The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  All he had to do was catch the waiter’s attention, and seconds later their drinks were delivered. Nikos possessed a certain air of command that drew notice. Add a compelling degree of power with sophisticated élan, and the combination was lethal.

  Her eyes were drawn to those strong sculpted features, the broad facial bone structure, the well-defined jaw, and the firm lines of his mouth.

  What would he be like if ever he lost control? A faint shiver slithered its way over the surface of her skin. Devastating, a tiny voice prompted. Unbridled, flagrant, primitive.

  At that moment his eyes met hers, and held. Her own dilated, and she felt as if her breath became suspended. Then his lips curved to form a lazy smile that held knowledge and a sense of pleasurable anticipation.

  He couldn’t see what she was thinking...could he? And it wasn’t as if she wanted to go to bed with him. Heaven forbid! That would be akin to selling her soul. Besides, you might never recover, a secret inner voice taunted.

  She’d seen women who never experienced their sexual equal prowl the party circuit in search of an adequate replacement. They tended to possess few scruples, dressed to kill, and drank a little too much.

  She needed to get away for a few minutes, and the powder room provided an excellent reason. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’ She handed her champagne flute to Nikos. ‘I won’t be long.’

  Michelle paused several times en route to extend a greeting to a number of her parents’ friends. Indoors there were two guests lingering adjacent the powder room, and she by-passed them and headed for the curved flight of stairs leading to the upper floor which housed her parents’ suite and no less than five guest rooms with en suite facilities.

  She chose one, then lingered to tidy her hair and retouch her lipstick.

  Michelle emerged into the bedroom, and came to a shocked standstill at the sight of Jeremy leaning against the doorjamb.

  ‘These are my parents’ private quarters,’ she managed evenly.

  She kept walking, hoping he would move aside and allow her to pass. He didn’t, and she paused a few feet in front of him. ‘Jeremy, you’re blocking my way.’

  Her instincts were on alert. However, the upper floor was well insulated from the people and noise on the terrace out back of the house. Even if she screamed, it was doubtful anyone would hear a thing.

  She took a step forward only to have him catch hold of her arm.

  ‘Wasn’t I good enough?’ Jeremy demanded softly.

  ‘Your father and mine are business associates,’ she said carefully. ‘Our parents share a similar social circle. We were friends,’ she added.

  ‘You’re saying that’s all it was?’

  ‘For me, yes.’ She looked at him, glimpsed the darkness apparent in his eyes, and knew she’d need to tread carefully. ‘I’m sorry if you thought it was more than friendship.’

  ‘If Nikos hadn’t put in an appearance that night...’ He trailed to a halt.

  She was silent for several long seconds. ‘It wouldn’t have made any difference.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ he said fiercely. ‘You have to give me another chance.’

  Not in this lifetime. She chose not to say a word.

  ‘Michelle!’ The plea was impassioned, and desperate. Too desperate.

  ‘What do you hope to achieve by holding me here?’ She had to keep talking. And pray someone, Nikos, would think it curious she’d been away so long and investigate.

  His face contorted. ‘Have you slept with him yet?’

  ‘You don’t have the right to ask that.’

  ‘Damn you. I’m making it my right.’ He yanked her close up against him, twisted her arm behind her back and thrust a hand between her thighs. His fingers were a vicious instrument for all of ten seconds before she went for the bridge of his nose, but he ducked and the side of her palm connected with his cheekbone.

  ‘I doubt Nikos will want you when he knows I’ve had you first.’

  All of a sudden she was free, and Jeremy lay groaning on the carpet.

  ‘You won’t have the opportunity.’ Nikos’ voice held the chill of an arctic floe. ‘A restraining order will be put into effect immediately. If you violate it, you’ll be arrested and charged.’

  Nikos swept her a swift encompassing glance, and his eyes darkened as he took in her waxen features, the way her fingers shook as they smoothed over her hair.

  ‘You can’t have me arrested,’ Jeremy flung wildly as he scrambled to his feet, and Michelle almost quaked at the controlled savagery evident in Nikos’ response.

  ‘Watch me.’

  ‘My father—’

  ‘Doesn’t have enough money to get you out of this one. Attempted rape is a serious charge.’

  Jeremy’s face reddened, and he blustered—‘I didn’t touch her.’

  Nikos reached out a hand and sought purchase on Jeremy’s jacket.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Detaining you while Michelle fetches your parents.’

  ‘Everything comes with a price. My father will pay yours.’

  ‘As he has in the past?’ Nikos queried silkily. ‘Not this time,’ he stated with a finality that moved Jeremy close to hysteria as Michelle stepped through the doorway.

  ‘Don’t bring my mother. She’d never understand.’

  ‘Then perhaps it’s time she did,’ Nikos said pitilessly.

  ‘Michelle, don’t,’ Jeremy begged. ‘I’ll do anything you want. I promise.’

  ‘We can do this one of two ways. Michelle fetches your parents and you’re removed from these premises without fuss. Or I force you downstairs and onto the terrace for a very public denouncement. Choose,’ he commanded hardily.

  Michelle smoothed a shaky hand over her hair in a purely reflex action as she descended the stairs. Reaction was beginning to set in, and she drew a deep breath in an effort to regain a measure of composure.

  What followed wasn’t something she would choose to experience again in a long time. Parental love was one thing. Blind maternal devotion was something else.

  Nikos dismissed Emerson’s bribe, and suggested the Bateson-Burrows remove their son as quickly as possible.

  At which point Chantelle arrived on the scene, took everything in with a glance, and demanded an explanation.

  ‘Jeremy has had a little too much to drink,’ Emerson indicated smoothly. ‘We’re taking him home.’

  As soon as they were alone Chantelle looked from Michelle to Nikos. ‘Would one of you care to tell me what really happened here?’

  Michelle didn’t say a word.

  ‘Nikos?’

  ‘Jeremy failed to accept Michelle and I have a relationship.’ His eyes were hard, his expression equally so. ‘He hassled her last night when she left the Gallery, and tonight he went one step further.’

  Chantelle looked suitably horrified. ‘Cherie, this is terrible. Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine, Maman,’ Michelle reassured her quietly.

  ‘I’ll see to it that Michelle initiates a restraining order. Jeremy has a history of violence,’ Nikos informed grimly. ‘One recorded offense in Sydney three years ago.’

  ‘The Bateson-Burrows moved to the Coast almost three years ago,’ Chantelle reflected slowly.

  ‘He was expelled from two private schools, and kicked out of University,’ Nikos continued. ‘In Perth, Adelaide, and Melbourne.’

  Chantelle straightened her shoulders. She didn’t ask how he acquired the information. It was enough that he had. ‘It’s to be hoped they soon leave the Coast.’

  ‘It appears to be a familiar pattern.’

  ‘Meanwhile, Michelle—’

  ‘Will stay with me.’

  ‘Now just a minute,’ Michelle intervened, and met his dark gaze.

  ‘It’s not negotiable, pedhi mou.’

  ‘The hell it’s not!’

  ‘Cherie, for my sake, as well as your own, do as Nikos suggests. Please.’

  ‘I’ll tell Saska we’re leaving ea
rly,’ Nikos declared. ‘If she wants to stay, she can get a taxi back to the hotel.’

  ‘Can I get you something, darling?’ Chantelle queried as soon as Nikos disappeared down the hallway. ‘A drink? Some coffee? A brandy?’

  ‘I’m OK. Really,’ she assured in a bid to lessen her mother’s anxiety. ‘Just a bit shaken, that’s all.’

  ‘Antonia and Emerson—Jeremy. I had no idea,’ she said wretchedly. ‘Thank heavens Nikos was here.’

  All this has happened because of Nikos, she felt like saying. Yet that wasn’t entirely true. Nikos’ presence had only accelerated Jeremy’s irrational jealousy.

  ‘Maman.’ She paused, then changed her mind against confiding that her purported relationship with the powerful Greek was just a sham.

  ‘Yes, darling?’

  ‘I’ll just go tidy up.’ She felt the need to remove Jeremy’s touch, preferably with a long very thorough soaping in the shower. But for now, she’d settle for pressing a cold flannel to her face and redoing her hair.

  Nikos had returned by the time she emerged, and she met his swift gaze, held it, then she crossed to brush her lips to her mother’s cheek.

  ‘I’ll ring you in the morning.’

  Chantelle hugged her close, then reluctantly released her. ‘Please. Take care.’

  Minutes later Nikos eased the powerful BMW onto the road, and she didn’t offer a word as he drove to Main Beach.

  ‘I’ll be fine on my own,’ Michelle stated as he parked the car outside her apartment building and slid out from behind the wheel.

  ‘Nice try.’

  She faced him across the car roof, glimpsed the dark glittery look he cast her, and felt like stamping her foot in frustrated anger. ‘Look—’

  ‘Do you want to walk, or have me carry you?’ Nikos’ voice was hard, his intention inflexible.

  ‘Go to hell!’

  ‘I’ve been there. Twice in the past twenty-four hours. It’s not something I plan to repeat.’ He moved round the car to her side. ‘Now, which way is it going to be?’

  ‘If you dare—’ Whatever else she planned to say was lost in a muffled sound as he simply hoisted her over one shoulder, walked to the entrance, activated the door with her security card, then strode towards the bank of lifts at the far end of the lobby.

  ‘Put me down, dammit!’ She beat fists against his back, aimed for his kidneys, and groaned in frustration when he shifted her out of range. A mean-intentioned kick failed to connect, and she growled as fiercely as a feline under attack as he gained the lift, punched the appropriate panel button, then when the lift stopped, he walked calmly to her apartment, unlocked the door, and only when they were inside did he let her slide down to her feet.

  ‘You want to fight?’ he challenged silkily. ‘Go ahead.’

  She wanted to, badly, and right at this precise moment she didn’t care that she couldn’t win.

  ‘You,’ she vented with ill-concealed fury. ‘Are the most arrogant, egotistical man I’ve ever met. I want you to leave, now.’

  ‘It’s here,’ Nikos stated ruthlessly. ‘Or my apartment. Choose.’

  Something about his stance, the stillness of his features slowly leeched most of the anger from her system.

  ‘Don’t you think you’re taking the hero role too far?’

  ‘No.’

  Succinct, and clearly unmoveable. Maybe she should just concede defeat now and save her emotional and physical energy. It would be a whole lot easier than continuing to rage against him.

  ‘I could ring the police and have them evict you.’ It was a last-ditch effort, and she knew it.

  ‘Go ahead.’

  She badly wanted to call his bluff. Except she had no trouble visualising how such a scene would evolve, and how it would inevitably prove to be an exercise in futility.

  Occasionally there could be success in conceding defeat. ‘You can sleep in the spare room.’

  She turned away from him and crossed the lounge to her bedroom and carefully closed the door.

  If he insisted on staying—fine. She was going to have a long hot bath with bath oil and bubbles...the whole bit Then when she was done, she’d dry off and climb into bed, hopefully to sleep until the alarm went off in the morning.

  Michelle stayed in the scented water for a long time. It was bliss, absolute bliss to lay there and let the perfumed heat seep into her bones and soothe her mind.

  It had a soporific effect, and she closed her eyes. For only a minute, she was prepared to swear, when a rapid knock on the door caused her to jackknife into a sitting position.

  Seconds later the door opened and Nikos walked calmly into the bathroom.

  ‘What the hell are you doing in here?’

  She looked like a child, was his first thought, with her hair piled on top of her head, and all but buried beneath a layer of frothy foam.

  ‘Checking you hadn’t fallen asleep and drowned.’

  Her eyes were huge, the pupils dilated with anger.

  Most women would have sank back displaying most if not all of their breasts, and behaved like a sultry temptress by inviting him to join them.

  ‘You could have waited for me to answer!’

  ‘You didn’t,’ he relayed coolly. ‘That’s why I came in.’

  ‘Well, you can just turn around and go out again!’ Indignation brought pink colour to her cheeks, and she looked at him through stormy eyes. Then, in a totally unprecedented action, she did the unforgivable. She scooped up water and foam and threw it at him in a spontaneous action that surprised her almost as much as it did him.

  Her aim was good, it drenched the front part of his shirt, and she watched in fascination as a patch of foam began to dissipate. Then she lifted her gaze to lock with his. And wished fervently that she hadn’t, for what she glimpsed there made her feel terribly afraid.

  There was strength of purpose, a knowledge that was entirely primitive. For a moment she thought he was going to reach forward and drag her out of the bath and into his arms.

  It was uncanny, but she could almost feel his mouth on hers, savour the taste of him as he invaded the soft inner tissues and explored them with his tongue. Staking a possession that could only have one ending.

  The breath caught in her throat, and for seemingly long seconds she wasn’t capable of saying a word.

  ‘You provoked me,’ she managed at last.

  ‘Is that an apology?’ Nikos demanded silkily.

  ‘An explanation.’

  His eyes speared hers. ‘Pull the plug, and get out of the bath.’

  She looked at him incredulously. ‘While you’re still here? Not on your life!’

  He reached out, collected a large bath towel, unfolded it and held it out.

  Nikos saw the anger drain out of her. Her eyes slowly welled, leaving them looking like drenched pools. It twisted his gut, and undid him more than anything she could have said. Without a word he replaced the towel, then he turned and walked from the en suite.

  Michelle released the bath water, towelled herself dry, then she pulled on a huge cotton T-shirt and slid into bed to sit hugging her knees as she stared sightlessly at a print positioned on the opposite wall.

  The events of the past few hours played and replayed through her mind until she made a concerted effort to dismiss them.

  Where was Nikos? Ensconced in the spare bedroom, or had he left the apartment?

  She had no way of knowing, and told herself she didn’t care. Except she had a vivid memory of the way her body reacted to his; the protective splay of his hand at her back; the intense warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. The feel of his mouth on hers, the way he invaded her senses and stirred them as no man had ever done before.

  Michelle shifted position, picked up a book from the pedestal and read for a while. Three nights ago she’d been so engrossed in the plot she hadn’t been able to put the book down. Now, she skimmed sentences and turned pages, only to discard it with disgust at her inability to focus on the plot.
r />   All she needed, she determined as she switched off the light, was a good night’s sleep.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MICHELLE woke with a start, the images so vivid for the space of a few seconds that she was prepared to swear they were real.

  Jeremy, maniacal. Nikos, dark and threatening.

  It was as if she was a disembodied spectator, watching the clash of steel as they fought, the thrust and parry as they each meshed their skill with physical prowess.

  Then there was darkness, and she heard a cry of pain, followed by silence. She tried to ascertain who was the victor, but his features eluded her.

  ‘Dear heaven,’ Michelle whispered as she shifted into a sitting position and switched on the bedlamp. Light flooded the room, and she relished the reality of familiar surroundings. Then she lifted her hands to her cheeks and discovered they were wet.

  She scrubbed them dry, then she slid out of bed, pulled on a wrap, and walked quietly out to the kitchen. The digital display on the microwave relayed the time as one-o-five.

  A cold drink would quench her thirst, and she selected a can, popped the top, and carried it into the lounge.

  The night was warm, and she had an urge to slide open the wide glass doors and let the fresh sea air blow away the cares of the past few days.

  Michelle stepped out onto the terrace and felt the coolness wash over her face. There was the tang of salt, a clean sweetness that drifted in from the ocean, and she breathed deeply as she took in the sweeping coastal view.

  Street lamps, bright splashes of neon, pinpricks of light that diminished with distance from enumerable high-rise apartment buildings lining the coastal strip.

  It resembled a fairyland of light against the velvet backdrop of an indigo night sky and ocean.

  She lifted the can and took a long swallow of cool liquid. The breeze teased loose a few stray tendrils of hair and pulled at the hem of her wrap.

  It could have been ten minutes or twenty before she returned indoors, and the sight of a tall male figure framed in the lounge brought her to a shocked standstill.

  Her rational mind assured it was Nikos, but just for a split second with the reflected hall light behind him, her imagination went into overdrive.

  ‘How long have you been standing there?’ Was that her voice, sounding slightly high and vaguely breathless?