The phone pealed, and she automatically reached for the receiver and intoned a professional greeting.
‘Michelle. Nikos.’
His voice was deeper and slightly more accented over the phone, and the sound of it evoked a pulsing warmth flooding her veins.
‘I’ve arranged an appointment with my lawyer at twelve-thirty.’
The restraining order. ‘I’ll reorganise my lunch hour.’
‘I’ll meet you at the Gallery and take you to Paul’s office,’ Nikos intimated, and she sank back in her chair, swivelled it to take in the view across the Nerang river.
‘I don’t think that’s necessary.’
‘Twelve-fifteen, Michelle.’
He hung up before she had the opportunity to argue.
‘Problems?’
Michelle swung back to face Emilio, who had walked into the office during the conversation. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ It was said more to convince herself than Emilio. Somehow she didn’t think any woman could manipulate Nikos. Unless he permitted it.
‘You left early last night.’
It was better she went with the fictional excuse. ‘I had a headache.’
He placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward. ‘This is Emilio, remember?’
She kept her gaze steady as he raked her pale features, then settled on the pulse at the base of her throat.
‘So, do we play guessing games, or are you going to tell me?’
‘OK.’ She used facetiousness and shock value as a form of defence. ‘Nikos took me home, and we made wild passionate love all night.’
His eyes lit with amusement, and something else she was unable to define. ‘Brava,’ he said gently. ‘I approve. Of the loving, and the Greek.’ He straightened away from the desk. ‘Jeremy was the catalyst, am I right? For someone who knew what to look for last night, it wasn’t difficult to put two and two together. Your absence, Jeremy, then Nikos.’ His expression hardened fractionally. ‘I’ll wring his neck.’
‘Jeremy, or the Greek?’
‘Don’t jest, cara. If there’s a problem, I want to know about it.’ He waited a beat. ‘We’re more than just business partners, we’re friends.’
She spent a major part of her waking hours at the Gallery. Emilio deserved to be on the alert if Jeremy continued to prove a nuisance.
‘Nikos insists I file a restraining order.’
Emilio’s eyes sharpened. ‘Give,’ he uttered in succinct command.
‘Last night was the third—’ Assault? She settled for ‘—attack, in seventy-two hours.’
‘Son of a bitch!’ The words were uttered with such silky softness, it sent a shiver down her back. ‘He won’t get a foot inside the Gallery. Your apartment is secure.’ His expression became ruthlessly hard. ‘Don’t go anywhere alone. Comprende?’
‘I just love it when you lapse into Italian,’ Michelle teased at his protective stance.
‘I’m serious.’
She tilted her head to one side, her eyes solemn. ‘I’m a big girl. And capable of defending myself, remember?’
She was good, he visited the same dojo and had witnessed a few of her training sessions. However, expertise in formal surroundings was a different kettle of fish to the reality of an unexpected attack with brutal intent in a dark deserted street.
‘Stand up,’ he instructed quietly. ‘Turn with your back to me.’
‘Emilio—’
‘Do it, cara.’
‘This really is unnecessary,’ she protested, and caught his faint smile.
‘Indulge me.’
The electronic buzzer attached to the main door sounded, heralding entrance of a customer, and Emilio spared a quick glance in the overhead monitor.
‘Nikos.’
It was twelve-fifteen already? She should go powder her nose and ensure her hair was OK.
‘We’ll continue this later.’
‘What will you continue later?’ Nikos drawled from the open doorway.
His tall frame almost filled the aperture, and Michelle was positive the room seemed to shrink in size. He looked the epitome of an urbane sophisticate attired in impeccably cut trousers, a dark blue shirt unbuttoned at the neck and a jacket hooked casually over one shoulder.
‘A test against a real attack attempt, as opposed to an orchestrated practised manoeuvre,’ Emilio enlightened, meeting Nikos’ steady gaze with one of his own.
‘Michelle has filled you in.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘Yes.’
‘I take it you have no objection if she has an extended lunch hour?’
‘As long as it takes.’
‘I’m moving her into my apartment.’
Michelle thrust the swivel chair forward, and glared from one man to the other. ‘Now, just wait a damn minute.’ She settled on Nikos. ‘Excuse me. You’re doing what?’
‘Moving you temporarily into my apartment,’ he reiterated calmly.
Her eyes flashed emerald fire. ‘The hell you are.’
‘Then I’ll move into yours. Either way, it makes little difference.’
‘It makes plenty of difference!’
‘Then choose.’
‘Just who has granted you the God-given right to take over my life and order me around?’ She was so furious, her body was almost rigid with anger.
‘I did,’ Nikos relayed with deceptive ease. ‘Your apartment, or mine, pedhaki mou?’
‘I am not “your little one”!’
Nikos’ eyes flared. ‘Yes, you are.’
Emilio watched the by-play with interest. Intriguing the sparks that flew between these two. He smiled, despite the gravity of the situation at hand. Unless he was very wrong, Michelle had met her match in the forceful Greek.
‘I’d rather move home.’
Nikos shook his head. ‘Due to your parents’ social commitments, they’re rarely in residence except for a few requisite hours each night, and they don’t have live-in help.’
‘While you,’ she vented with deliberate emphasis, ‘intend to stand guard over me every minute of the day?’
‘And night,’ he added equably, although his tone was deceptive. The eyes had it Inflexible, compelling. Invincible.
‘No.’ She refused to be ordered about like a child.
‘No?’ His voice was pure silk.
‘I’ll book into a hotel.’
‘Where, without independent security, Jeremy could access your room in a minute?’
‘Don’t you think,’ she inclined carefully, ‘you’re getting just a bit carried with all this?’
‘I have your parents’ approval.’
‘That’s a low trick.’
‘They’re just as concerned about your safety as I am.’
She was angry, so angry at the way he was taking control. ‘I don’t doubt that. But I can take care of myself. I don’t need a minder, or a baby-sitter!’
He wanted to take hold of her shoulders and shake her. Instead, he used words to create a similar effect.
‘Jeremy has a history of previous violence. In this instance, it’s been activated by his jealousy of me and what he sees as my involvement with you. Which makes me responsible to a degree.’
He looked at her carefully. ‘What if I hadn’t been there when he accosted you outside the Gallery Sunday night?’ It gave him little pleasure to see her eyes dilate at his implication. ‘Or last night?’ he pursued relentlessly. ‘Was anyone else aware Jeremy might use any opportunity to get you alone? Was there anyone who became alarmed when you didn’t return within a reasonable time?’
He paused, then slid home the final barb. ‘Have you considered what would have happened had I not come in search of you when I did?’
She opened her mouth to refute what he’d said, then closed it again.
‘Jeremy has attacked you three times,’ Emilio stated inexorably. ‘You want to try for four?’
Nikos’ eyes pierced hers, their depths dark and inflexible. ‘Don’t you think you’
re protesting too much... after last night?’
He was too skilled a tactician not to choose his weapons well, she perceived, and silently cursed him for his temerity.
‘Aren’t we late for an appointment?’ she posed stiffly, and heard his drawled response.
‘I’ll ring Paul and let him know we’ve been delayed.’
‘If it’s all right with you,’ Michelle declared with deliberate mockery, ‘I’ll just go powder my nose.’
Nikos Alessandros, she decided, had a lot to answer for. At this very moment her feelings were definitely ambivalent.
Damn, damn, damn. Why was she objecting? The man was a lover to die for. Why not just go with the flow, enjoy the perks, and live for the day?
Last night had been heaven. Was it such a sin to enjoy responsible sex?
Without commitment? And what happens when it ends, as it inevitably will? a small imp taunted. What then? Do you think you’ll be able to walk away, heart-whole, smile, and thank him for the memory?
‘Give me a break,’ she pleaded with the inimical imp, snapped on the lid of her lipstick, then she reentered the office and shot Nikos a dark glance.
Which merely resulted in a raised eyebrow. ‘Ready?’
‘Take your time,’ Emilio bade as Michelle preceded Nikos out onto the mezzanine balcony.
They traversed the short flight of stairs down to the main Gallery.
‘Do what you need to do, and if you don’t make it back by five, I’ll see you at the restaurant at six.’
‘I’ll be back midafternoon,’ she declared firmly, as she leant forward and brushed Emilio’s cheek.
Nikos unlocked the BMW and she slid into the passenger seat, watched as he crossed round to slip in behind the wheel, then she sat in silence as he eased the large car into the flow of traffic heading towards the main highway.
‘You’re very quiet.’
‘I’m saving it all for later,’ she assured, and heard his husky laughter. ‘If you weren’t driving, I’d hit you,’ she said fiercely.
Southport was merely a few kilometres distant, and within five minutes Nikos drove into a client car park adjacent a modern glassed building.
Nikos’ lawyer led her through a series of questions as he compiled a detailed draft statement, informed what a restraining order entailed, perused a sheaf of faxed reports Nikos provided him with, then he advised her as to her personal safety, and requested she call into the office at four that afternoon to sign the statement.
It was one-thirty when they emerged from the building, and within minutes Nikos headed the car towards Main Beach.
‘Where are you going?’ Michelle queried sharply when he turned towards the Sheraton hotel and its adjacent marina shopping complex.
‘Taking you to lunch.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘The seafood buffet should tempt your appetite.’
‘Nikos—’
‘I’ve never known a woman who argues the way you do,’ he drawled with amusement.
‘You,’ she stated heatedly. ‘Are the most domineering man I’ve ever met!’
He eased the BMW into an empty parking space and killed the engine. Then he released his seat belt and leaned towards her.
His mouth settled on hers, hard, as he shaped her jaw to his, and he employed a sensual ravishment that tore her anger to shreds and left her breathless and trembling.
She was incapable of uttering a word, and he brushed a gentle finger over her lower lip.
‘You talk too much.’ He reached for the clip of her seat belt, released it, then he slid out from behind the wheel and led her towards the restaurant.
It was peaceful to sit overlooking the huge pool with its lagoon bar, and the buffet offered a superb selection which proved too tempting for Michelle to resist.
‘Feel better?’ Nikos queried when she declined dessert and settled for coffee.
‘Yes,’ she answered simply.
‘We need to discuss whose apartment we share.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘Yours or mine?’
‘Are you always this dictatorial?’
‘It’s an integral part of my personality.’ The waiter presented the bill, and Nikos signed the credit slip, added a tip, then he drained the last of his coffee. ‘Shall we leave?’
Within minutes Nikos turned the car into the street housing both their apartment buildings, and she opened her mouth to protest when he swept down into the car park beneath his building.
‘Come up with me while I collect some clothes.’
She turned towards him. ‘I don’t like people making decisions for me.’
His expression assumed an inflexibility, accenting the vertical grooves down each cheek, and his mouth settled into a firm line. ‘Get used to it, pedhi mou.’
Michelle rode the lift with him to the uppermost floor. ‘We’re going to have to draw a few ground rules,’ she insisted as she entered his penthouse apartment.
It was beautiful, marble tiled floors, Oriental rugs, imported furniture and exquisite furnishings. Interior decorating at its finest.
‘Make yourself comfortable,’ Nikos bade. ‘I won’t be long.’
There were a few framed photographs positioned on a long mahogany table, and she crossed to examine them. Family, she perceived, noting an elderly couple pictured in one, while the others were presumably siblings with a number of young children.
She knew so little about him, his background. Why, when his family obviously resided in Europe, he chose to spend part of his time in Australia.
Which inevitably led to how long he intended to stay on this particular occasion. Weeks, or a month or two? With business interests on several different continents, he wouldn’t remain in one place for very long at a time.
Nikos returned to the lounge with a garment bag hooked over one shoulder, and a hold-all in his hand.
‘Two sisters,’ he revealed, anticipating her question. ‘Both married. One lives in Athens, the other in London. My parents reside on Santorini.’
‘While you wander the world.’ She could imagine the high-powered existence he led. International flights, board meetings, wheeling and dealing.
‘I have houses in several countries.’
‘And a woman in each city?’
‘I have many women friends,’ he said with dry mockery.
Now why did that suddenly make her feel bereft? Did she really think she was different? Special? Get real, an inner voice mercilessly taunted. You’re simply a momentary diversion.
With determined effort she spared her watch a glance and turned towards the door. ‘Shall we leave?’ She needed some space and time away from him. ‘You can drop me off at the Gallery. I’ll give you a key to my apartment.’
Minutes later he drew the car to a halt outside the Gallery. ‘I’ll pick you up at five.’
She was about to argue, but one look at his implacable expression was sufficient to change her mind, and she refrained from saying a word as she handed him her keys, then she slid out, closed the door, and trod the bricked path to the Gallery’s main entrance without so much as a backward glance.
If Emilio was surprised to see her, he didn’t say so, and she went straight through to the office and booted up the computer.
With determined resolve she set her mind on work, and refused to give Nikos Alessandros a second thought.
Until he appeared with Emilio in the doorway a few minutes after five.
‘Time to close down for the day, cara.’
Michelle saved the data, closed the programme and shut down the machine. Without a word she collected her bag and preceded Nikos out to the car.
It was a bright summer’s evening, the sun was still warm, and she could easily have walked. She wasn’t sure whether it bothered her more that her freedom of choice had been endangered, or that Nikos had nominated himself as her protector.
Or perhaps she was more shaken at the thought of sharing her apartment with him. Last nigh
t... Hell, she didn’t even want to think about last night!
Nikos parked in the bay next to hers, and they rode the lift to the fifteenth floor in silence.
Nikos unlocked her apartment, and she swept in ahead of him.
‘Fix yourself a drink if you want one,’ Michelle suggested politely as she tossed her bag down onto the coffee table. ‘I’m going to shower and change.’
She entered her bedroom and went straight to the walk-in wardrobe. If he’d dared invade her space by hanging his clothes here...
He hadn’t, and she told herself she was glad as she entered the shower.
Half an hour later she caught up an evening purse and paused in front of the cheval mirror to briefly examine her appearance.
The emerald-coloured evening pantsuit complemented her slim frame and highlighted her eyes. Minimum jewellery and an upswept hairstyle presented an essential sophisticated image, given that Saska would undoubtedly appear at her stunning best.
Michelle took a deep breath, released it, then joined Nikos in the lounge.
His appraisal was swift, encompassing, and caused a shivery sensation to scud across the surface of her skin.
She offered him a brilliant smile. ‘Do you think Saska will be impressed?’
He didn’t offer a word as he crossed the short distance to her side, and her eyes widened as he cradled her face, then settled his mouth on hers in passionate possession.
When he lifted his head she wasn’t capable of saying so much as a word.
‘Better,’ he drawled. He touched the pad of one finger to her lips. ‘Lipstick repair.’ The edge of his mouth curved. ‘Although personally, I prefer the natural look.’
‘Don’t overdo the play-acting,’ she managed evenly. ‘I doubt Saska will be fooled.’
It was just after six when they reached the nominated restaurant, and within minutes Emilio and Saska joined them in the lounge bar.
As Michelle predicted, Saska could have stepped from one of the fashion pages of Vogue. In classic black, the style was deceptively demure...a total contradiction when Saska removed the fitted bolero top to reveal the dress was virtually strapless, with a thin shoestring strap over each shoulder.
‘It’s a little warm in here, don’t you think?’
Oh my. Were those generous curves for real? They just begged to be shaped and caressed by a man’s hand.
The Helen Bianchin Collection Page 118
