The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  His silence was ominous, filling the room until she felt like screaming for him to break it.

  When he did, she almost wished he hadn’t, for his voice was so quiet it turned the blood in her veins to ice.

  ‘What happened?’ No preamble, just a chilling demand that brooked no evasion.

  Was she so transparent that he had only to take one look? she wondered. She fingered the towel, and fixed her attention on the knot of his impeccable silk tie. ‘How was the flight?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter a damn in hell about the flight,’ he dismissed with lethal softness. ‘Tell me.’

  She heard the tension in his voice and was aware there was no easy way to say the words. ‘I stayed back at the office to work on some figures.’

  His eyes never left hers. ‘Why did you do that, when you could easily have brought the disk home?’

  Good question. Why had she? She swallowed, and saw his eyes follow the movement at her throat.

  ‘Someone slipped through car park security.’

  ‘Are you hurt?’ The words held a deadly softness, and a tremor shook her body as his eyes raked every visible inch of her slender frame.

  She lifted a hand then let it fall. ‘A few bruises.’ He’d see evidence of them soon enough.

  ‘Slowly, Gabbi,’ Benedict bit out softly. He reached out a hand and soothed her cheek with his palm. ‘From the beginning. And don’t omit a single detail.’

  His anger was palpable, and she felt afraid. Not for herself. But fearful of what might happen should that anger slip free.

  ‘I unlocked the car door,’ she revealed steadily. ‘Then someone grabbed me from behind and pushed me onto the rear seat.’

  ‘Don’t stop there.’ His voice sounded like the swish of a whip, and she flinched as if its tip had flayed her skin.

  ‘He climbed in after me.’

  A muscle tensed at the edge of his jaw. ‘Did he touch you?’

  She shivered at the memory of those brutal fingers manacling her wrists while he ripped open her blouse.

  ‘Not the way you mean.’

  Benedict’s eyes hardened. ‘You called the police?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing was stolen. The car wasn’t damaged. I wasn’t assaulted.’

  His hands settled on her shoulders and slid gently down her arms. ‘Assault is a multi-faceted term.’ His fingers were incredibly gentle and thorough. Her breath caught when he touched her wrists, and she flinched as he carefully examined first one then the other before raising them to his lips.

  His hands reached for the towel, and she froze, all too aware of several deep pink smudges darkening the paleness of her breasts.

  Naked fury darkened his features, and his hands clenched until the knuckles showed white.

  Gabbi registered dimly that she had wanted to test his control and break it. But never like this.

  ‘I scratched him rather badly,’ she offered in explanation. ‘And he retaliated.’

  There was something primitive in his expression, a stark ruthlessness that frightened her. She needed to diminish it to something approaching civilised restraint ‘His purpose wasn’t to harm me. He. had an accomplice with a camera.’

  Dark, nearly black eyes assumed an almost predatory alertness.

  The shrill sound of the telephone made her jump, and she stared in mesmerised fascination at the bathroom extension.

  ‘Pick it up when I lift the bedroom connection.’

  Each word was a harsh directive she didn’t think to ignore, and she watched, wide-eyed, as Benedict quickly crossed to the bedside pedestal. Her movements synchronised with his, she reached out and lifted the receiver.

  ‘Gabbi Nicols.’

  ‘Gabrielle.’ Her name was a distinctive purr on the line, and Gabbi’s fingers tightened measurably.

  ‘Annaliese,’ she greeted cautiously.

  ‘I have in my possession photos which show you in a state of remarkable déshabillé, mon enfant.’ It was almost possible to see Annaliese’s cruel smile. ‘Copies of them will be despatched to Benedict by courier an hour after his return tomorrow. Together with a file on Tony detailing his career as a professional escort.’ She paused, then added with delicate emphasis, ‘And listing other services he’s only too willing to provide for a price.’

  Gabbi felt sick at the thought of being a victim of so much hatred.

  ‘Lost for words, darling?’

  ‘Speechless.’

  A tinkle of brittle laughter sounded down the line. ‘If you had taken me seriously, it wouldn’t have been necessary to go this far.’

  Gabbi tightened her grip on the receiver. ‘Don’t be surprised if Tony hits you up for danger money. He received a knee in the groin and a few deep scratches.’

  ‘The photographs are worth it. Show a little wisdom and start packing,’ Annaliese suggested with saccharine sweetness.

  ‘Benedict—’

  ‘Will be shocked at the evidence.’

  ‘Yes.’

  There was a momentary silence.

  ‘You can present me with the photos and the file personally, Annaliese,’ Benedict directed in a voice so silk-smooth it sent shivers scudding down the length of Gabbi’s spine. ‘If you’re wise, you’ll be waiting at your front door with them in your hand ten minutes from now. After which you’ll explain to Monique and James that you’ve received an urgent call from your agent demanding your presence elsewhere. So urgent,’ he continued with deadly softness, ‘that you need to board a plane tomorrow. I’ll arrange the airline ticket.

  ‘If you should be sufficiently foolish to set foot in Sydney again I’ll lay charges against you for assault and extortion. And don’t,’ he advised icily, ‘put a warning call through to the infamous Tony. There isn’t a place he can go that I won’t eventually find him. Do we understand each other?’

  Benedict replaced the receiver with such care, Gabbi felt afraid. With numbed fingers she replaced the bathroom receiver onto the wall handset.

  Her eyes were impossibly large as he crossed the room, and she was powerless to utter so much as a word when he lowered his head down to hers and took reverent possession of her mouth.

  ‘I’ll be back.’

  Then he was gone, with a swiftness that made her shiver. Within minutes she heard an engine start up, and the refined purr as the car headed towards the gates. Then silence.

  Gabbi discarded the towel and selected a pair of ivory satin pyjamas. She crossed to the large bed and turned back the covering. Then she sank down onto the stool in front of the mirrored dressing table and picked up her hairbrush.

  It was twenty-five minutes later when Benedict re-entered the bedroom, and her arm slowed to a faltering halt as he moved to her side.

  Her mouth trembled when he removed the brush from her hand.

  ‘Where are they?’ Was that her voice? It sounded so hushed it was almost indistinct.

  ‘I destroyed them,’ Benedict said gently.

  She had to ask. ‘Did you look at them?’

  His hands curved over her shoulders. ‘Yes.’

  Her eyes filled, and she barely kept the tears at bay. ‘I imagine they were—’

  ‘Damning.’

  A muscle contracted in one cheek. ‘Would you have believed—?’

  ‘No.’ He touched a finger to her cheek, then trailed its tip to the corner of her mouth. ‘They were intended to be held against you as blackmail.’ He traced the fullness of her lower lip. ‘What was the price, Gabbi?’

  ‘Me,’ she enlightened him with stark honesty. ‘Out of your life.’

  His hand slid to her throat and caressed the soft hollows at its base.

  ‘You imagined I would let you go?’

  ‘Annaliese was counting on it.’

  His fingers slid to the top button of her pyjama shirt and dealt with it, before slipping down to the next one. The second button slid free, as did the third and last. Gently, he pulled the satin shirt free from her arms.

  Gabbi watched his
eyes darken as they rested on the pink smudges marking each pale globe.

  ‘It’s to be hoped the infamous Tony was well paid. Expert medical care can be expensive.’

  Her mouth opened, then closed again as he brushed it with his own.

  She shivered at the extent of his power. At how quickly he could exert it, and how far it could reach.

  ‘You came home early,’ Gabbi whispered. ‘Why?’

  His lips curved. ‘Because I didn’t want to spend another night away from you.’

  Unbidden, the tears welled up and spilled, trickling down each cheek in twin rivulets. Gentle fingers tilted her chin, and she felt the touch of his mouth as it trailed one cheek, then the other, before he kissed each eyelid in turn.

  ‘Don’t,’ Benedict bade her quietly.

  She wanted to say she loved him. The words hovered near the edge of her lips, but remained unspoken.

  ‘Tomorrow morning we’re flying out to Hawaii.’

  A protest rose to her lips. ‘The office—’

  ‘Can get by without us,’ Benedict assured her as he scooped her into his arms.

  ‘The Gibson deal—’

  ‘James will handle it.’

  ‘Benedict—’

  ‘Shut up,’ he ordered softly as he sank down onto the bed with her cradled on his lap.

  Her pulse leapt then accelerated to a faster beat as his mouth brushed her temple then slid to the sensitive hollow beneath her ear.

  She felt secure. And protected. For now, it was enough.

  Gabbi’s fingers worked the knot on his tie, then slid to the buttons on his shirt. ‘I need to feel your skin next to mine.’

  Benedict placed her carefully against the nest of pillows, then straightened to his feet He didn’t hurry, and she watched every movement as he divested himself of one garment after the other.

  Then he came down onto the bed and pulled her to lie beside him. He propped himself up on an elbow and examined the soft mouth, the blue eyes looking at him with unblinking solemnity.

  ‘Do you want to talk?’

  Gabbi considered the question, then slowly shook her head. Tomorrow, maybe. Tonight she wanted the reassurance of his arms around her, his body intimately joined to hers.

  Lifting a hand, she trailed his cheek with tentative fingers, and her eyes widened fractionally as he caught and carried them to his lips.

  With infinite care he kissed them, one by one, before traversing to the bones at her wrist. Then he released her hand and bent his head to her breast, caressing each bruise with his mouth.

  ‘Benedict.’

  He lifted his head and met her gaze in silent query.

  ‘I need you,’ she said quietly, and saw desire flare in the dark eyes close to her own.

  Her hands lifted to encircle his neck, and her mouth trembled beneath the soft touch of his before the pressure increased.

  His tongue was an invasive entity as it explored the soft tissues, and she felt him tense as he found the abrasions where Tony had briefly ground his mouth against her own, heard the low growl of his anger, and sought to soothe it.

  The slow reverence of his lovemaking made her want to cry, and afterwards she slept in his arms, her head pillowed against his chest.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WAIKIKI BEACH was a glorious sight. Deep blue ocean, white sand, with multi-level high-rise hotels and apartment buildings lining the foreshore.

  There were beaches to equal and surpass it in Australia, and many believed Queensland’s Gold Coast to be comparable to Honolulu.

  The climate was similar, the designer boutiques many and varied, but it was the cosmopolitan population and the friendly Hawaiian people which fascinated Gabbi.

  It wasn’t her first visit nor, she hoped, would it be her last

  Benedict had chosen the Royal Hawaiian hotel, known as the ‘pink palace’ due to its pink-washed exterior. Originally home to Hawaiian royalty, it held an aura of tradition and timelessness, and was unique in comparison to the many modem hotels bordering the foreshore. Crystal chandeliers featured in the foyer, and there was an abundance of luxurious Oriental rose-pink carpets.

  Gracious was a word that sprang to mind, Gabbi decided as she sank into a chair and ordered a virgin piña colada from the hovering drinks waiter.

  Five days of blissful relaxation had done wonders to repair her peace of mind, she mused as she gazed idly out to sea. Careful sunbathing had coloured her skin to a warm honey-gold.

  By tacit agreement, they’d avoided the tourist attractions, choosing instead to commission a limousine with driver for a day to drive round the main island.

  Shopping wasn’t a priority, although she had explored some of the boutiques and made a few purchases.

  ‘Feel like sharing?’

  Gabbi pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head as she turned towards Benedict.

  ‘My piña colada?’ she countered with a teasing smile.

  ‘You’ve been deep in thought for the past five minutes,’ he drawled.

  Gabbi allowed her gaze to wander towards a young woman whose slender, model-proportioned curves were unadorned except for a black thong-bikini brief. Tall, gorgeous and tanned, she seemed intent on spending equal time anointing her firm body with oil and worshipping the sun.

  ‘I was just surveying the scene,’ she said easily.

  ‘And wondering where you’re taking me to dinner.’

  ‘Hungry?’

  For you. Only you. Was it such a sin to want to be with one man so badly? To laugh, pleasure, love him so much that he became the very air that she breathed?

  ‘Yes.’ She winkled her nose at him. ‘I think it must be all the fresh sea air and sunshine.’

  A smile lifted the edges of his mouth. ‘You get to choose.’

  ‘Somewhere exotic, I think.’

  ‘Define “exotic”.’

  ‘Soft lights, dreamy music, exquisitely presented food and—’ she paused, her eyes filling with wicked warmth ‘—black-suited waiters who look as if they’re just waiting to be discovered by some international film-studio executive.’

  His eyelids drooped fractionally, and his expression was deceptively indolent. ‘You have a particular restaurant in mind?’

  A soft bubble of laughter emerged from her throat. ‘Yes. It will be interesting to discover if one particular waiter still works there. He displayed such flair, such panache.’ Her eyes gleamed with irrepressible humour. ‘Definitely sigh material.’

  ‘And did he sigh over you?’

  ‘No more than that attractive, scantily clad brunette is sighing at the sight of you.’ She hadn’t missed the veiled interest or the subtle preening as the slimcurved beauty displayed her perfect body.

  Benedict’s gaze skimmed to the girl in question, assessed and dismissed her, and returned to Gabbi.

  ‘Pleasant to look at.’

  ‘Is that all you have to say?’

  His eyes were dark, slumberous. ‘She’s not you.’

  A flippant response rose to her lips, and died before it could be voiced. ‘Words are easy,’ she managed after a long silence.

  “There’s an axiom about actions speaking louder than words,” he offered, and she held his gaze, suddenly brave.

  ‘Maybe I need both.’

  He leaned forward in his chair and surveyed her expressive features. ‘A verbal attestation of love?’

  Gabbi tried for nonchalance and failed. ‘Only if you mean it.’ She tord her eyes away from his and looked beyond the pink and white striped canopies fronting the terrace to the distant horizon.

  It seemed as if she’d waited ages for this precise moment But now that it had come she wasn’t sure she was ready. The breath seemed locked in her throat, suspending her breathing, and she was oblivious to the people around them, the dull chatter of voices, the soft background music.

  ‘Look at me.’

  It was a softly voiced command she chose not to ignore.

  His features appeared sculpted, th
e gleam of artificial and fading natural light accentuating the strong planes and angles, toning his skin a deeper shade and highlighting the darkness of his hair.

  For one brief second she was reminded of boardroom meetings where a glance from those deep dark eyes could lance a colleague’s façade and reduce him to a quivering, inarticulate fool.

  ‘Love, Gabbi?’ A slow, warm smile lightened his features, and she caught a glimpse of the passion, the desire. And the need. ‘I don’t want to spend a day, a night without you by my side. You’re sunshine and laughter.’ He took hold of her hand and brought her palm to his lips and bestowed an evocative, openmouthed kiss on its centre. ‘Warmth and love. Everything.’

  Heat coursed through her veins, sensitising nerve cells until her whole body was an aching entity demanding his touch.

  The words that had lain imprisoned in her heart for so long seemed hesitant to emerge. She swallowed, and saw that his eyes followed the movement.

  A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘Is it so difficult to reciprocate?’ he queried gently.

  Gabbi looked at him carefully. She hadn’t expected to find vulnerability in any form. Yet it was there, in his eyes. A waiting, watchful quality that allowed her a glimpse of his inner soul.

  There was a sense of wonder in the knowledge that she was probably the only one who would ever be permitted to witness it.

  ‘The first day you entered the boardroom,’ she began quietly, ‘it was the embodiment of every cliché.’ An impish smile curved her mouth. ‘Electric. I don’t remember a word I said. Yet your words stayed engraved in my mind. Every gesture, every smile.’ She reached up and touched the palm of her hand to his jaw. ‘When James invited you to dinner, I think I knew, even then, the idea formulating in his mind. It should have mattered. But it didn’t,’ she said simply.

  Benedict watched the play of emotions in her expressive eyes. They held few secrets from him. Soon they would hold none.

  ‘I fell in love with you. Not Conrad Nicols’ son and heir. If I hadn’t felt like that, I would never have agreed to marriage.’