The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  ‘Yes,’ she answered bravely. The loss of his touch made her feel cold, bereft, as she slowly turned to face him. Self-preservation caused her to move back a pace.

  ‘I don’t see the necessity for me to move into your penthouse. Removing myself to Sydney for the weekend is tantamount to running away. You’re not responsible for me. What has happened with Jeremy would have happened anyway.’ It came out sounding wrong, and Nikos used it to his advantage.

  ‘You’re saying you want to stay here alone,’ he began with chilling softness. ‘And risk having Jeremy utilise devious means and front up to your door? Or maybe lay in wait in the underground car park for the time you return home alone?’

  His words evoked stark images from which she mentally withdrew. ‘Suffer probable trauma as well as possible injuries? For what reason? Simply to prove you can protect yourself from an emotionally unbalanced young man with a history of previous attacks?’

  Put like that, it sounded crazy. But what about her emotions? With each passing day she became more tightly bound to him on every level. What had begun as an amusing conspiracy was now way out of hand.

  ‘You expect me to go to Sydney for the weekend, and spend every waking moment worrying if you’re all right? Forget it.’

  ‘Dammit. Why should it matter to you?’

  His eyes hardened to a bleak grey. ‘It matters.’

  It was too much. He was too much. Without a word she crossed the lounge and entered her bedroom.

  She closed the door, and wished fervently it held a lock and key. Although it would hardly prove an impenetrable barrier, for he possessed the brute strength to break the door down if he was so inclined.

  With hands that shook she released the zip fastening at the back of her dress and slipped out of it. Next came her shoes, and she gathered up a cotton nightshirt and slipped it over her head.

  It took only minutes to remove her make-up and brush her teeth, then she slid in between the sheets, snapped off the light to lay staring into the darkness.

  Michelle had little knowledge of the passage of time as thoughts meshed with dreamlike images, and it was only when she stirred into wakefulness that she realised she must have fallen asleep.

  She moved restlessly, and her hand encountered warm male flesh, hard bone and muscle. Her body went rigid with shock.

  ‘Nikos?’

  ‘Who else were you expecting, melle mou?’ He brought her close and lowered his mouth to nuzzle the sweet hollows at the base of her throat, then trailed up to capture her mouth in a slow evocative kiss that stole her breath away.

  It would be so easy to lose herself in his embrace, and she told herself she needed the warmth of his touch, the feel of him deep inside, and the mutual joy of lovemaking. At this precise moment she refused to label what they shared as sex.

  Tomorrow she’d deal with when it dawned. But for now there was only the man and the wild sweet heat of his loving.

  And the passion. Mesmeric, provocative, ravaging, until she went up in flames and took him with her.

  Michelle rose early the next morning, then showered and dressed, she gathered together a selection of clothing suitable for a weekend in Sydney, added personal items and make-up, and packed them into a bag.

  She’d considering making a final protest about the need to move into Nikos’ penthouse, then dismissed it before she uttered a word. One look at his compelling features was sufficient to convince her that he intended to win any verbal battle she might choose to initiate.

  ‘Leave your car here,’ Nikos instructed as he stowed her bags in the boot of the BMW. The larger bag was destined to be deposited in the penthouse. ‘I’ll pick you up from the Gallery at ten.’

  ‘OK.’

  He shot her a musing glance. ‘Such docility.’

  ‘It’s your forceful personality,’ she assured sweetly. ‘It has a cowering effect.’

  His laughter was soft, husky, and sent renewed sensation spiralling through her body as she slid into the car beside him.

  ‘No,’ he mocked. ‘It doesn’t.’ He fired the engine and sent the car up the ramp and onto the road.

  It was at her insistence she spend an hour at the Gallery to dispense with some of the paperwork, rather than linger in her own or Nikos’ apartment.

  It was after midday when their flight touched down in Sydney, and almost one when they registered at an inner city Darling Harbour hotel.

  ‘What do you plan to do this afternoon?’ Nikos queried as he unfastened his garment bag and slotted it into the wardrobe.

  ‘Shop.’ Michelle declared succinctly as she followed his actions.

  ‘I should be back by six. I’ll make dinner reservations for seven.’

  ‘Fine,’ she acknowledged blithely, then gasped as he cradled her face and kissed her. Hard, and all too briefly.

  He trailed gentle fingers along the lower edge of her jaw. ‘I’ll have my mobile if you need to contact me.’ He caught up his suit jacket and pulled it on. ‘Take care.’

  Five minutes later Michelle took the lift down to reception, had the concierge summon a taxi, and she gave instructions to be driven to Double Bay.

  The exclusive suburb was known for its numerous expensive boutiques housed in a delightful mix of modern glass-fronted shops and converted terrace cottages.

  The sun shone, and the gentlest breeze stirred the leaves of magnificent old trees lining the streets.

  Boutique coffee shops and trendy cafés with outdoor seating beneath sun umbrellas created a cosmopolitan influence.

  Michelle pulled down her sunglasses from atop her head and prepared to do some serious shopping.

  Two hours later she took a brief respite and ordered a cappuccino, then fortified, she caught up a selection of brightly emblazoned carry-bags and wandered through the Ritz-Carlton shopping arcade, paused to admire a display of imported shoes, fell in love with a pair of stilettos and after declaring them a perfect fit, she added them to her purchases.

  It was after five-thirty when a taxi deposited her at the door of the hotel, and on entering their suite she took pleasure in examining the contents of numerous bags before storing them in the wardrobe.

  With quick movements she gathered fresh underwear and a wrap, then escaped into the adjoining bathroom.

  Nikos found her there, in a cloud of steam, her body slick with water, so completely caught up with her ablutions that she didn’t even hear him enter.

  The first Michelle knew of his presence was the buzz of his electric shaver, followed minutes later by the rap of his knuckles against the glass door as he slid the door open and stepped in beside her.

  ‘Communal bathing, hmm?’ she teased, loving the feel of his hands on her waist. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve nearly finished.’

  ‘No, you haven’t.’ He slid his hands up over her ribcage and cupped each breast.

  His fingers conducted an erotic teasing of each sensitive peak, and she felt desire arrow through her body.

  ‘No?’

  He didn’t answer. He merely reached forward and closed the water dial, and she was incapable of saying another word as his mouth touched her own, teased, tasted, nibbled, then hardened with possessive masterfulness.

  His tongue laved hers, and encouraged participation in an erotic dance that eventually became an imitation of the sexual act itself.

  She wasn’t conscious of leaning into him, or lifting her hands to hold fast his head. There was only the need to meet and match his passion until the heat began to dissipate.

  Her skin was acutely sensitive to his slightest touch as he trailed gentle fingers back and forth across each collarbone, then slowly traversed to the slopes of her breasts.

  His lips found the sweet hollow at the edge of her neck, and nuzzled. One hand splayed low over her abdomen, and caressed her hip, her buttock, then teased the soft curling hair at the apex between her thighs.

  Michelle felt as if she was dying. A very slow erotic and incredibly evocative death as he b
rought her close to orgasm with tactile skill. Unbidden, her neck arched and a soft almost tortured moan escaped her throat as her feminine core radiated heat and ignited into sensual frame.

  It was almost more than she could bear, and she cried out as he lifted her up against him. With one easy movement she linked her arms around his neck and wound her legs over his hips, glorying in the feel of him, the surging power, his strength.

  Pagan, electrifying, primeval.

  Michelle sensed the moment he let go, the slight shudder that shook his body, then the stillness, and she kissed him with such exquisite gentleness her eyes ached from unshed tears.

  With infinite care they indulged in a long after-play, the light brush of fingers over sensitised skin, kisses as soft as the touch of a butterfly’s wing.

  She touched his face with the pads of her fingers, and slowly traced the strong bone structure with the care of someone who needed to commit his features to memory.

  The firm eyebrows, broad forehead, the slightly prominent cheekbones and the wide firm jaw-line. She explored his lips, the clean curves, the firm flesh that could wreak such havoc at will.

  Then she gave a soft yelp as he drew the tip of her finger into his mouth and gently nipped it.

  Without a word he reached forward and turned on the water dial, set it at warm, then palmed the soap and began to smooth it over her body.

  When he finished, she took it from his extended hand and returned the favour.

  ‘Food,’ Michelle inclined in a voice that shook slightly as he closed the water dial.

  Nikos’ eyes gleamed dark and his lips parted to form a musing smile. ‘Hungry?’ He leant forward and extracted a towel, draped it over her shoulders, then collected another and wound it round his hips.

  ‘Ravenous.’

  ‘Now wouldn’t be a good time to tell you I’ve put our reservation back to eight.’ He lifted a hand and smoothed a damp tendril of hair behind her ear. ‘Or that we’re joining three of my associates and their partners for dinner.’

  She reached up and kissed his chin. ‘I forgive you.’

  ‘Do you, indeed?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Her eyes sparkled with devilish humour. ‘I bought a new dress to wear tonight. And shoes.’ She began to laugh. ‘You get to see what I’m not wearing beneath it.’ She wrinkled her nose at him. ‘And suffer,’ she added in an impish drawl.

  ‘We can always leave early.’

  He watched beneath hooded eyes as she went through the deodorant and powder routine, then she stepped into lacy thong bikini briefs, and his loins stirred into damnably new life.

  She activated the hair dryer and brushed the damp curling length until it bounced thick and dry about her shoulders, then she began applying make-up.

  If he stayed any longer, they wouldn’t make it out of the suite, he perceived wryly. And for all that the evening was social, the prime criterion was business.

  With that in mind he walked into the bedroom and began to dress.

  When Michelle emerged from the bathroom all he had to do was fasten his tie and don his jacket

  She crossed to the wardrobe, extracted the dress, then stepped into it and turned her back to him.

  ‘Would you mind?’

  He moved forward and slid the long fastener closed over her bare skin. Minuscule briefs, no bra. Throughout the course of the evening he was going to go crazy every time he looked at her.

  Michelle swung round to face him. ‘What do you think?’

  The cream silky sheath with an overlay of lace fell to just above her knees. Its scooped neckline was saved from indecency by a swathe of lace, and a single shoestring strap extended over each shoulder. Very high stiletto-heeled shoes in matching cream completed the outfit.

  ‘You were right,’ he drawled with an edge of mockery, and she laughed, a soft throaty sound that was deliciously sexy.

  ‘It works both ways,’ she assured with sparkling humour, and spared him an encompassing look.

  Dark tailored trousers, blue shirt, navy silk tie, hand-stitched shoes. Expensive, exclusive labels that showed in the cloth and the cut. But it was more than that, she perceived a trifle wryly. The man wore them well, but it was the man himself who attracted attention. His height, breadth of shoulder, tapered waist, slim hips and long muscular legs would intrigue most women to, wonder or discover if the physique matched up to the promised reality. Michelle could assure that it did.

  He pulled on his suit jacket and extended a hand. ‘Let’s go.’

  They took a taxi, got held up in traffic, arrived late, and opted to go straight to the table rather than linger at the bar.

  In retrospect it proved to be a pleasant evening. Beneath the social niceties, it was clear that a deal had been struck and cemented during the afternoon. In Nikos’ favour, Michelle perceived.

  She found it intriguing to witness him in the executive role. He was a skilled tactician. His strategy was hard-edged, and she was reminded of the iron fist in a velvet glove analogy.

  Tenacity, integrity. He possessed them both. His associates admired those qualities and lauded him for them. They also coveted his success.

  It was after eleven when the bill was settled and they converged briefly outside the entrance.

  Nikos went to hail a taxi, only to pause when Michelle caught hold of his hand.

  ‘Our hotel is just across the causeway,’ she indicated, pointing it out. There were people enjoying the warm summer evening. ‘It’s a beautiful night Why don’t we walk?’

  Nikos cast her a wry glance. ‘In those heels?’

  ‘They’re comfortable,’ she assured. ‘Besides, after that sumptuous meal we need the exercise.’

  ‘I think I prefer a ten-minute taxi ride to a ten-minute walk.’

  Her laughter was infectious. ‘Conserving energy, huh?’

  ‘Something like that.’ His drawl held musing mockery.

  ‘And I thought you were at the peak of physical fitness,’ she teased unmercifully, and laughed at his answering growl. ‘We walk?’

  It took fifteen minutes because they paused midway to admire the city-scape. Myriad lights reflected in the dappled surface of the water, gunmetal in colour beneath the night sky. The air was fresh, tinged with the tang of the sea, and she felt the warmth of his arm as it curved along the back of her waist.

  There was a part of her that wished this was real. That the sexual chemistry they shared was more, much more than libidinous passion.

  How could you care deeply for someone in the space of a week? More than care, a tiny voice prompted. With each passing day she found it more difficult to separate the fantasy and the reality.

  How much was pretense? Could a man kiss a woman so deeply, and not care? Make love with her so beautifully, and feel nothing more than sexual gratification?

  And even if there is affection, is that all it would be?

  Worse, when this is all over, what then?

  What do you want? A convenient relationship for as long as it lasts? Then heartache? Don’t kid yourself, she silently derided. Nikos doesn’t want the forever kind, with a marriage certificate and children. Nor do you. Or at least, you didn’t think you did until now.

  Her life had been good until Nikos Alessandros walked into it. She’d been satisfied with the status quo. Content to run the Gallery jointly with Emilio. Happy in her own apartment, and with her social life.

  Now, it didn’t seem to mean as much.

  Apprehension seeded and took root. How could she bear to live without him?

  ‘Shall we continue?’

  Michelle brought her attention back to the present and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. ‘Yes, let’s go back.’

  There was a sadness in the depths of her heart as they undressed each other and made love in the late hours of the night.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘DO YOU want to go down to breakfast, or shall we order in?’

  ‘The restaurant,’ Michelle said at once. ‘Staying in
could prove dangerous.’

  ‘For whom, melle mou?’

  ‘I might ravish you,’ she teased mercilessly, and heard his soft mocking laughter.

  ‘I tremble at the mere thought.’

  ‘Well you might,’ she threatened as she slipped from the bed, aware that he followed her actions.

  ‘Today you have plans, hmm?’

  Nikos sounded amused, and she picked up a pillow and threw it at him, then watched in fascination as he neatly fielded it. ‘If you don’t want to play, pedhaki mou,’ he drawled, ‘I suggest you go shower and dress.’

  She escaped, only because he let her, and reemerged into the bedroom to quickly don elegantly tailored trousers and a deep emerald singlet top.

  Nikos followed her actions, and after a superb breakfast they spent almost two hours in the Aquarium viewing the many varieties of fish displayed in numerous tanks before walking across the causeway to Darling Harbour to explore the many shops.

  It was a beautiful summer’s day, the sun shone, there was just the barest drift of cloud, and a gentle breeze to temper the heat.

  They had lunch at a delightful restaurant overlooking the water, then they boarded a large superbly appointed catamaran for a cruise of Sydney harbour.

  Mansions built on the many sloping cliff-faces commanded splendid city views, and the cruise director pointed out a few of the exceptionally notable residences nestling between trees and foliage.

  Coves and inlets provided picturesque scenery, and there were craft of every size and description moored close to shore.

  Sydney was famous for its Opera House, a brilliant architectural masterpiece instantly recognisable throughout the world, and its Harbour Bridge.

  Of all the cities she’d visited, this one represented home in a vast continent with so many varying facets in its terrain. It tugged a special chord in the heart that had everything to do with the country of one’s birth, patriotism and pride.

  Nikos rarely moved from her side, and he appeared relaxed and at ease. The suit had been replaced by tailored trousers and a casual polo shirt which emphasised his breadth of shoulder, the strong muscle structure of his chest.