The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  There was only him, and an acute awareness she was loath to acknowledge.

  ‘Stephanie.’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ she began in a voice edged with cynicism. ‘Our host is a friend of yours.’

  Raoul’s eyes assumed a musing gleam. ‘We attended the same university.’

  ‘Sheer coincidence, of course,’ she continued wryly. ‘That you both happen to be in Australia at the same time. Staying not only in the same state, but the same city.’

  He inclined his head, and moved in close to make room for a guest intent on beckoning the waiter.

  Their bodies almost touched, and she instinctively moved back a pace.

  Had he known she’d be here? ‘I wouldn’t have thought feminine lingerie would interest you.’ She’d meant it to be a cutting remark, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth she realized their implication.

  ‘It depends on the woman,’ he intoned with dry amusement. ‘And whether I’m sufficiently fascinated to want to remove it.’

  The very thought of those clever hands easing a bra strap off a smooth shoulder, fingers skillfully manipulating a clasp, then lingering at the curve of a feminine waist before sliding lacy briefs down over slender hips…

  Stop it. Wayward thoughts and a vivid imagination could only spell trouble.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ Stephanie said firmly, intending to remove herself as far away as possible from this disturbing man.

  ‘No.’

  She looked at him in silent askance, unaware that her eyes deepened in color and assumed a warning sparkle. ‘What do you mean—no?’

  His fingers closed over her elbow. ‘Let me introduce you to Bruno.’

  She shot him a fulminating glare. ‘Get your hand off me.’

  ‘Merde,’ he swore softly. ‘You try my patience.’

  ‘Should I offer to mediate?’ an amused male voice intruded.

  Stephanie turned and came face to face with her host. A man whose eyes held wisdom and astute knowledge.

  ‘Are you not going to introduce me to this young lady?’

  ‘Bruno Farelli,’ Raoul indicated smoothly. ‘Stephanie Sommers.’

  Bruno took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. ‘Stephanie,’ he acknowledged. ‘A pleasure.’ His dark eyes gleamed with latent humor as he indicated Raoul. ‘You do not like this man?’

  ‘He irritates the hell out of me.’

  Bruno’s amusement was barely restrained. ‘Interesting. Women usually fall at his feet.’

  ‘How—’ she paused deliberately, then continued with pseudo sweetness ‘—foolish of them.’

  ‘Raoul must bring you to dinner,’ Bruno drawled. ‘My wife will enjoy your company.’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘Adriana was unable to join me tonight. My daughter did not travel well on the long flight.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Stephanie said with genuine sympathy.

  He regarded her for several long seconds. ‘Yes, I do believe you are,’ he accorded quietly, pausing as his personal assistant drew close and murmured a brief message. Bruno nodded, then cast Stephanie and Raoul an apologetic glance. ‘We will talk later. Now I must say a few words to my guests.’

  The words were practiced, but sincere, and the small surprise was a sneak preview of next season’s new lingerie designs, which three models displayed to perfection. Expertly choreographed, the brief parade provided a tantalizing glimpse of what would appear in the boutique a few months from now.

  It was a masterly stroke, and a successful one, judging by the buzz of voiced approval. Many of the women would purchase to titillate their husbands, whilst some of the men would designate a gift to a mistress, Stephanie deduced with a degree of cynicism.

  ‘Can I get you another drink?’

  Her glass was almost empty, and she surveyed it speculatively, not wanting to offer any encouragement for Raoul to remain at her side. ‘I think I’ll wait for coffee.’

  ‘Which probably won’t be served for another half hour,’ Raoul drawled, and she offered him a witching smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  ‘Then you mustn’t let me keep you.’

  Amusement tinged his expression. ‘A politely veiled directive?’

  ‘However did you guess?’

  He was silent for several seconds, then he ventured with dangerous softness, ‘Did Emma’s father hurt you so badly?’

  She met his gaze with fearless disregard, aware he saw more than she wanted anyone to see. It unsettled her, and attacked the carefully constructed wall she’d erected guarding her emotions.

  A mix of emotions warred with each other as she sought to control them. ‘It’s none of your business,’ she managed to say with equal quietness.

  There was a ruthlessness evident in those compelling features she found disconcerting.

  ‘Does it not occur to you that I might choose to make it my business?’

  ‘And if I choose not to let you?’

  He was silent for several long seconds. ‘Do you think you can stop me?’

  She deliberately raked him from head to toe, and back again. ‘You’d be a fool to even try.’

  ‘I’ve been accorded many things,’ Raoul said with indolent amusement. ‘A fool isn’t one of them.’

  She’d had enough. Enough of this indomitable man, the party, and she wanted nothing more than to leave. Except her boss would undoubtedly frown on her early departure.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she voiced coolly. ‘There are a few business associates I really should speak to.’

  He let her go, watching as she eased her way across the room, pausing to chat momentarily before moving on. She possessed a natural grace, a fluidity of movement that reminded him of a dancer on stage.

  ‘Lovely evening,’ a pleasant feminine voice intruded, and he shifted his attention to the strikingly beautiful young blonde at his side, who, he acknowledged cynically, was aware of every feminine ploy and not averse to using each and every one of them.

  Her conversation was scintillating with just the right degree of sexual promise in the full mouth, the touch of her hand on his arm.

  Yet she didn’t interest him, and all too frequently he found his attention straying to an attractive blue-eyed strawberry blonde who was as intent on fighting the sexual tension between them as he was in pursuing it.

  Stephanie sipped the contents of her glass and fought the temptation to check her watch.

  ‘All alone?’

  Her heart sank a little as she summoned a polite smile.

  ‘Samuel,’ she acknowledged. As an advertising executive, Samuel Stone was almost without equal. As a man, he possessed one fatal flaw: he believed he was God’s gift to women.

  ‘You have moved in exalted circles tonight. The elder Lanier brother, and none other than Bruno Farelli himself paying you attention.’ He moved close and ran an idle finger down the length of her arm. ‘Nice going, darling. I wonder who you’ll choose.’

  ‘Neither.’

  ‘Thus leaving the coast clear for me?’

  Stephanie swept him a cool glance. ‘When are you going to stop playing this wearisome game?’

  His smile held a slightly cruel twist. ‘You’re the one I haven’t caught, Stephanie.’

  ‘You never will,’ she stated dryly.

  ‘Never is a long time, darling, and I’m remarkably persistent.’

  ‘Two years, and you still haven’t got the message.’ She shot him an exasperated look. ‘How many times do I need to spell it out?’

  ‘You do disinterest well.’

  This was becoming tiresome. ‘It’s for real, Samuel.’

  ‘Why don’t I believe you?’

  ‘Because you have a serious ego problem.’ She caught sight of two waiters setting up urns, cups and saucers. Thank heavens!

  ‘Come out with me afterward. We’ll go on to a nightclub, dance a little, get comfortable…’

  ‘No.’ She turned away from him only to have his hand take possession o
f hers. ‘Don’t do this, Samuel,’ she warned in a deadly quiet voice.

  ‘I believe the lady said no,’ a faintly accented voice stated with dangerous silkiness.

  Oh Lord, this was just what she needed. Two men at daggers drawn in a bid for her attention. She should have been flattered. Instead she felt vaguely sickened.

  ‘I was hoping to change her mind,’ Samuel indicated, releasing her hand.

  Raoul’s gaze was intent. ‘I would say your luck just ran out.’

  Samuel inclined his head in an elaborate bow. ‘See you around, Stephanie.’

  Not if I see you first, she vowed silently.

  ‘You work with him?’ Raoul queried when Samuel was out of earshot.

  ‘Liaise,’ Stephanie enlightened. ‘Advertising and marketing go hand-in-hand.’ She drew a deep breath and released it slowly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get some coffee.’

  ‘I’ll join you.’

  She gave him a sharp look, opened her mouth to decline his company, then closed it again.

  ‘Emma has fully recovered?’

  ‘Yes.’ She was conscious of being unobtrusively led toward the table where coffee and tea were being dispensed. ‘Yes, she has.’

  ‘Two coffees. One black, the other white with one sugar,’ Raoul instructed, then with a cup held in each hand he indicated the wide expanse of floor-to-ceiling glass. ‘Let’s go take a look at the view.’

  Darkness had descended, and the many high-rise buildings appeared as brightly lit towers set against an inky sky. There were boats anchored in the vast marina, and the water resembled dark satin ribboned by the reflection of an ascending moon.

  Stephanie stood in silence and sipped her coffee, increasingly aware of Raoul’s close proximity as she focused on the immediately adjoining restaurant complex. Patrons enjoying their meal were partly visible, and there were couples, families, strolling along the boardwalk, pausing from time to time to admire some of the large cabin cruisers moored side by side.

  It was a peaceful sight, with the sound of music providing a background to the chatter and laughter.

  A powerful engine sprang to life from the marina, and minutes later a fully lit cruiser eased out from its berth and headed toward the main channel.

  ‘This reminds me a little of the south of France,’ Raoul revealed, indicating the marina. ‘Have you traveled at all?’

  ‘North America.’ It seemed ages ago, a part of her past she no longer chose to dwell on.

  ‘A holiday?’

  ‘Yes.’ A conducted tour in the company of the man she was to marry. Post Ben, pre-Emma.

  ‘You visited New York?’

  ‘I loved the beat of the city, the pulse of life. Seen as a tourist,’ she ventured quietly. ‘I imagine everyday reality causes it to lose some of the glamour.’

  She finished the last of her coffee. ‘I really must leave. Sarah has exams tomorrow, and I promised not to be late.’

  ‘I’ll walk you to your car.’

  ‘There’s no need. I parked in the Mirage shopping complex, and the area is well-lit.’

  ‘Come, we’ll find Bruno and you can tell him you’ve enjoyed a pleasant evening.’

  ‘I can do that quite well on my own.’

  He took her cup and placed it down onto a nearby side table along with his own.

  ‘You don’t listen, do you?’ Stephanie vented with angry resignation as he accompanied her across the room.

  Bruno was engaged in conversation with two men, and he looked up as Raoul drew close.

  ‘You are leaving? So soon?’

  ‘It’s been a lovely evening,’ Stephanie complimented with a warm smile. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I will be in touch with Raoul about dinner. Toward the end of the week?’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘We’ll confirm with you,’ Raoul indicated smoothly.

  Stephanie waited until they gained the main foyer before trusting herself to speak. ‘Just what did you think you were doing back there?’

  ‘Specifically?’

  ‘Accepting a dinner invitation on my behalf!’

  ‘My exact words conveyed we’d confirm.’

  She shot him a baleful glare as they passed through the front entrance. ‘We?’ Her voice rose a fraction. ‘You can make whatever plans you like!’

  ‘I intend to. Be aware they’ll also include you.’

  ‘The hell they will!’ They gained the pavement, and she turned to face him, anger emanating from every pore. ‘I don’t need a bodyguard, and I especially don’t need you to assume a role in my life.’ She undid the clasp of her evening purse and extracted her car keys. ‘Good night!’

  She’d parked the car at street level, and there was only a short distance to walk. She gained less than half a dozen paces when Raoul fell into step at her side.

  ‘You are, without doubt, the most infuriating man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet!’ she vented furiously as she reached her car.

  ‘In that case, I have nothing to lose.’ In a swift synchronized movement he brought her close, slid one hand to cup her head as he captured her lips with his own.

  For several long seconds she fought against succumbing to the melting sensation threatening to destroy all rational thought. Her hands lifted to pummel his shoulders, only to fall onto each forearm as she opened her mouth to him.

  Oh God, she begged in silent plea as his tongue took an evocative exploratory sweep. Don’t do this to me. Why, why were her emotions at such variance with the dictates of her brain? All it took was his touch, and she fell to pieces.

  Raoul sensed the moment she gave in, and he deepened the kiss, taking her to new heights in emotional intensity.

  Her response drove him to cup her bottom and lift her close against him. He wanted more, much more, and the temptation to invite her to his hotel suite was imperative. Except such an action would destroy any advantage he might already have gained.

  Instead he eased the pressure, lightening the kiss until his lips brushed gently back and forth over her own, and he slid his hands to cradle her face as he slowly lifted his head.

  Her eyes were wide, dilated, and filled with shimmering moisture. The sight of those unspilled tears caused his gut to tighten, and undid him more than any words she might have uttered.

  He brushed his thumb over the lower curve of her lip, and felt its faint tremor. He wanted to draw her back into his arms, and simply hold her. Rarely had he glimpsed such naked vulnerability in a woman’s eyes, and there was a part of him that seethed in silent anger against the man who had put it there.

  He saw the effort it cost her to regain control, to gather her defenses together and step back from him.

  His hands slid down her arms and settled on her wrists. ‘Stephanie—’

  ‘I have to go. Please.’

  The last word held a slightly desperate edge, and he released her, took the keys from her nerveless fingers, unlocked the car door and saw her seated behind the wheel.

  Stephanie fired the engine, then barely resisted the temptation to reverse at speed, then send the car tearing out onto the road.

  It was only supreme control that stopped her, and she didn’t cast Raoul so much as a glance as she eased into the flow of traffic.

  She wasn’t conscious of having held her breath until she released it in a long pent-up groan. Why had she allowed herself to fall into that kiss?

  A choked laugh caught in her throat. Raoul Lanier hadn’t really given her an option! Except she hadn’t fought him, and she should have. For her own emotional sanity, not to mention her peace of mind.

  She drove automatically, conscious of the traffic, the intersections, the computerized lights as she traversed the main highway toward Mermaid Beach.

  Yet she retained a vivid image of how Raoul’s mouth had possessed her own, the slide of his hands, and her body’s damnable reaction.

  She had sworn after Ben that she’d never allow another man to get close to her again. She
’d trusted one, and had that trust broken. Just as she had loved, and discovered her interpretation of love and Ben’s didn’t match.

  There was Emma, dear sweet innocent Emma. It was enough. She didn’t want or need a man to complicate her life. And she especially didn’t need Raoul Lanier, who, in a week or two, would board a plane and jet off to the other side of the world to take up where he left off with his life.

  He probably had a mistress.

  Now why did that cause her stomach to perform a painful somersault? She didn’t like the man, she definitely disliked the way he affected her, and she had no intention of allowing a personal relationship to develop between them.

  Stephanie reached the fringes of suburban Mermaid Beach, and minutes later she turned into her driveway, activated a modem and garaged the car.

  Indoors, Sarah relayed all was well and gathered up her books, then Stephanie kept watch until the girl reached her home safely before locking up.

  Emma slept peacefully, and Stephanie tucked in the blanket, moved the teddy bear, then quietly retreated to her own room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT HADN’T been the best of mornings, Stephanie reflected as she checked her computer’s electronic mail. No doubt compounded by the fact she hadn’t slept well and was nursing a headache.

  One message was headlined as Urgent, and she uttered a soft curse as she clicked it open. The date for the movie’s photographic shoot needed to be rescheduled. Could she contact the Sheraton management, organize a suitable time to check the proposed layout, liaise with the photographer and confirm this afternoon?

  She reached for her phone, only to have it beep, and she automatically lifted the receiver. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I have Raoul Lanier on hold,’ Isabel intoned.

  Stephanie’s stomach immediately curled into a tight ball. ‘Have him call back.’

  ‘Okay. Any message?’

  Not one you could repeat, she ruminated darkly. ‘No,’ she managed to say evenly. ‘Can you get me Alex Stanford on the line? Try his cell phone.’ The photographer was one of the best, and with luck he’d be able to spare half an hour to go over the proposed shots.