The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (134 page)

There was a potent beauty in his lean well-muscled frame, a virility that sent the blood coursing through her veins in fearful anticipation, and she unconsciously raised her gaze to his, silently pleading as he joined her on the bed.

Her lips parted tremulously as his eyes conducted a lingering appraisal of their softly swollen contours,
before slipping down to the rose-tipped breasts that burgeoned beneath his gaze as if in silent recognition of his touch.

Her limbs seemed consumed by languorous inertia, and she made no protest as he began a light, trailing exploration of her waist, the soft indentation of her navel, then moved to the pale hair curling softly between her thighs.

A sharp intake of breath changed to shocked disbelief as his lips followed the path of his hand in a brazen degree of intimacy she found impossible to condone.

Liquid fire coursed through her body, arousing each separate sensory nerve-end until she moaned an entreaty for him to desist. Except that nothing she said made any difference, and in a desperate attempt to put an end to the havoc he was creating she sank her fingers into his hair and tugged—
hard.

It had not the slightest effect, and her limbs threshed in violent rejection until he caught hold of her hands and pinned them to her sides, effectively using his elbows to still the wild movements of her legs.

For what seemed an age she lay helpless beneath his deliberate invasion, hating him with a fervour that was totally unmatched, until, shifting his body weight, he effected a deep penetrating thrust that brought an involuntary gasp from her lips as delicate tissues stretched, then filled with stinging pain.

She was so caught up with it she didn’t register the brief explicit curse that husked from Aleksi’s throat, and she tossed her head from side to side to escape his mouth before it settled over hers, gentle, coaxing, and inflexibly possessive as she strove to free herself.

Without thought she balled her hands into fists and
hit out at him, striking anywhere she could, then she became impossibly angry when it had no effect whatsoever.

The only weapons she had left were her teeth and her nails, and she used both, shamelessly biting his tongue, at the same time raking her nails down his ribcage, achieving some satisfaction from his harsh intake of breath.

‘Witch,’ he growled, lifting his mouth fractionally, and she cried out in agonised rejection.

‘
Bastard!
I hate you,
hate
you, do you understand?’

His hands caught hers in a punishing grip and held them immobile above her head, and she began to struggle in earnest, fear lending her unknown strength as she fought to be free of him.

‘Stop it, little fool,’ he chastised, holding her with ease. ‘You’re only making it worse for yourself.’

Angry dark blue eyes speared his as she vented furiously, ‘Get away from me, damn you!’

‘Not yet.’

‘Haven’t you done enough?’ It was a tortured accusation dredged up from the depths of her soul, and yet it failed to have the desired effect. ‘Aleksi!’ She would have begged if she had to, and it didn’t help that he knew.

‘Be still, little wildcat,’ he soothed, easily holding both her hands with one of his as he gently pushed stray tendrils of hair back behind her ear. Then his mouth brushed her temple, pressed each eyelid closed in turn, before trailing down to the edge of her lips. With a touch as light as a butterfly’s wing he teased their curved outline before slipping to the hollow at the base of her neck.

‘Please don’t.’

‘What a contrary plea!’ he murmured against her
throat, and she could sense the smile in his voice. ‘Just relax, and trust me.’

‘Why should I?’ she cried in an impassioned entreaty, only wanting to be free of him.

‘The hurting is over, I promise.’

‘Then why won’t you leave me alone?’ Her eyes seared his, then became trapped beneath the latent sensuality, the sheer animal magnetism he exuded, and almost in primeval recognition an answering chord struck deep within, quivering into hesitant life.

‘This is why,’ husked Aleksi, covering her mouth gently with his own as he began to move, slowly at first, creating a throbbing ache that swelled until she became caught up in the deep rhythmic pattern of his possession.

Impossibly sensuous, he played her with the skilled mastery of a virtuoso, bringing forth without any difficulty at all the soft startled cries of her pleasure, and the hands that had raked his flesh now cajoled in silent supplication as she accepted everything he chose to give.

The climax, when it came, was unexpected and tumultuous, an entire gamut of emotions so exquisite it defied description in that first initial experience, and afterwards she was too spent to attempt an accurate analysis.

With a return to normality came a degree of self-loathing, and the re-emergence of hatred for the man who had instigated her emotional catalyst. She became aware of her own body, the soft bruising inside and out, and the increasing need to escape, albeit temporarily, from the large bed and the indomitable man who occupied it.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

It was difficult to stand naked before his gaze, although innate dignity lifted her head to a proud angle as she turned at the sound of that quiet drawling voice.

‘To have a bath,’ she responded evenly, and saw his eyes narrow fractionally before she moved towards the en suite bathroom.

Once inside, she closed the door, then pressed the plug into position in the large spa-bath and released water from the taps.

Within minutes steam clouded the room, and she added plenty of bath-oil to the cascading water before stepping into its warm depth.

Aleksi walked into the room as Alyse was about to reach for a sponge, and she was so incensed at his intrusion she threw the sponge without thought, watching as it connected with his chest.

His soft husky laughter as he calmly stepped into the bath to sit facing her was the last straw, and she flew at him in a rage, flailing her fists against his shoulders, his arms, anywhere she could connect, until he caught hold of her wrists with a steel-like grip.

‘Enough, Alyse.’ His voice was hard and inflexible, and she looked at him with stormy eyes, ready to do further battle given the slightest opportunity.

‘Can’t you see I want to be alone?’ It was a cry from the heart, and to her horror she felt her lower lip tremble with damnable reaction. She was physically and emotionally spent, and there was the very real threat of tears as she determined not to let him see the extent of her fragility.

Eyes that were dark and impossibly slumbrous held her own captive in mesmerised fascination, and helpless
frustration welled up inside her as her chin tilted at an angry angle. ‘Must you look at me like that?’

‘We just made love,’ he drawled with latent humour. ‘How would you have me look at you?’

‘I hated it!’ Alyse flung incautiously.

One eyebrow rose with sardonic cynicism. ‘You hated the fact that it was
I
who awakened you to the power of your own sensuality.’ His lips moved to form a twisted smile. ‘And you hate yourself for achieving sexual pleasure with someone you profess to dislike.’

The truth of his words was something she refused to concede. ‘You behaved like a barbaric—
animal
!’

‘Who took his own pleasure without any concern for yours?’ he demanded with undisguised mockery.

Colour stained her cheeks, and her lashes fluttered down to form a protective veil against his discerning scrutiny. ‘I’ll never forgive you,’ she declared with quiet vehemence.
‘Never.’

‘Spoken like an innocent,’ Aleksi declared with sardonic amusement, and her eyes flew open to reveal shards of brilliant sapphire.

‘Not any more, thanks to you!’

Lifting a hand, he brushed his fingers along the edge of her jaw. ‘I’m almost inclined to query why.’

Alyse reared back from that light teasing touch as if it was flame, wanting to scream and rage against his deliberate seduction, the sheer force of his sensual expertise. Except she was damned if she’d give him the satisfaction. Instead, she said bitterly, ‘I would have preferred a less brutal initiation.’

‘Yet after the pain came pleasure, did it not?’

Her eyes glittered in angry rejection. ‘Never having
experienced anything to compare it with, I can’t comment.’

His soft husky laughter was almost her undoing, and she stood to her feet, reached for a towel, then stepped quickly out of the bath, uncaring that he followed her actions.

It was then she saw the long scratches scoring his ribcage, and she turned away, feeling sickened that she could have inflicted such physical injury.

In the bedroom she collected her nightgown and donned it, then turned hesitantly as Aleksi entered the room.

‘You’ll sleep here with me, Alyse. And don’t argue,’ he added with quiet emphasis as her lips parted to form a protest.

Before she had the opportunity to move more than a few steps towards the sitting-room he had reached her side, and her struggles were ineffectual as he calmly lifted her into his arms and carried her to the large bed.

‘I don’t want to sleep with you,’ she said fiercely, pushing against him as he slid in between the covers.

‘Maybe not,’ he drawled, settling her easily into the curve of his body. ‘But I insist you do.’

‘You damned dictatorial tyrant!’

‘My dear Alyse, I can think of a far more pleasurable way to deploy your energy than by merely wasting it in fighting me.’

She froze at his unmistakable implication. ‘I won’t be used and abused whenever you—’

‘Feel the urge?’ he completed sardonically. ‘I have a twelve-hour day ahead of me, and right now all I have in mind is a few hours’ sleep. Unless you have other ideas, which I’ll gladly oblige, I suggest you simply relax.’

‘Oh, go to hell!’ she was stung into retorting as he reached out and switched off the bedside lamp.

Seconds later Alyse was aware of his warm breath against her temple, and she lay perfectly still, willing the nervous tautness in her body to ease, then slowly her eyelids flickered down as sheer exhaustion gradually took its toll and sleep provided blissful oblivion.

T
HE ENSUING FEW
days provided an opportunity for Alyse to become better acquainted with Rachel, for each morning Aleksi’s stepmother arrived in time to help with Georg’s bath, then they would each take it in turns to feed him his bottle before settling him back into his cot.

There was time for a leisurely morning tea and a chat before eating a light midday lunch, after which Georg was fed, resettled, and placed into Melanie’s care for the afternoon while they explored one of the many shopping complexes scattered along the Gold Coast’s tourist strip.

Alexandros joined his son in a daily round of building site inspections, meetings and consultations, from which they returned together each evening.

Dinner was inevitably an informal meal, with both women sharing the preparation, and Alyse felt faintly envious of the friendship Aleksi shared with his parents. It was genuine and uncontrived, and while part of her enjoyed sharing their company, another constantly warned against forming too close an attachment for two people who, after her intended separation and divorce from Aleksi, would no longer find it possible to regard her with any affection. Somehow such a thought caused her immeasurable pain.

The nights were something else, for in Aleksi’s arms she became increasingly uninhibited, to such an extent that she began to hate her own traitorous body almost as much as she assured herself that she hated
him.

Arrangements for the party Aleksi insisted they host to celebrate their marriage proved remarkably simple, with a series of telephone calls to a variety of guests, and the hiring of a reputable catering firm.

All that remained for Alyse to do was to arrange for Melanie to babysit, and select something suitable to wear.

While the former was remarkably simple, choosing a dress took considerable time and care, although Rachel’s wholehearted approval proved invaluable, and the silk and lace ensemble in deep cream highlighted the texture of her skin and the brilliant sapphire-blue of her eyes. The bodice was demure with elbow-length sleeves, with a fitted waist that accentuated her small waist, and the skirt fell in graceful folds to a fashionable length.

The guests were due to begin arriving at eight, and Alyse settled Georg upstairs just after six, then she hastily showered, taking extreme care with her hair and make-up.

Nerves were hell and damnation, she decided silently, cursing softly at the unsteadiness of her hand, and she cleansed her eyelids and started all over again.

She wished fervently that the evening were over and done with. Aleksi’s friends would be super-critical of his new wife, and she had little doubt she would be dissected piece by piece from the top of her head to the tips of her elegant designer shoes.

An hour later she stood back from the mirror and viewed her overall appearance with a tiny frown.

‘Problems?’

She turned at once at the sound of that deep drawling voice, noting that Aleksi displayed an inherent sophistication attired in a dark suit, white shirt and sombre tie, and she envied him the air of relaxed calm he was able to exude without any seeming effort at all.

Her eyes clouded with anxiety. ‘What do you think?’

He took his time answering, and she suffered his slow appraisal with increasing apprehension.

‘Beautiful,’ he told her, lifting a hand to tilt her chin fractionally. His smile held a mesmerising quality, and she ran the tip of her tongue along the edge of her lower lip in a gesture of nervousness. ‘I’m almost sorry I have to share you with a room full of people.’ His eyes gleamed darkly. ‘An intimate evening
à deux
would be more appropriate.’

Her lashes swept up in a deliberate attempt at guile. ‘And waste this dress? It cost a fortune.’

His mouth curved with humour. ‘I’m impressed, believe me.’ Releasing her chin, he caught hold of her hand. ‘Melanie is already upstairs with Georg and an enviable collection of law books. Rachel and Alexandros have arrived. The caterers have everything under control, and there’s time for a quiet drink before the first of our guests are due to arrive.’

Alyse wondered if it was too late to opt out, and some of her indecision must have been apparent in her expression, for he bent forward and brushed his lips against her temple.

‘It’s no big deal, Alyse. In any case, I’ll be here.’

‘Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of,’ she said with
undue solemnity, and saw his smile widen with sardonic cynicism.

‘Ah, this is the Alyse I know best.’

Suddenly flip, she responded, ‘I wasn’t aware there was more than one of me.’

His husky laughter brought a soft tinge of colour to her cheeks, and she made no demure as he led the way out into the lounge.

Everything appeared superb, Alyse decided a few hours later as she drifted politely from one group of guests to another. Background music filtered through a sophisticated electronic system, and hired staff circulated among the guests with professional ease, proffering trays of tastefully prepared morsels of food. Champagne flowed from a seemingly inexhaustible supply, and she had been introduced to so many people it was impossible to remember more than a few of their names. Beautiful, elegantly attired women, who seemed discreetly intent on discovering the latest in social gossip, while the man stood in segregated groups talking business—primarily their own as related to the state of the country’s current economy.

‘Darling, you really
must
come along,’ a gorgeous blonde insisted, and Alyse brought her attention back to the small group of women who had commandeered her attention. ‘It’s a worthwhile charity. The models are superb and the clothes will be absolutely stunning.’ Perfect white teeth gleamed between equally perfectly painted red lips, and the smile portrayed practised sincerity. ‘Annabel will be there, Chrissie, Kate, and Marta. You’ll sit with us, of course.’

‘Can I let you know?’ Alyse managed politely, and saw the ice-blue eyes narrow fractionally.

‘Of course. Aleksi has my number.’

Within seconds she was alone again, but not for long.

‘Do you need rescuing?’

A warm smile curved the edges of her mouth at the welcome intrusion of her mother-in-law. ‘How did you guess?’

‘Everything is going beautifully, my dear,’ Rachel complimented. ‘You’re doing very well,’ she added gently, and Alyse sobered slightly, although her smile didn’t falter for a second.

‘I’m the cynosure of all eyes. Circumspectly assessed, analysed, and neatly categorised—rather like a prize piece of merchandise. Will I pass muster, do you think?’

‘With flying colours,’ Rachel told her, and Alyse could have genuinely hugged her.

‘Ah, an ally,’ she breathed gratefully. ‘It seems I should join numerous committees, play the requisite twice weekly game of tennis, frequent daily aerobic workouts, attend weekly classes in exotic flower arrangement, and become part of a circle who gather for social luncheons.’ A wicked gleam lit her expressive eyes. ‘What hours left free in the day are advisably spent visiting a beauty salon, shopping, or, importantly, organising the next luncheon, dinner party, or simply the informal get-together for Sunday brunch.’

‘You don’t aspire to joining the society treadmill?’

‘Not to any great extent.’ Her shoulders lifted slightly in an elegant shrug. ‘A few luncheons might be fun. A stunning blonde whose name escapes me issued an invitation to a fashion parade held at Sanctuary Cove on Tuesday. Perhaps we could go together?’

‘Lovely,’ the older woman enthused. ‘It will give
Alexandros an opportunity to spend a day on the golf course.’

Alyse let her gaze wander round the large room, noting idly that the various guests gave every appearance of enjoying themselves. Although who wouldn’t, she thought wryly, when provided with fine food and wine, and glittering company? The women dripped diamonds, and several wore mink, elegantly styled jackets slung with apparent carelessness over slim designer-clad shoulders.

‘Do you know many of the people here?’ she queried tentatively.

‘Most of the men are business associates, with their various wives or girlfriends,’ Rachel revealed with a sympathetic smile. ‘The glamorous blonde who last engaged you in conversation is Serita Hubbard—her husband is a very successful property speculator. The brunette talking to Serita is Kate, the daughter of one of Aleksi’s best friends—that’s Paul, her father, deep in conversation with Aleksi and Alexandros.’ Rachel paused, tactfully drawing Alyse’s attention to a stunning couple on the far side of the room. ‘Dominic Rochas, and his sister Solange. Together they represent a highly reputable firm of interior designers.’

Tall, slim and beautifully dressed, they could easily have passed as models for an exclusive fashion house, Alyse decided without envy. Somehow they didn’t seem real, and instead were merely players portraying an expected part on the stage of life.

‘Given time, I’m sure I’ll get to know them all,’ she ventured quietly.

‘Aleksi and Georg are very fortunate to have you,’ Rachel complimented softly.

With a hand that shook slightly Alyse picked up her glass and savoured its contents in the hope that the excellent champagne would calm her nerves. It was all too apparent that Rachel held fond hopes for the apparent affection between her stepson and his new bride to blossom and eventually bloom into love.

Something that Aleksi seemed to deliberately foster by ensuring his glance lingered a few seconds too long, augmenting it with the touch of his hand on her arm, at her waist, not to mention the lazy indulgence he accorded her on numerous occasions in the presence of his parents.

‘Put several business friends together in the same room,’ a familiar voice drawled at her elbow, ‘and inevitably the conversation drifts away from social pleasantries.’

Talk of the devil! Alyse turned her head slowly towards Aleksi and gave him a brilliant smile. ‘I hardly noticed your absence.’

‘I think that could be termed an indirect admonition,’ Alexandros declared with humour as he directed his wife a musing glance. ‘Yes?’

‘Alyse and I have been enjoying each other’s company,’ Rachel acknowledged with considerable diplomacy.

‘Aleksi
darling
!’ an incredibly warm voice gushed with the barest hint of an accent. ‘We’re impossibly late, but Tony got held up in Brisbane, and we simply
flew
down. Say you forgive us?’

Alyse sensed the effervescent laughter threatening to burst out from the large-framed woman whose entire bearing could only be described as
majestic.
A dark purple silk trouser-suit with voluminous matching knee-length
jacket, long trailing scarves and an abundance of jewellery completed an ensemble that on anyone else would have looked ludicrous.

‘Siobhan!’ Aleksi’s smile was genuinely warm as he accepted her embrace. ‘Tony. Allow me to introduce my wife, Alyse.’

Alyse immediately became the focus of two pairs of eyes, one set of which was femininely shrewd yet totally lacking in calculation.

‘She looks perfect, darling,’ Siobhan pronounced softly, and Alyse had the uncanny feeling she had been subjected to some kind of test and had unwittingly passed. ‘Is she?’

Aleksi’s eyes gleamed with silent humour. ‘Incredibly so.’

‘Siobhan, you’re outrageous,’ her husband drawled in resignation. ‘I imagine the poor girl is almost witless with nerves.’

Wonderfully warm dark eyes gleamed as they held hers. ‘Are you?’ asked Siobhan.

‘Like a lamb in a den of lions,’ Alyse admitted with a wry smile.

Mellifluous laughter flowed richly from Siobhan’s throat. ‘Several of the female gender present undoubtedly are, my dear. Especially where your gorgeous hunk of a husband is concerned.’

‘I suppose there must be a certain fascination for his dark brooding charm,’ Alyse considered with a devilish gleam, and Siobhan grinned, totally unabashed.

‘He’s a sexy beast, darling. To some, it’s almost a fatal attraction.’

Alyse merely smiled, and Siobhan said softly, ‘How delightful—you’re shy!’

‘A fascinating quality,’ Aleksi agreed, taking hold of Alyse’s hand and threading his fingers through her own.

She tried to tug her hand away, and felt his fingers tighten in silent warning. ‘Perhaps we could get together for dinner soon? Now, if you’ll excuse us, we really must circulate. Enjoy yourselves,’ he bade genially.

It was impossible to protest, and Alyse allowed Aleksi to lead her from one group to another in the large room, pausing for five minutes, sometimes ten, as they engaged in conversation. Georg’s existence had precipitated a marriage that had aroused speculative conjecture, and by the time they had come full circle her facial muscles felt tight from maintaining a constant smile, and her nerves were raw beneath an abundance of thinly veiled curiosity.

‘Another drink?’ asked Aleksi.

Dared she? Somehow it seemed essential to appear to be in total command, and she had merely picked a few morsels from each course during dinner and barely nibbled from the abundance of food constantly offered by hired staff throughout the evening. ‘I’d love some coffee.’

An eyebrow slanted in quizzical query. ‘I can’t tempt you with champagne-spiked orange juice?’ His gaze was direct and vaguely analytical, and Alyse was unable to suppress the faint quickening of her pulse.

He had the strangest effect on her equilibrium, making her aware of a primitive alchemy, a dramatic pull of the senses almost beyond her comprehension, for it didn’t seem possible to be able to physically enjoy sex with someone she actively disliked. Hated, she amended, unwilling to accord him much favour. Yet he projected an enviable aura of power, a distinctive
mesh of male charisma and sensuality that alerted the interest of women—a primeval recognition that made her feel uncommonly resentful.

‘I’d prefer coffee,’ she responded with forced lightness, and he laughed, a deep, husky sound that sent shivers scudding down the length of her spine.

‘The need for a clear head?’ His teeth gleamed white for an instant, then became hidden beneath the curve of his mouth.

‘Yes,’ she admitted without prevarication.