The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (151 page)

‘Has Luc given you reason to distrust him?'

Rebekah had the tenacity of a terrier unwilling to give up a bone, and Ana closed her eyes in exasperation, then quickly opened them again.

She shrugged her shoulders in a gesture of eloquent indecision. ‘He flies interstate regularly on
business, overseas…New York, London, Paris, Athens. How would I know if anyone joined him there?'

Rebekah's expression became thoughtful. ‘Luc cares for you.'

Ana took another slice of pizza and bit into it.

‘If it weren't for the child—'

‘Oh,
rubbish
. Think about it! He gave you space on the Coast before hauling you home. He could easily have had Dad charged…but he didn't. He's given Celine the flick in no uncertain terms.' She paused for breath. ‘Get real. The man adores you!' She leaned forward and covered her sister's hand with her own. ‘Besides, he's not the type to play around.'

‘Easy to say.'

Rebekah eased back in her chair. ‘I think I'm going to hit you. In fact, I'm darned sure of it!'

Sisterhood was a wonderful thing. Ana summoned a smile. ‘I'll return the favour if ever our positions are reversed, and Jace Dimitriades gets the better of you!'

‘That's a favour going wanting,' Rebekah assured with alacrity.

It was after eight when they entered the cinema complex, and the movie had a feel-good plot, with light-hearted humour and great acting. They emerged at the end of the session, walked to the car, then drove home to sit sipping hot chocolate as they recounted amusing aspects of the film.

There was a text message from Luc on Ana's cell
phone, which she chose to ignore. Received while she was in the cinema, it was brief to the point of abruptness.

If he wanted to speak to her, he could ring again.

He did, just as she slipped into bed.

‘You didn't return my call.'

‘Well, hello to you, too,' she responded with pseudo-politeness.

‘I didn't wake you?'

She almost made a facetious reply, then thought better of it. ‘No.'

‘I rang earlier. Petros said you were out.'

‘Eating pizza at the Cross, then taking in a movie.'

She could almost feel the silence weighing in from the other end of the line. ‘If that's a joke, it's a bad one.'

‘Rebekah has a friend who makes the most divine pizza.'

‘At the Cross,' he chided with chilling softness.

She was beginning to enjoy this. ‘Uh-huh.'

‘I trust you won't be going there again?'

‘We might.'

‘You're having fun with this, aren't you?'

Her smile was deliciously wicked. ‘Oh, yes.'

‘Just remember I'll be home day after tomorrow,' Luc declared silkily. ‘Will you be so brave then?'

‘Of course. You don't frighten me in the least.'

‘Careful,
pedhaki mou
.'

‘Always. Goodnight.' She ended the call and switched off the phone.

‘D
ANGER
at twenty paces,' Rebekah warned,
sotto voce
.

Ana glanced up and saw Celine bearing down on her. Here we go again, she accorded silently. The witch from Rose Bay.

‘I suppose you think you're clever.'

‘Another problem, Celine?'

The woman's eyes glittered with anger. ‘What right do you have to check up on your customers?'

‘Any complaint regarding delivery is always investigated,' Ana said smoothly. ‘You accused Blooms and Bouquets of making an error and rescinded payment of your account.'

‘That allows you to badger people?'

There was no doubt this was going to get nasty. ‘Badger, Celine? My sister and I checked both apartment addresses personally. The lady at apartment 7, 5 Wilson Place confirmed she'd received a delivery not meant for her. We were able to ascertain apartment 5, 7 Wilson Place is owned by you.'

‘What nonsense. Why would I send flowers to a vacant apartment?'

‘Why, indeed?'

Celine's features became a study in white fury. ‘Are you accusing me of foul play?'

Ana had had enough. ‘Your words, Celine. Not mine.'

She didn't see it coming, and it happened so unexpectedly, so quickly, there was no time for evasive action.

In one swift movement Celine swept a large glass vase off the counter.

It knocked against Ana's arm, sending a shower of water over her thighs, and shattered on impact with the concrete floor, sending shards of glass in all directions.

What came next was unbelievable, and she gasped out loud as Celine shoved her so hard she lost her balance, skidded on the wet floor, and went down in seemingly slow motion.

‘You
bitch
,' Rebekah hissed angrily, and Ana registered the sound of a palm connecting with flesh.

The next instant Rebekah hunkered down, her face pale as she checked for injuries.

Ana raised stunned eyes, then followed her sister's gaze. There was glass everywhere, blood streamed from a gash on her arm, another on her leg, her hand where she'd attempted to soften her fall.

‘Stay there,' Rebekah instructed. ‘Don't move. I'm ringing the ambulance.'

Oh, dear God…the fall…could she miscarry? No, surely not. It hadn't been a hard fall. ‘An ambulance is definite overkill. It's only a few cuts. Get some
paper towels, and I'll clean myself up.' Initial surprise had begun to wane, and in its place was shocked disbelief.

‘Petros, then.' Rebekah was already dialling, and seconds later she spoke rapidly, then replaced the receiver. ‘He's leaving immediately. Now, let's get you into a chair, then I'll attempt to clean up this mess. But first,' she said with angry determination, ‘I get to take a photo to use as evidence.'

‘You're kidding me, right?'

‘No.'

It took only brief seconds, then she caught hold of Rebekah's outstretched hands and stepped gingerly over to the chair. Broken glass crunched beneath her shoes, and she stood still as her sister brushed glass from her clothes.

‘Are you OK?'

It hadn't been a heavy fall, and she said so. ‘Apart from a few cuts, yes.'

‘Sit down, and stay there while I get rid of all this.' She plucked disposable towelling into sheets and carefully stemmed the flow of blood.

Minutes later the glass was swept into a dustpan, and the vacuum cleaner sucked up any remaining splinters. A few swirls with the mop to remove the water puddles and everything was restored to normal.

Petros appeared soon after, and Ana registered he must have broken the speed limit to arrive so quickly. He took one look, and his eyes went black with anger.

‘I'll take you to the hospital.'

‘Home, Petros. It's only a few scratches.'

‘The hospital, Ana,' he reiterated firmly. Without pausing, he scooped her into his arms, ignored her protest, and spoke to Rebekah over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. ‘I'll ring as soon as the doctor has attended to her.'

It was, she registered with amusement, the first time he'd used her Christian name. Later, she'd tease him about it. But for now she was content to have him take charge.

The Mercedes was double-parked at the kerb, the passenger door open, and he lowered her into the seat.

‘Petros, I didn't know you cared.' Flippancy was the only way to go, and she glimpsed a muscle clench at the edge of his jaw before he straightened and moved round the car to take the wheel.

The hospital staff were efficient. Excruciatingly so. Petros hovered, then retreated, only to reappear minutes later.

Two gashes required sutures. They examined her from top to toe, did an ultrasound, admitted her for observation, and the obstetrician conducted an examination.

Petros stood guard in the room, and only left it on instruction from the sister-in-charge.

‘You're fine, my dear.' The obstetrician reassured, ‘The baby is fine. No sign of foetal distress.'

‘I can go home?'

‘Tomorrow.' He offered a faint smile. ‘We'll keep you in overnight as a precaution.'

Why did she get the feeling this was a conspiracy?

As soon as he left she rang the shop, spoke to Rebekah, then she settled back against the cushions and reflected on Celine's actions, retracing to the moment the woman entered the shop.

Had Celine meant to cause deliberate harm? Or was it merely a heat-of-the-moment thing? It was difficult to judge.

A nurse brought in tea and a few courtesy magazines, followed soon after by the sister-in-charge, who queried her level of comfort.

Lunch came and went, and reaction must have taken its toll, for she woke from a light doze to find Luc seated in the chair beside her bed.

‘What are you doing here?'

He rose to his feet and moved to her side. His faint smile held warmth, but there was something evident in his eyes she didn't care to define.

‘Is that any way to greet your husband?' He lowered his head and closed his mouth over hers in a light, evocative kiss, lingered, then he took it deeper in a desperate need to feel her response.

Did she have any idea what he'd gone through in the last few hours? Petros's call had shattered him, totally, then cold, hard anger set in as he swiftly organised his return to Sydney. Something that was achieved within minutes, then he'd simply walked out of a meeting, taken the car one of his colleagues
immediately made available, and headed to the airport.

He made a few calls from his cellphone, called in favours, enlisted the services of the city's top obstetrician, checked with the hospital, then he rang Celine.

His eyes hardened as he recalled her sickening coquetry, the shocked surprise, followed by consternation over the accusations he levelled at her. Then, when he left her in no doubt as to his intended action, there was anger and vitriol.

The hour's flight had seemed like an eternity, and he'd instructed Petros to sit on the speed limit between the airport and hospital.

He already had the obstetrician's report, but he desperately needed visual reassurance.

No one had halted his passage through Reception, nor did anyone query his presence as he bypassed the lift and took the stairs. At the first-floor nursing station the sister-in-charge opened her mouth in protest, then quickly closed it again as she witnessed the grim determination evident.

He didn't pause when he reached Ana's suite, and simply pushed open the door with clear disregard for a courtesy knock. And came to a halt at the sight of her propped against a bank of pillows.

Her head was turned slightly to one side, and her eyes were closed in sleep.

For a long moment he just stood there, drinking in her features in repose. It took tremendous will-power
to restrain himself from crossing to the bed and lifting her into his arms.

He almost did, and would have if he thought the movement wouldn't hurt her.

Instead, he'd settled himself in the chair and waited for her to wake.

‘Hmm,' Ana murmured as his mouth left hers and trailed up to brush against her temple. ‘Nice.'

She could almost sense his smile, and a slow warmth heated her skin. This close she could breathe in the scent of him, the subtle cologne meshing with a male muskiness that was his alone.

He brushed his lips across her forehead, lingered, then pressed one eyelid closed before slipping down to the edge of her mouth.

She angled her head a little and parted her lips against his own in a kiss that promised, but didn't take as it became frankly sensual, tasting, probing, then easing back to graze a little.

When at last he lifted his head she could only look at him in bemusement. ‘Maybe I should become a hospital patient more often.'

‘Not if I can help it.'

He looked gorgeous, so intensely male, so much a part of her. It seemed important to endorse the obstetrician's reassurance. ‘The baby's fine.'

Luc lifted a hand and brushed light fingers across her cheek. ‘What about
you, agape mou
?' His hand moved to cup her chin, tilting it a little. ‘Want to tell me what happened this morning?'

Her gaze held his, clear and unblinking. ‘It's over.'

‘Yes. It is.' He traced the pad of one finger over her lower lip.

‘I have no doubt Petros has relayed his version.'

‘Indeed.' He felt her mouth tremble, and his eyes darkened. ‘Rebekah, also.' His hand slid round to cup her nape, gently massaging the back of her neck and into the base of her skull. ‘I can promise Celine will never get close to you again.'

It must be reaction, but there was something happening here…something deep and meaningful. Except it was just out of reach, and she couldn't quite grasp hold of it.

He cared, without doubt. But was it merely fondness for someone he held in affectionate regard?

‘You're the one she wants,' Ana said simply. ‘And I'm in the way.'

‘The only one in the way is Celine.' His voice held a dangerous quality.

The door swished open and a nurse collected the chart, then crossed to the bed to take Ana's vital signs. Minutes later they were punctiliously recorded, and she left the suite to continue her round.

‘Is there anything you need?'

Oh, my, how did she answer that? She lifted a hand, then dropped it again, and shook her head. ‘Petros packed a few things and brought them in.' She offered him a winsome smile. ‘He called me
Ana
for the first time ever.'

‘Quite an achievement.' He skimmed a hand over her shoulder. ‘Are you in any pain?'

Not the physical kind. No matter how she attempted to understand Celine's driven action, a lingering shock remained. She wasn't concerned for herself, but her unborn child was something else.

She closed her eyes in the hope she could also close her mind to the woman's vicious jealousy-motivated action.

‘Go home, Luc,' she bade quietly.

‘Not a chance.' He crossed to the chair and folded his length into it.

When next Ana looked he was still there, and she shook her head in silent remonstrance. Nursing staff came and went with monotonous regularity, and the arrival of the dinner trolley with an extra meal for Luc brought a further protest.

‘There's no need for you to stay.'

‘Indulge me.'

This was too much. He was too much. ‘I haven't heard your cellphone ring once.'

‘It's turned off.'

The in-room television provided visual entertainment, and Luc finally conceded to leave long after visiting hours were over.

Ana was unaware of the private security guard posted in the corridor out of her sight, or that Luc had the nursing station on alert.

It was undoubtedly over the top, but he didn't give
a damn. No one toyed with him or one of his own without paying the price.

He reached his car, slid in behind the wheel, and eased it out from the hospital car park. There were other issues that were long overdue. Way overdue, he amended grimly.

First, he'd reorganise his business interests and take Ana to the beach house on the Central Coast.

Petros was hovering inside the door when Luc entered the house. ‘Ms Ana is well?'

‘Yes, thank God. She'll be home tomorrow.'

‘Nasty business.'

Luc shot the older man a level glance. ‘It's been taken care of.'

‘One would hope so.'

There was no need for further words. Luc's influence was a known entity. As an enemy, he was deadly.

A slight smile tugged the edges of Luc's mouth. ‘She told me you called her
Ana
.' One eyebrow slanted. ‘Quite a departure from your usual formality.'

‘I shall see it doesn't happen again.'

‘I imagine she'll never let you forget it.'

Petros allowed himself a warm smile. ‘No, I don't suppose she will.'