Stephanie finished her sandwich, drained the last of her cappuccino, then paid her bill at the counter and walked out into the sunshine.
She hadn’t covered more than a few steps when a feminine slightly accented voice said her name.
No, please tell me it isn’t Ghislaine, she prayed silently, only to turn and discover her prayers unanswered. What on earth was the Frenchwoman doing in this part of town?
‘I took the wrong exit from the shopping center,’ Ghislaine offered in explanation. ‘I was looking for a taxi rank.’
‘Way wrong,’ Stephanie agreed. ‘You can either retrace your steps to the center and get directions for the right exit, or,’ she suggested, wondering why she should be so helpful, ‘I can ring the taxi company and have them send a car here.’
‘Oh, here would be wonderful.’
It took only minutes to organize, and she replaced the cell phone into her bag. ‘You’ll have to excuse me. I need to get back to the office.’
‘Before you go,’ Ghislaine began with pseudo sweetness. ‘I want to thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘Discrediting me with Raoul.’
Stephanie’s stomach executed a painful somersault at the thought Ghislaine had probably deliberately set up watch on the off chance she’d frequent her usual lunch venue today.
‘You managed to do that all by yourself,’ Stephanie responded carefully.
‘Raoul rang me this morning, suggesting we meet for coffee at the Terraces.’ Her eyes glittered with ill-concealed anger. ‘I looked forward to a tête-è-tête. Surely my visit to your office was private?’
Stephanie could almost visualize Ghislaine sharpening her metaphorical claws.
‘Or do you always run to your men and tell tales?’
Grr. She was inclined to unsheathe her own! However a scene on a public street simply wasn’t on her agenda. Silence, in some instances, was more effective than mere words.
‘Who are you? A nonentity with no noble breeding, no social standing, nothing!’ Ghislaine stated with scathing insolence.
‘Whereas you are eminently qualified in each criterion?’
‘Yes, damn you!’
Stephanie felt her blood heat. ‘Sadly, blue blood and lineage don’t necessarily guarantee desire.’
‘Bitch.’ She took a step forward and swung the palm of her hand, narrowly missing her target as Stephanie twisted her head to one side.
‘Perhaps I should remind you that verbal defamation can warrant legal prosecution, and physical abuse will land you in court.’
‘Raoul belongs to me.’
There was no way she was going to stand here and take any more of Ghislaine’s verbal vitriol. Without a word she stepped forward and began walking.
‘Don’t you dare turn your back on me. I haven’t finished with you!’
She didn’t pause, or even bother to look back. A mistake, she learned seconds later, as something heavy careened into her back and almost sent her sprawling to the pavement.
A shoulder bag, she saw as she straightened, and swung with Ghislaine’s weight behind it. ‘That amounted to deliberate assault.’
Ghislaine’s attractive features were brittle with fury. ‘Where are your witnesses?’ She gave an expressive shrug. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you tripped. Pity you didn’t fall.’
This had gone quite far enough! ‘You want to go the distance, Ghislaine? Raoul won’t be impressed to learn you paid someone to slash my tires. Not once, but twice.’ Her eyebrows rose. ‘You didn’t think I’d find out?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Stephanie drew breath, and aimed for the kill. ‘No? What did you think your scare tactics would do, Ghislaine? Send me running in the opposite direction?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t frighten that easily.’
‘He just wants you for sex!’
‘If that’s true,’ she opined carefully. ‘Why me, when you’re so willing to service him?’
Ghislaine looked as if she was going to throw the mother of all hissy fits, for her face paled, then tinged pink. Her eyes assumed a glassy look, her mouth thinned, and if it was possible for steam to emit from a human’s ears…
‘If you weren’t on the scene—’
‘It would be some other woman,’ Stephanie offered. ‘Accept it for the truth, and move on.’
‘As you will?’
A horn blast close by alerted the taxi’s arrival, and Ghislaine stepped across the grass verge and slid into the rear seat. Seconds later the taxi accelerated down the road.
Within minutes Stephanie walked through the entrance foyer and took the lift to her floor. Outwardly she appeared composed. No small achievement, when inside she was a mess of conflicting emotions, uppermost of which was the need to hit out in restrained anger at Ghislaine’s obsessive behavior.
‘You have two urgent calls to return, three faxes are on your desk and your three o’clock appointment has rescheduled thirty minutes early.’
It was back to work with a vengeance, and she continued at a punishing pace until five. The worst of it had been dealt with, and what hadn’t could wait until tomorrow, she decided wearily as she shut down the computer, collected her bag and exited the office.
Raoul was waiting for her in the downstairs foyer, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, his grooming exemplary. He really was something else, she conceded as she drew close. She’d miss him like hell when he left.
‘Hi.’
Her greeting was bright, too bright, Raoul decided as he took in her pale features, the air of fragility apparent.
‘Tough day?’ he queried lightly, and saw her faint grimace.
‘An understatement.’
With a swiftness that surprised her he captured her mouth with his own and kissed her. Thoroughly.
She could only gaze at him in startled surprise when he lifted his head, and he smiled, watching her eyes darken and dilate. ‘You looked as if you needed it.’
She did, but not for the reason he imagined.
Traffic was heavy, and it took twenty minutes to reach Mermaid Beach.
‘I’ll go shower and change,’ Stephanie intimated as they entered the house. ‘Help yourself to a drink.’
He let her go, and crossed into the kitchen, selected something nonalcoholic from the refrigerator, then entered the lounge.
The bank of framed photographs caught his attention, and he picked up one of Stephanie holding Emma as a young baby.
He traced her outline with his finger, his lips curving slightly at her celluloid smile, the brave tilt of her head. Strong, courageous, she possessed integrity, passion, and a sense of self he found admirable.
Emma’s father had been a fool, he accorded silently. In more ways than one.
Raoul replaced the frame and crossed to the window, then stood looking out over the grass to the neat bordered garden running the length of the fence separating the house next door. Flowers bloomed in carefully tended clumps, and there were shrubs, a few palm trees indicative of the tropical Queensland climate.
Stephanie found him there as she entered the lounge, and he turned, taking in her slender frame, the light red-gold hair styled in a neat bob, the delicate facial bone structure.
‘Stunning,’ he complimented, noting the way the electric-blue silk emphasized her cream-textured skin and highlighted her eyes.
‘Shall we leave?’
Raoul caught up his keys and followed her out to the car. ‘You’ll need to give me directions.’
‘It’s not far.’
The private home was owned by a wealthy client who was known for his generosity and his penchant for entertaining. Located in a one-way street running parallel to the foreshore, the extensive three-level mansion was one of many very exclusive homes overlooking the ocean.
There were perhaps thirty invited guests sipping champagne and indulging in bite-size canapés.
‘The purpose of t
his soiree is business?’ Raoul inclined as more guests drifted into the large lounge.
‘Definitely. Charles is one of the firm’s most influential clients.’ Stephanie wrinkled her nose at him. ‘Who likes to lead into the festive season with the first of the pre-Christmas cocktail parties.’ A faintly wicked smile tugged the edge of her lips. ‘Yes, I know. It’s only the first week in November.’
During the ensuing hour they mixed and mingled, together and separately as Raoul was drawn into conversation while a guest snagged Stephanie’s attention.
She was good at her job, he perceived. Her interest was genuine, and she had a head for dates and figures that earned her respect from her peers.
His gaze lingered as she laughed spontaneously at someone’s joke, then moved easily into conversation.
At that precise moment she lifted her head and looked at him, aware instinctively that he’d been watching her, and she smiled, offering him a slightly raised eyebrow in silent query.
Was it possible for two people to communicate without words? Did he sense that she wanted him so badly she could almost feel his touch?
Stephanie felt the heat rise deep inside, sensed the prickle of awareness scud across the surface of her skin, as she endeavored to contain her wayward thoughts.
With a sense of fascination she watched as he murmured a few words to the man he was with, then he made his way toward her.
‘Having fun?’ she lightly teased as he drew close, and almost melted beneath the warmth of his smile.
‘By any definition,’ Raoul drawled, and lifting a hand he trailed the pads of his fingers across her cheek.
Her eyes flared, and she was willing to swear her lower lip shook a little in involuntary reaction. She felt her body sway fractionally toward his, almost as if it had a mind of its own.
‘Hungry?’ He let his hand trace the length of her arm to her wrist and threaded his fingers through hers. ‘For food?’ she countered with a wicked smile, and felt the faint pressure as his fingers curled around her own.
‘That, too.’
‘I know of an intimate restaurant not far from here that serves the most divine Italian food.’ She waited a beat. ‘We could take some home and have a feast.’
‘You don’t want candlelight, Chianti and Andrea Bocelli singing sweet ballads on the CD player?’
She felt a bubble of laughter rise in her throat. ‘Well,’ she conceded, offering him a deliciously seductive smile. ‘If you insist on an authentic ambience.’
They left a short while later, and it took only minutes to reach the small restaurant situated in a long block of shops fronting the southbound highway.
Owned and operated by an extended Italian family, they were greeted at the door by a courtly uncle, served wine by the eldest son, a daughter served the food, while both parents and the uncle’s wife reigned in the kitchen.
The aroma of fresh herbs and spices mingled with wine and a host of tantalizing sauces, and there was music…
‘Pavarotti,’ Raoul drawled as Stephanie opted for a table, ‘Making me wait, hmm?’ he murmured with a teasing smile as he followed her to a spare table on the far side of the room.
‘It’s called anticipation.’
‘I’ll get my revenge later.’
Her eyes gleamed with wicked humor as they each took a seat. ‘I’m trembling.’
‘As well you should.’
Raoul ordered a mild red Lambrusco, and they settled on a starter each and followed it with another, rather than a main, choosing a clear soup, followed by spinach and feta ravioli served with mushrooms.
‘Perfecto,’ Raoul declared when they finished the dish and ordered coffee.
It was after eleven when Raoul paid the bill and they left. The night was warm, and the sky held a myriad of stars, heralding another fine day tomorrow.
How many more days did she have left? Two, three? Don’t think about it, a small voice cautioned. They had the night, and it was enough. It had to be enough.
Yet how could it be, she agonized hours later as she lay spent beside him. A long, slow loving so incredibly tender she’d almost wept as he brought her to orgasm, then just as she thought it was over he took her soaring to impossible heights and beyond.
Afterward she had pleasured him, embracing every muscle, annointing every inch of skin in a flagrant trail that left him groaning with a need so intense it was almost beyond control.
What followed was nothing less than a pagan coupling, primitive and unrestrained as they were driven by an intoxicating frenzy that was wild, erotic and totally shameless.
Slowly, with infinite care, Stephanie slid out from beneath the covers, caught up her robe and moved silently down to the lounge.
Moonlight slipped through the partly open shutters, and she adjusted them slightly to ensure a clear view of the yard. Everything was still, and the moon cast long shadows from the few trees and shrubs.
In the distance a dog barked, then quietened, and she stood gazing out into the opalescent night, silent and lost in introspective thought.
It was there Raoul found her, after stirring and finding an empty space beside him, and he’d moved quickly, silently, through the house until he reached the lounge and saw her slender form outlined beside the window.
Something tugged at his heart. She stood so still, so obviously lost in thought. How long had she been there?
Her arms were crossed at her midriff, and she looked so alone, almost forlorn.
‘Unable to sleep, cherie?’ he queried quietly as he moved to stand behind her. He slid his hands around her waist and drew her back to rest against him.
Stephanie felt his lips caress the delicate pulse beat at the edge of her neck, and let herself sink into him.
‘It’s a beautiful night,’ she said huskily, and felt a sensation arrow through her body as he nuzzled an earlobe.
‘Oui.’ His fingers splayed down over her stomach and slid between the opening of her robe. ‘I have to fly back to Paris at the end of the week.’
Her heart lurched, then stopped beating for a few seconds. Pain seeped through every pore in her body, and she could almost swear she forgot to breathe.
The moment she’d been dreading had finally arrived. Why, in her wildest dreams, had she hoped that it wouldn’t?
What could she say? Don’t go?
‘I want you with me.’
Paris? Paris. It wasn’t possible. How could she even consider it? What about Emma? Celeste was wonderful, but she couldn’t expect her mother… Besides, there was her job. ‘We live different lives on opposite sides of the world.’ She was breaking up inside. ‘But we don’t—’
‘Have a future?’ His hands slid to her shoulders and he turned her around to face him. ‘Yes, we do.’
Pride was responsible for the way her chin lifted, and her gaze was steady. ‘As sometime lovers who spend a week or two together whenever the timing is right?’
‘No. I have something different in mind.’
‘I’m not mistress material,’ she assured sadly.
His teeth showed white as his mouth curved to form a musing smile. ‘I’m relieved to hear it.’
‘I have a child, a career,’ she stated.
‘This career, here, is too important for you to give up?’ Raoul queried.
‘I have responsibilities, financial commitments.’
‘If the financial commitments were removed?’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘Marry me.’
Shock deprived her of the ability to speak, and when she found her voice, the words emerged as little more than a whisper. ‘What did you say?’
‘Marry me,’ Raoul repeated gently.
‘You’re not serious?’
‘I can assure you I have never been more serious in my life.’
‘But—’
‘If a career is so important to you, I can arrange a position in marketing, or any field you choose.’
She didn’t doubt it. ‘Raou
l—’
‘I have an apartment in Auteuil, and a home in the Chinon wine region of the Loire Valley. Emma will delight in spending weekends and holidays there.’
‘You’re going too fast,’ she protested.
‘No,’ he denied quietly. ‘I want you with me, as my wife, wherever I happen to be in the world. Emma is a part of you that is everything to me. Perhaps in a few years there will be a sister or brother for her to love and care for. But for now, we share whatever the future holds…together.’
Stephanie felt the prick of tears, and fought hard to control them.
‘I have important meetings in Paris next week. Four days, mon amour, then I’ll be back and we will arrange our wedding. Your parents will return to Paris with us for Christmas.’
Christmas was only weeks away. ‘It’s too soon…we can’t—’
‘We can. Easily.’ Money, sufficient amounts of it, had a power of its own.
‘You love me.’
It was a statement, not a query. She could only wonder at her own transparency, and how long he’d known.
He cradled her face in his hands, glimpsed the fleeting emotions, and appraised each and every one of them. ‘I took one look at you that first day on the film set,’ he revealed softly. ‘And knew my life would never be the same again.’
Any minute soon she’d wake and discover this was nothing more than wishful thinking on the part of her subconscious mind.
‘Be with me, stay with me. Eternity. Je t’aime, mon coeur.’
Her bones turned to liquid, and she wound her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers, initiating a kiss that reached to the very depths of her soul.
‘I fought against becoming emotionally involved with you every step of the way,’ Stephanie revealed in a voice just above a whisper. ‘I tried so hard to convince myself you were a complication I couldn’t afford. But everywhere I turned, there you were. I couldn’t seem to escape you.’
His lips were creating an evocative path at her temple, and she could almost feel his smile.
The Helen Bianchin Collection Page 240
