.

  ‘My turn, I think.’

  With unhurried movements he removed every last vestige of her clothing, then he leaned down and tugged back the covers from the large bed before gently pulling her down to lie beside him.

  His kiss melted her bones, and she gasped as his mouth began a treacherous path of discovery that encompassed every inch, every vulnerable hollow of her body.

  By the time his lips returned to caress hers, there wasn’t one coherent word she was capable of uttering, and she clung to him, eager, wanting, needing the sweet savagery of his lovemaking.

  A long time afterwards she lay catching her breath as she attempted to control the waywardness of her emotions, then slowly she moved, affording him a similar pleasuring until he groaned and pulled her to lie on top of him.

  ‘Minx,’ he growled softly, curving a hand round her nape and urging her mouth down to his. ‘Keep doing that, and I won’t be answerable for the consequences.’

  ‘Promises, promises,’ Carly taunted gently as she initiated a kiss that he allowed her to control. Then she rose up and arched her back, stretching like a kitten that had just had its fill of cream.

  The soft sigh of contentment changed to a faint gasp as he positioned her to accept his length, and now it was he who was in command, watching her fleeting emotions with musing indulgence as he led her towards a climactic orgasmic explosion that had her crying out his name as wave after wave of sensation exploded from deep within her feminine core, radiating to the furthest reaches of her body in an all-consuming pleasurable ache that gradually ebbed to a warm afterglow, lasting long after they’d shared a leisurely shower and slipped into the complimentary towelling robes.

  ‘Hmm,’ Carly murmured as Stefano came to stand behind her and drew her back into the circle of his arms. ‘I’m hungry.’ She felt his lips caress her nape, and she turned slightly towards him. ‘For food, you insatiable man!’

  ‘Do you want to dress and go down to the restaurant, or shall I order Room Service?’

  She pretended to consider both options, then directed him a teasing smile. ‘Room Service.’ She was loath to share him with anyone, and although the time was fast approaching when they must dress and leave she wanted to delay it as long as possible. ‘Besides,’ she teased mercilessly, ‘there’s still the champagne.’

  Choosing from the menu and placing their order took only minutes, and afterwards Stefano pulled her back into his arms and held her close.

  She drew in a deep breath, then released it slowly. ‘I’ve been giving some thought to going back to work next year.’

  His eyes took on a new depth, then assumed a musing speculative gleam. ‘What if I were to make you a better offer?’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Working from home, maintaining order with my paperwork, liaising with Renate?’

  Carly pretended to consider his proposal, tilting her head to one side in silent contemplation.

  ‘Flexible hours, harmonious working conditions, and intimate terms with the boss?’ she teased.

  ‘Very intimate terms,’ he conceded with a sloping smile.

  ‘I accept. Conditionally,’ she added with attempted solemnity, and was unable to prevent the slight catch in her breath. ‘I’m not sure of your stance on employing pregnant women.’

  He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he kissed her, so gently and with such reverence that it was all she could do not to cry.

  ‘Thank you,’ Stefano said simply, and she smiled a trifle tremulously.

  ‘If this pregnancy follows the same pattern as it did with Ann-Marie,’ she warned with musing reflection, ‘I’ll begin feeling nauseous within the next few weeks.’ She wrinkled her nose at him in silent humour. ‘How will you cope with a wife who has to leap out of bed and run to the bathroom every morning?’

  ‘Ensure that you have whatever it is you need until such time as you feel you can face the day.’

  Carly blinked rapidly, then offered shakily, ‘Did I tell you how much I love you?’

  Room Service delivered their lunch, but it was another hour before they ate the food. Afterwards they slowly dressed and made their way down to the car park.

  ‘I’ll follow you to the hospital,’ Stefano said gently as he saw her seated behind the wheel of her car. ‘Travel carefully, cara.’

  ‘We really should stop meeting like this,’ Carly declared with impish humour, and heard his husky laugh. Her smile widened into something so beautiful that he caught his breath. ‘People might get the wrong idea,’ she said with mock-solemnity.

  ‘Indeed?’

  ‘Indeed,’ she concurred with a bewitching smile. ‘I think we should limit it to special occasions.’

  ‘Such as?’

  She fastened her seatbelt, then f
ired the engine. ‘Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something.’ With a devilish grin, she engaged the gear, then eased the car out of its parking bay. ‘Ciao, caro.’

  She felt deliciously wicked as she cleared the exit and slid into the flow of traffic. An exultant laugh emerged from her throat.

  Anyone could be forgiven for thinking she was a mistress having an affair with a passionate lover. And she was. Except that the lover was her husband, and there was nothing illicit or furtive about their relationship.

  Only mutual love and a shared bond that would last a lifetime.

  Desert Mistress

  Helen Bianchin

  CHAPTER ONE

  KRISTI put the finishing touches to her make-up, then stood back from the mirror to scrutinise her reflected image. An. image she had deliberately orchestrated to attract one man’s attention. That it would undoubtedly gain the interest of many men was immaterial.

  The dress she’d chosen was fashioned in indigo raw silk; its deceptively simple cut emphasised her generously moulded breasts and narrow waist, and provided a tantalising glimpse of silk-clad thigh. Elegant high-heeled shoes completed the outfit.

  Dark auburn hair fell to her shoulders in a cascade of natural curls, and cosmetic artistry highlighted wide-spaced, topaz-flecked hazel eyes, accented a delicate facial bone structure and defined a sensuously curved mouth. Jewellery was kept to a minimum—a slim-line gold watch, bracelet and earstuds.

  Satisfied, Kristi caught up her evening coat, collected her purse and exited the hotel suite.

  Downstairs the doorman hailed her a taxi with one imperious sweep of his hand, and once seated she gave the driver a Knightsbridge address, then sank back in contemplative silence as the vehicle eased into the flow of traffic.

  The decision to travel to London had been her own, despite advice from government officials in both Australia and England that there was little to be gained in the shift of location. ‘Wait,’ she’d been cautioned, ‘and allow them to do their job.’