The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (133 page)

Selecting something suitable to wear was relatively simple, and she chose an elegant two-piece suit in brilliant red silk, opted against wearing a blouse, and decided on high-heeled black suede shoes and matching clutch-purse. Make-up was understated, with skilful attention to her eyes, then she blowdried her hair and slipped on a silk robe, confident that within five minutes of settling Georg she could be ready.

The sound of the front door closing alerted her attention, and seconds later Aleksi entered the room.

‘The babysitter will be here at six,’ he told her as he shed his jacket and tossed it on to the bed. ‘We’ll collect
my parents at six-thirty, and our table is booked for an hour later.’

Alyse merely nodded as his fingers slid to the buttons on his shirt, and he paused, his eyes narrowing on her averted gaze.

‘Is there some problem with that?’

‘None at all,’ she said stiffly.

‘Don’t indulge in a fit of the sulks,’ Aleksi cautioned, and she rounded on him at once with all the pent-up fury she’d harboured over the past hour.

‘I am not sulking!’ she snapped angrily. ‘I just don’t care to be figuratively dissected, piece by piece, in the presence of your parents, simply as a means of amusement!’

One eyebrow arched, and his mouth assumed its customary cynicism. ‘What, precisely, are you referring to?’

‘I didn’t sit at home while Antonia went out and had all the fun,’ she told him, holding his gaze without any difficulty at all.

‘But you assumed responsibility for her welfare, did you not?’ Aleksi queried with deceptive mildness. ‘And, as the eldest, shouldered burdens which had your parents been alive would have given you more freedom?’

‘If you’re suggesting I assumed the role of surrogate parent, you couldn’t be more wrong!’

He stood regarding her in silence for what seemed an age. ‘Then tell me what you did out of work hours, aside from keep house?’

Her eyes became stormy. ‘I don’t owe you any explanations.’

‘Then why become defensive when I suggested you took the elder sister role so seriously?’

‘Because you implied a denial of any social existence, which isn’t true.’

‘So you went out on dates, enjoyed the company of men?’

The desire to shock was paramount. ‘Yes,’ she said shortly, knowing it to be an extension of the truth. Her chin tilted slightly, and her eyes assumed a dangerous sparkle. ‘What comes next, Aleksi? Do we each conduct a head-count of previous sexual partners?’

‘Have there been so many?’

‘I don’t consider it bears any relevance to our relationship,’ she said steadily, and saw his eyes narrow.

‘Do you doubt my ability to please you?’

The conversation had shifted on to dangerous ground, and Alyse felt her stomach nerves tighten at the thought of that strong body bent over her own in pursuit of sexual pleasure.

‘Are you suggesting we indulge in sex simply for the sake of it in a mutual claim for conjugal rights?’

His eyes gleamed with sardonic humour. ‘My dear Alyse, do you perceive sex merely as a duty?’ He lifted a hand and cupped her jaw, letting his thumb brush her cheek. ‘Either your experience is limited or your lovers have been selfishly insensitive.’

It was impossible to still the faint rush of colour to her cheeks, and her eyes silently warred with his as she sought to control her temper.

Slowly he lowered his head, and she stood in mesmerised fascination as his lips caressed her temple, then slid down to trace the outline of her mouth in a gentle exploration that was incredibly evocative.

A faint quiver of apprehension ran through her body, and her mouth trembled as his tongue probed its soft
contours, then slid between her lips to wreak sweet havoc with the sensitised tissues.

It would be so easy to melt into his arms and deepen the kiss. For a few timeless seconds Alyse ignored the spasms of alarm racing to her brain in warning of the only possible conclusion such an action would have.

A soft hiccuping cry emerged from the adjoining sitting-room, and within seconds Georg was in full swing, demanding sustenance in no uncertain terms.

‘Pity,’ murmured Aleksi as he released her, and her eyes widened, then clouded with sudden realisation as she turned quickly away from him.

Crossing into the sitting-room, she picked Georg up from his cot and changed him, then made her way to the kitchen where she heated his bottle and fed him.

He sucked hungrily, and she slowed him down, talking gently as she always did, sure that he was able to understand simply by the tone of her voice that he was very much loved. He seemed to grow with each passing day, and her heart filled with pride as she leant forward to brush her lips against his tiny forehead.

He was worth everything,
anything
she had to endure as Aleksi Stefanos’s wife. A truly beautiful child who deserved to be cherished, she decided wistfully as she settled him almost an hour later.

Swiftly discarding her robe, she quickly donned the silk evening suit and slipped her feet into the elegant high-heeled suede shoes. A brisk brush brought her hair into smooth order, and she sprayed a generous quantity of her favourite perfume to several pulsebeats before standing back to survey the result in the full-length mirror.

Muted chimes sounded through the intercom, and Aleksi emerged from his dressing-room.

‘That will be Melanie. She’s a dedicated law student, the eldest of five, and extremely capable. I’ll let her in.’

The breath caught in Alyse’s throat at the sight of him, and she rapidly schooled her expression as she took in his immaculate dark suit, thin-striped shirt and impeccably knotted tie.

Any feelings of unease at leaving Georg with a total stranger were dispelled within minutes of meeting the girl Aleksi introduced as the daughter of one of his associates.

‘I’ve written down the phone number of the restaurant,’ he told her, handing over a slip of paper. ‘And the apartment, in case we stop for coffee when we drop off my parents. We’ll be home around midnight. If it’s going to be any later, I’ll ring.’

‘Georg is already asleep,’ Alyse added. ‘I doubt if he’ll wake, but if he does it’s probably because he needs changing. If he won’t settle, give him a bottle. He’s just started sleeping through the night, except for the occasional evening. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you where everything is.’

Fifteen minutes later she was seated in the luxurious BMW as it purred along the ocean-front road that led into the heart of Surfers Paradise.

‘Where are we dining?’ she asked.

‘The Sheraton-Mirage; it’s located on the Spit.’

‘Where anyone important is
seen
, no doubt.’ She hadn’t meant to sound cynical, and she suffered his swift analytical glance as a consequence.

‘Rachel fell in love with the resort complex when she
and my father were here last year. It’s at her request that we’re dining there tonight.’

She should apologise, she knew, but the words refused to emerge, and she sat in silence until the car pulled to a halt at the entrance to a prestigious multi-storey apartment block overlooking the ocean.

At attendant slid in behind the wheel as Alyse followed Aleksi into the elegant foyer, and seconds later a lift transported them swiftly to an upper floor.

The apartment was much larger than she had expected, with magnificent views through floor-to-ceiling plate glass of the north and southern coastline. Pinpricks of light sparkled from a multitude of high-rise towers lining the coastal tourist strip, and beneath the velvet evening skyline the scene resembled a magical fairyland that stretched as far as the eye could see.

‘You look stunning, my dear,’ Rachel complimented Alyse quietly.

‘Yes, doesn’t she?’

Alyse heard Aleksi’s faintly mocking drawl, and opted to ignore it. ‘Thank you.’

‘Would you prefer to have a drink here, or wait until we’re at the complex?’

‘The complex, I think,’ Rachel concurred. ‘I’m sure Alyse will be as enchanted with it as I am.’

A correct deduction, Alyse decided on entering the wide lobby with its deep-piled blue carpets, cream marble tiles and exotic antiques. The central waterfall was spectacular, as was the tiled lagoon with its island bar.

‘We must come out during the day,’ Rachel declared with a smile. ‘The marina shopping complex directly across the road is delightful. We could explore it together, and share a coffee and chat.’

‘My wife adores to shop,’ Alexandros informed Alyse with a deep drawl not unlike that of his son.

They took a seat in the lounge-bar and Alyse declined anything alcoholic, aware of Aleksi’s faintly hooded appraisal as she voiced her preference for an order identical to his stepmother’s request for mineral water spiked with fresh orange juice.

‘My dear, don’t feel you must abstain simply because I choose to do so.’

‘I don’t drink,’ she revealed quietly. ‘Except for champagne on special occasions.’

‘Dom Perignon?’ queried Rachel with hopeful conspiracy, and Alyse smiled in silent acquiescence.

‘In that case, we’ll indulge you both at dinner,’ said Aleksi, giving the waiter their order, then he sat well back in his chair, looking infinitely relaxed and at ease.

Alyse would have given anything to be rid of the nervous tension that steadily created painful cramps in her stomach. It was madness to feel so intensely vulnerable; insane, to be so frighteningly aware of the man seated within touching distance.

The image of his kiss, so warm and infinitely evocative, rose up to taunt her, and she had to summon all her reserves of willpower to present a smiling, seemingly relaxed façade.

No matter what private aspirations Rachel and Alexandros held for their son’s marriage, it was apparent that the union afforded them tremendous pleasure. Equally obvious was an approval of their daughter-in-law, and Alyse experienced a feeling of deep regret—not only for Antonia’s loss, but for her own. If she could have selected ideal parents-in-law, it would be
difficult to choose a nicer couple than Aleksi’s father and stepmother.

Such introspection was dangerous, and it was a relief when they entered the restaurant and were shown to their table.

T
HE SETTING WAS
superb, the food a gourmet’s delight, presented with flair and artistry. Except that Alyse’s appetite seemed to be non-existent as she selected cream of mushroom soup, then followed it with crumbed prawn cutlets.

After sipping half a flute of champagne she felt more at ease, but she was supremely conscious of Aleksi’s solicitous attention, the accidental brush of his fingers against her own, and the acute sensation that he was instigating a deliberate seduction.

Consequently it was a relief when Alexandros asked if she’d care to join him on the dance floor.

Alyse spared Rachel an enquiring smile. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Of course not, my dear.’ Rachel’s features assumed a faintly mischievous expression. ‘Aleksi and I will join you.’

Alexandros, as Aleksi’s father insisted she call him, was every bit as commanding as his indomitable son, Alyse decided as she rose graciously from the table and allowed him to lead her on to the restaurant’s small dance floor. There was the same vital, almost electric energy apparent, an awareness of male sensuality
that had little to do with chronological age. Alexandros Stefanos was charming: polite, deferential, and genuine. The sort of man a woman could entrust with her life.

‘You’re light on your feet, like a feather,’ he complimented her. ‘So graceful.’

‘You’re an accomplished partner,’ she returned with a faint smile.

‘And you’re very kind.’

Am I? she thought silently. I’m not at all kindly disposed towards your son. Out loud, she said, ‘I hope you and Rachel are enjoying your holiday.’

‘My dear, how can I explain the joy among the grief in discovering that Georgiou had fathered a son? He’s very much loved, that child, his existence so precious to us all.’

Alyse couldn’t think of a single thing to say, and she circled the floor in silence, hardly aware of the music or their fellow dancers on the floor.

‘Shall we change partners?’ a deep voice drawled from close by, and she missed her step, distinctly ill at ease that she was about to be relinquished into the waiting arms of her husband.

Aleksi’s hold was far from conventional, and she wanted to scream with vexation.

‘Must you?’ she hissed, totally enraged at the proprietorial possessiveness of his grasp. She was all too aware of a subjugation so infinite, it was impossible not to feel afraid.

‘Dance with my wife?’

His resort to mockery was deliberate, and momentarily defeated in the knowledge that self-assertion would only cause a scene, Alyse tilted her head and gave him a brilliant smile.

‘This is
dancing
, Aleksi? You can’t begin to know how much I’d like to slap your face!’

One eyebrow slanted in cynical amusement. ‘Good heavens, whatever will you do when we make love? Kill me?’

‘I’ll have a darned good try!’

His eyes darkened with ill-concealed humour. ‘Yes, I do believe you will.’

There was no doubt he’d enjoy the fight, and its aftermath, while instinctive self-preservation warned that if she dared submit she would never be the same again.

The music playing was one of those incredibly poignant songs that stirred at the heartstrings, with lyrics of such depth that just hearing them almost brought tears to her eyes.

You’re mad, she told herself shakily. You hate him, remember? The strain of the past few days; meeting Georg’s grandparents. It was all too much.

A slight shiver feathered its way across the surface of her skin. Any kind of emotional involvement was a luxury she couldn’t afford if she were to instigate a divorce and return to Perth with Georg.

‘I’d like to go back to our table.’ The words came out as a slightly desperate plea, and she strained away from him in her anxiety to escape the intimacy of his hold.

‘The band will take a break soon. Besides, my parents are still dancing. We should return together, don’t you think?’ His voice sounded mild close to her ear, and she felt his breath stir at her temple, teasing a few tendrils of hair.

‘I have the beginnings of a headache,’ she improvised, and felt immeasurably relieved as he led her to
the edge of the dance floor, his gaze sharp and far too discerning for her peace of mind.

‘Fact, or fiction?’

Her eyes blazed a brilliant blue. ‘Does it really matter?’ Angry beyond belief, she turned and moved quickly away from him.

On reaching the brightly lit powder-room she crossed to an empty space in front of the long mirror and pretended interest in her features.

She was far too pale, she decided in analytical appraisal, and her eyes bore a vaguely haunted look, reflecting an inner tension that was akin to a vulnerable animal confronted by a hunting predator.

A tiny bubble of derisive laughter rose and died in her throat at her illogical parallel. Dear lord, she’d have to get a hold on herself. Imaginative flights of fancy were of no help whatsoever in her resolve against Aleksi Stefanos.

The invention of a headache wasn’t entirely an untruth, for a persistent niggle began to manifest itself behind one eye, and she attributed its cause directly to her husband.

Aware that her escape could only be a temporary respite, she resolutely withdrew a lipstick from her evening purse and tidied her hair to its smooth bell-like style before returning to their table.

‘My dear, are you all right?’ Rachel asked the moment Alyse was seated, and she countered the force of three pairs of apparently concerned eyes with a reassuring smile.

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘You’re very pale. Are you sure?’

Obviously she wasn’t succeeding very well in the
acting stakes! ‘Georg still wakes through the night,’ she explained lightly, ‘and is often difficult to settle.’

‘Georgiou was the same at a similar age—an angel by day, yet restless at night.’ Rachel offered a conciliatory smile. ‘It will soon pass.’

‘Meanwhile it’s proving quite disruptive to our sleep,’ drawled Aleksi, shooting Alyse a particularly intimate glance.

Damn him, had he no shame? she fumed, forced into silence out of deference to his parents’ presence.

‘Tell me about the party you’ve both planned,’ Rachel began, in what Alyse decided was a sympathetic attempt to change the subject.

‘A delayed wedding reception,’ Aleksi elaborated with bland disregard for her barely contained surprise. ‘Providing an opportunity for family and friends to share the celebration of our marriage.’

Alyse felt her stomach execute a few painful somersaults. How dared he propose something so ludicrous? It was only compounding a mockery, and she wanted no part in it.

‘What a wonderful idea!’ his stepmother enthused, while Alyse sought to dampen an increasing sense of anger for what remained of the evening.

In the car she sat tensely on edge as Aleksi brought the luxurious vehicle to a smooth halt in the wide bricked apron at the entrance to the tall apartment block.

‘Will you join us for coffee?’ asked Rachel, and Alyse held her breath as Aleksi issued a reluctant refusal.

‘It’s quite late, and we’re both anxious to get home.’ His smile appeared genuinely warm. ‘The babysitter
is extremely capable, but it’s the first time we’ve left Georg in her care.’

That was true enough, although it was unlikely that there had been any problems, and Alyse managed to smile as they bade each other goodnight, issuing a spontaneous invitation for the older woman to join her the next day.

However, the instant the car cleared the driveway Alyse burst into angry pent-up speech.

‘You are impossible!’

‘Why, specifically?’ Aleksi countered cynically, and she was so incensed that if he hadn’t been driving she would have hit him.

Spreading one hand, she ticked off each consecutive grudge. ‘Deliberately implying that we share the same bed. And when you announced a party, I hardly imagined you’d expect me to give a repeat performance as a blushing bride.’

‘My dear Alyse, do you still blush?’

She cast him a furious glare. ‘I used the term in a purely figurative sense.’

‘Of course.’

‘Oh, don’t be so damned
patronising
!’

‘If you want to fight, at least wait until we reach home,’ he cautioned cynically, and, momentarily defeated, Alyse turned her attention to the passing scenery beyond the windscreen.

The sky was an inky black as it merged with the shallow waters of the inner harbour, providing a startling background for brightly lit venues along the famed tourist strip. Outlines were crisp and sharp, and a pinprick sprinkling of stars lent promise of another day of sunshine in a sub-tropical winterless climate.

Aleksi chose the waterfront road, and Alyse wondered darkly if he was deliberately giving her temper an opportunity to cool.

Georg hadn’t even murmured, Melanie reported, accepting the notes Aleksi placed in her hand before departing with a friendly smile.

‘I’ll check Georg,’ said Alyse hastily.

‘An excuse to escape, Alyse?’

‘No, damn you!’

His eyes gleamed with latent mockery. ‘I’ll make coffee. Liqueur and cream?’

Resentment flared as she turned to face him. ‘I’m going to bed—I’ve done my duty for the evening. Goodnight.’

There was a palpable pause. ‘You consider an evening spent with Rachel and my father a duty?’

Alyse closed her eyes, then opened them again. ‘They’re both utterly charming. Their son, however, is not.’

‘Indeed?’ His voice sounded like velvet-encased steel. ‘Perhaps you would care to clarify that?’

‘You act as if I’m your wife!’

One eyebrow rose in cynical query. ‘My dear Alyse, I have in my possession a marriage certificate stating clearly that you are.’

‘You know very well what I mean!’

‘Does it bother you that I accord you a measure of husbandly affection?’

‘Courteous attention I can accept,’ she acknowledged angrily. ‘But intimate contact is totally unnecessary.’

His smile was peculiarly lacking in humour. ‘I haven’t even begun with intimacy.’

Her hand flew in an upward arc, only to be caught in a bonecrushing grip that left her gasping with pain.

‘So eager to hit out, Alyse? Aren’t you in the least concerned what form of punishment I might care to mete out?’ he asked deliberately, pulling her inextricably close.

‘Do you specialise in wife-beating, Aleksi?’ she countered in defiance, and suffered momentary qualms at the anger beneath the surface of his control.

‘I prefer something infinitely more subtle,’ he drawled, and she retaliated without thought.

‘I hardly dare ask!’

‘Sheer bravado, or naïveté?’

‘Oh,
both
,’ she acknowledged, then gave a startled gasp as he slid an arm beneath her knees and lifted her into his arms. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

The look he cast her cut right through to her soul. ‘Taking you to bed. Mine,’ he elaborated with icy intent.

Her eyes dilated with shock. ‘Don’t! Please,’ she added as a genuine plea to his sensitivity, rather than as an afterthought.

‘You sound almost afraid,’ he derided silkily.

Afraid I’ll never be the same again, Alyse qualified silently, hating the exigent sexual chemistry that drew her towards him like a moth to flame.

‘I hate you!’ she flung desperately as he carried her through the lounge, and she was absolutely incensed at the speculative amusement apparent in the depths of his eyes.

In the bedroom he let her slide to her feet, and she was powerless to do anything other than stand perfectly still beneath his dark penetrating gaze.

‘You react like an agitated kitten, all bristling fur and
unsheathed claws.’ His smile was infinitely sensual, his eyes dark and slumbrous as he took her chin between thumb and forefinger to tilt it unmercifully high. ‘It will be worth the scratches you’ll undoubtedly inflict, just to hear you purr.’

‘Egotist,’ she accorded shakily. ‘What makes you think I will?’

He didn’t deign to answer, and there was nothing she could do to avoid his mouth as it took possession of hers in a deliberately sensual onslaught that plundered the very depths of her soul.

With shocking ease he dispensed with her clothes, then his own, and she gave an agonised gasp as he reached for the thin scrap of lace-edged satin covering her breasts.

‘Aleksi—’

‘Don’t?’ he taunted softly, releasing the clasp and letting the bra fall to the carpet.

It was impossible to come to terms with a mixture of elation and fear, so she didn’t even try, aware even as she voiced the protest that there could be no turning back. ‘You can’t mean to do this,’ she said in agonised despair.

His hands cupped the creamy fullness of her breasts with tactile expertise, and the breath locked in her throat when his head descended and his mouth closed over one vulnerable peak. Sensation spiralled from the central core of her being, radiating through her body until she was consumed by an emotion so fiery, so damnably erotic, that it was all she could do not to beg him to assuage the hunger within.

His tasting took on a new dimension as he began to
suckle, using his teeth with such infinite delicacy that it frequently trod a fine edge between pleasure and pain.

Just when she thought she could bear it no more, he relinquished his possession and crossed to render a similar onslaught to its twin.

Unbidden, her fingers sought the thickness of his hair, raking its well-groomed length in barely controlled agitation that didn’t cease when he shifted his attention to her mouth and began subjecting that sensitive cavern to a seeking exploration that gradually became an imitation of the sexual act itself.

Alyse was floating high on a cloud of sensuality so evocative that it was all she could do not to beg him to ease the ache that centred between her thighs, and, as if he was aware of her need, his hand slid down to gently probe the sweet moistness dewing there.

Like a finely tuned instrument her body leapt in response, and she became mindless, an insignificant craft caught in a swirling vortex beyond which she had no control.

It wasn’t until she felt the soft mattress beneath her back that realisation forced its way through the mists of desire, and she could only stare, her eyes wide with slumbrous warmth, as Aleksi discarded his shirt, then his trousers and finally the dark hipster briefs that shielded his masculinity.