The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  They explored the upmarket shopping complex, then wandered to the wharf market where fresh seafood was sold direct from the fish trawlers.

  Anneke examined the prawns, the many varieties of crustaceans. They looked succulent, mouthwatering. ‘I promised you dinner.’ She shot him a teasing grin. ‘Are you willing to trust me?’

  ‘You want to take some of these home?’

  ‘I’m buying,’ she insisted as he extracted his wallet. ‘I mean it,’ she said fiercely.

  He lifted both hands in the air. ‘OK.’

  She chose carefully, with the expertise of a market haggler, selecting, rejecting, until she was satisfied she had the best of the best.

  ‘Let’s get this into the cooler and head home.’ Her mind was already busy with the preparation she needed to make, the time factor, a mental rundown of salad makings in the refrigerator.

  It was almost seven when they reached the cottage. ‘Give me an hour,’ Anneke said as she extracted the seafood from the cooler. That would give her time to shower and change, and have the food ready on the table.

  ‘I’ll bring the wine.’

  She managed it with five minutes to spare, and spent four of those minutes wondering if she should change blue jeans for black dress jeans, add blusher and eyeshadow or just stick with lipstick. Perfume?

  A knock at the door precluded the necessity for either, and she crossed the kitchen and let him in.

  Sebastian took the bottle of chilled white wine to the servery. ‘Shall I open this?’

  Anneke handed him the corkscrew. ‘Please.’

  He’d showered, shaved and changed into casual dark trousers and a pale blue shirt. Aunt Vivienne’s kitchen wasn’t large, and he seemed to fill it.

  She extracted two glasses and set them on the table as he eased the cork out from the neck of the bottle.

  ‘Anything I can do to help?’

  ‘It’s all done.’ Did she sound as nervous as she felt?

  He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his own, taking advantage of her surprise by bestowing an erotic tasting. He lingered a few seconds, then lifted his head.

  She looked…momentarily startled, and her slight confusion pleased him. ‘Shall we eat?’

  Oysters mornay, chilli prawns, and crustaceans in their shells, split in half and the flesh coated with a delicate sauce and grilled. Fresh salad greens, and a baguette she’d heated to crunchy perfection in the oven.

  ‘Magnificent,’ Sebastian declared, with the pleasure of a man who had eaten well. ‘More wine?’

  ‘No,’ Anneke refused quickly, and earned a slight smile.

  ‘The need for a clear head?’

  She didn’t answer, didn’t dare. ‘I’ll make coffee.’

  Her movements were mechanical as she set up the coffee-maker, and when she turned to open the cupboard he was right there.

  ‘Sebastian—’ His lips settled over the vulnerable hollow at the edge of her neck, and she lost track of whatever it was she’d intended to say.

  His mouth was warm, his tongue an erotic instrument as he teased the pulsing cord, savoured it, then used the edge of his teeth to take delicate nips from the sensitive hollows.

  She made one last-ditch effort at protest, only to have it die in her throat as he turned her fully into his arms and covered her mouth with his own.

  One hand lifted to cup her nape while the other slid down her back and pressed her close against him.

  His arousal was a potent force, and she felt her bones begin to melt as liquid fire coursed through her veins. Each sensory nerve-end was heightened to acute awareness, and her body leaned in close to his as he deepened the kiss to an imitation of the sexual act itself.

  Anneke wanted to feel his flesh, taste him in a tactile exploration that would drive him wild. Her fingers slid to the opening of his shirt, freed each button, then she trailed butterfly kisses across his chest, tangled her tongue in the whorls of hair, took possession of one male nipple, and suckled.

  His body shuddered, then tautened as firm hands clasped hold of her waist, and it was she who cried out as he lifted her onto the servery, then parted her thighs and positioned himself between them.

  His eyes were dark and impossibly slumberous as he tugged her top free from her jeans, then pulled it over her head. The bra clip slipped open with ease, and he slid the straps down her arms and dispensed with the scrap of silk and lace.

  Then he buried his face in the valley between her breasts and caressed the soft curves, tormented and teased each roseate peak, then trailed a path down to her navel.

  Her jeans were a barrier he dispensed with with ease, tugging them free and dropping them onto the floor.

  He kissed her, gently at first, then with an increasingly demanding possession, and when he at last lifted his head she could only look at him in shaken silence.

  Sebastian didn’t have to ask. The unspoken question was apparent in his stance, the liquid darkness of his eyes, the curve of his mouth.

  A slight shudder ran through her body. If she turned away now, she’d never know his touch. And she wanted to, badly.

  Not just the physical. She wanted more, much more than that. His heart, his soul. Everything.

  Maybe, just maybe, she should take the gamble and run with it. Let emotions take her wherever he led.

  A week could be a lifetime. And better to experience a week of heaven than never to experience it at all.

  Slowly she reached out and slid her fingers to his nape, where a clip fastened the leather strip that bound his hair. Her eyes never left his as she slipped it free. Then she forked her fingers through the silken river of black, and spread it out so that it flowed onto his shoulders.

  It gave him a rakish look that was pure pagan, primitive, and it was a gesture she’d wanted to make ever since she’d first stepped into this kitchen and found him making tea.

  His smile was slow and infinitely sensual as he copied her actions, releasing the thin elastic band at the base of her plait, then threading his fingers through the length of her hair.

  It was the expression in his eyes that made her catch her breath and caused her pulse to quicken to a much faster beat.

  ‘I think,’ she said shakily, ‘you’d better take me out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.’

  He played the game, teasing her gently. ‘You think so?’

  ‘Otherwise I may never be able to cook or serve food in here again.’

  Sebastian laughed. A deep, husky sound that curled into the recesses of her heart. ‘Put your arms round my neck.’

  Anneke did as she was told, and he kissed her long and deep, then he carried her through to the bedroom, switched on the light, and let her slide down to her feet.

  In one easy movement he sought the pocket of his jeans, extracted a slim foil square and slipped it beneath one pillow.

  Mesmerised, she stood still as he popped the studs on his jeans, then shucked them off. The thin covering of black silk sheathing his manhood followed, and her eyes widened at the sight of him.

  His was a savage beauty. Primal, powerful. A man who could show great strength, even cruelty. Yet there was a tenderness apparent, an acute caring for those who were sufficiently fortunate to win his trust, his love.

  Sebastian reached for her, pulling her in close as he tumbled them both down onto the bed. He was hungry for her, wanting, needing to sheath himself in the silken sweetness of woman. Not just any woman. This woman.

  He needed to show her the difference. Knew, hoped, that she would know.

  Anneke let her fingers splay over taut muscles at his shoulders, trailed them to explore his ribcage, then slid down over his flanks to urge him close.

  ‘Non, mon ange. We are just beginning.’

  He took pleasure in the tasting of her skin, every inch of it, with the pads of his fingers, his lips. And felt her pulse quicken, her breath become erratic and fast.

  Her body began to feel like the strings of a finely tuned violin, his touch
creating magic that reverberated along each nerve fibre until her whole being sang to a tune that had never been played.

  The feeling was so intense she could hardly bear it, and her hands became more urgent as she began to plead with him to ease the ache deep within.

  He soothed her as she arched against him, caressing the moist heat with a touch that brought her to one explosive climax after another.

  It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, and she became a wild wanton in his arms, pliant, bewitching, his.

  He entered her slowly, allowing the silken tissues to stretch to accommodate him, then he drove forward with one powerful thrust.

  Anneke gasped at the level of penetration, absorbed it, then met and matched his rhythm, unable to prevent the soft guttural cries that escaped her lips as he took her higher and higher to the brink, held her there, then caught her when she fell. And kissed the light tears as they trickled from her eyes.

  Sebastian curled her close in the circle of his arms, and she dozed for a while, then stirred at the movement of a hand sliding low over one hip.

  He was asleep. His breathing hadn’t changed. She began a slow, tactile exploration of her own, skimming over warm skin, strong muscle and sinew to his pelvis, lightly examining the faint hollow, the keloid puckering of a surgical scar.

  She let her fingers trail up over his ribcage to the dark smattering of hair on his chest. Hair that was light and springy, and different in texture from the glossy length he wore bound at his nape.

  More than anything she wanted to explore the angles and planes of his sculpted features, the chiselled cheekbones, the hard jaw, the sensitive lines of his mouth.

  Most of all she wanted to wake him. To feel again the power of his body as he joined it with hers. The acutely intense spiral of sensation that mixed pleasure with pain, then transcended both to rapturous ecstasy.

  He’d shown her remarkable tendresse. Now she wanted his passion, unbridled, shameless and primitive.

  A hand reached for hers, caught it, and brought it to his lips. Her heart almost stopped, then quickened to a faster beat as she raised her head and met a pair of dark eyes lambent with molten desire.

  ‘You’re awake.’

  Without a word he kissed each finger in turn, savoured her palm, then grazed the fragile veins at her wrist.

  One slight tug, and she lay sprawled across his chest.

  She gained purchase on his shoulders and leant forward to kiss him, loving the feeling of power as he let her take control.

  The sensual tasting tested his strength, and just when he thought he could stand it no longer she slid down onto him. Her movements were deliberately slow as she completed one erotic circle after another until it drove him wild. His hands bit into her waist, then splayed over her hips, holding her still as he drove into her again and again, until it was she who cried out, and their voices mingled in a mutual expression of wild, untamed passion.

  Afterwards, when the spiralling subsided and their breathing returned to normal, he pulled her close and held her there.

  Her hair was a mass of tangles from where he’d raked his hands through its length, and he soothed it gently, feeling its texture, the long silken strands that fell in a cloud over her shoulders.

  He kissed her, long and deep, then he buried his mouth in the soft hollow of her neck as she slept.

  Again and again they turned to each other in the night. As the light fingers of dawn filtered through the windows they rose from the bed and showered, only to return to bed to sleep until the shrill peal of the phone sounded loud in the morning stillness.

  Sebastian kissed her briefly as she lifted her head and groaned. ‘You’d better answer it, mon amie.’

  Who could be ringing at this hour? She spared a glance at the bedside clock, and jolted upright. My God, midday!

  She scrambled out of bed, grabbed the sheet and wrapped it round her naked form, then stumbled as the tucked-in portion stubbornly refused to part from the mattress.

  Sebastian chuckled as she swore, and leaned forward to wrench it free.

  Anneke raced into the kitchen, lifted the receiver and heard her aunt’s anxious tones on the other end of the line.

  Thinking quickly on her feet after a long night of loving and very little sleep was difficult. ‘I was in the shower.’ A necessary untruth, and she shivered as she felt Sebastian’s lips nuzzle her neck. When his hands unbound the sheet, there was little she could do except shake her head at him in silent remonstrance.

  ‘Is everything all right, darling?’ Aunt Vivienne queried. ‘You sound a little…strange.’

  His lips sought her breasts, savoured the swollen peaks, then bit gently into the tender softness.

  On a strangled note she ended the call, replaced the receiver, then allowed herself to be pulled into his arms.

  ‘You’re insatiable,’ Anneke said unsteadily as his teeth nipped an earlobe.

  ‘In a minute, I’m going to collect my clothes, go home, and spend what’s left of the day at the computer.’ His lips trailed to her temple, caressed the fast-beating pulse there, then travelled down to the edge of her mouth. ‘I have a deadline to meet before I leave for Paris.’

  She turned her mouth to meet his, and wondered if she’d ever be able to survive after he left. ‘I’ll bring dinner.’

  ‘And stay.’

  ‘Sebastian—’

  ‘Stay, Anneke,’ he repeated insistently. ‘My bed, or yours. It doesn’t matter.’

  No, it didn’t. To deny him was to deny herself.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE days ran into each other, each one seeming more poignant than the last.

  Sebastian rescheduled his work pattern from mid-morning to seven in the evening. Dinner was extended by an hour, and the nights were something else as their lovemaking took on a new dimension.

  Anneke told herself she was happy, happier than she’d ever been. And she was. Except the dawn of each new day brought her one day closer to the time she’d have to bid Sebastian goodbye.

  Wednesday they drove into Byron Bay township and consigned Sebastian’s manuscript to his American agent via courier. Then they celebrated with champagne and dinner at the town’s finest restaurant.

  ‘Tomorrow we’ll fly down to Sydney.’

  Anneke heard the words, but didn’t absorb them. ‘What did you say?’

  Sebastian’s smile held a combination of humour and sensual warmth as he repeated the words.

  Her heart flipped, then raced to a painful beat. ‘We?’

  ‘We,’ he gently mocked. ‘That will give you time to gather some clothes together, do any necessary shopping, and pack.’

  ‘Pack?’

  ‘You’re coming with me to Paris.’

  Her mind whirled at the implication, and her stomach began to compete with the erratic beat of her heart. ‘What about a passport, visa—’

  ‘Your passport is valid.’ His eyes gleamed with humour as her mouth opened, then shut again. ‘Vivienne,’ he revealed succinctly.

  ‘You’ve spoken to Aunt Vivienne?’

  ‘I needed to check on your passport, make arrangements for both cottages, Shaef.’ He paused for a second. ‘And tell her you wouldn’t be spending Christmas with her in Cairns.’

  Christmas. She’d need to get gifts for his family; she couldn’t possibly go empty-handed…

  A strangled laugh rose and died in her throat with the realisation she didn’t know any details at all, with the exception of his grandmother.

  Sebastian caught each fleeting expression and accurately defined every one of them. He reached across the table and caught hold of her hand. ‘It’ll be fine,’ he reassured her. ‘Trust me.’

  They arrived in Paris mid-morning on a cold, wet, typically grey mid-winter day, tired after a long international flight.

  Sebastian collected their hire car, and drove to the gracious old home on Ile Saint-Louis where his grandmother had resided since the day she was born.

  A very beautifu
l home, with exquisite carpets, antique furniture, and objets d’art worth a small fortune.

  Anneke wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Certainly it hadn’t been a very stylish and sprightly woman who could easily pass for fifteen years younger than her eighty years, and whose command of the English language was more than impressive.

  ‘Your rooms are ready. I know you must want to shower, then change and rest.’

  ‘Room, Grandmère,’ Sebastian corrected. ‘We share.’

  ‘So.’

  Anneke couldn’t imagine such a little word could convey such meaning.

  ‘Are you not going to introduce me to this young woman you have brought to meet me?’

  ‘Grandmère…Anneke Sorrel.’ His arm remained at Anneke’s waist. ‘Anneke…my grandmother, Madeleine Lanier.’

  ‘Come here and let me look at you.’

  ‘You will frighten her,’ Sebastian declared with amusement.

  ‘Indeed.’ Madeleine Lanier drew herself up to her full height and glared at her grandson. ‘I frighten no one. And if she belongs to you, she belongs to this family.’

  A faint smile teased Anneke’s lips. ‘So you get to pass judgement.’

  ‘She speaks.’ Madeleine placed a hand to her heart.

  ‘Indeed she does.’ Sebastian leaned forward and gently brushed first one paper-thin cheek, then the other. ‘And be warned, she also speaks passable French.’

  ‘I think,’ Madeleine declared, ‘we should go into the conservatory and take coffee.’

  ‘Tea,’ Anneke said gently. ‘Earl Grey, if you have it.’

  ‘Has a mind of her own, hmm?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Good. I could not have borne it if Sebastian had brought me an airhead with designs on his money.’

  ‘I do not think Sebastian would have dared do such a thing.’

  That earned a quick glance from sharp brown eyes, and the beginnings of a musing smile. ‘He has dared many things in his short lifetime. But crossing me is not one of them.’ She moved forward and batted her grandson’s arm away from Anneke’s waist. ‘Let her go. We shall get along very well, she and I.’