The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (157 page)

She returned the receiver to its cradle, then moved towards the door, only to pause as the phone rang again.

At that moment the door swung inwards and she glanced up to see Jace framed in the aperture for an instant before he entered the shop.

No, Rebekah groaned silently, wishing him anywhere else but here,
now
.

‘Aren't you going to answer that?'

The sound of his voice raised all her fine body hairs, and she suppressed the shiver of nerves threatening to visibly shake her slim frame.

Brad
and
Jace? It was too much. Without a word she retraced her steps and snatched up the phone.

‘You sound agitated, darling. Am I finally getting to you?'

‘You're wasting your time, and mine,' Rebekah added, and cut the connection.

‘Problems?'

He couldn't begin to understand the hornets' nest
he'd disturbed, and she took a second to square her shoulders before turning slowly to face him.

Jace didn't like the tension creasing her forehead, the darkness in her eyes, or the edge of pain evident.

‘What are you doing here?'

‘No
hello
?' he drawled, staying exactly where he was. Crowding her right now would be the height of foolishness.

‘I'm about to shut up shop and go home.'

He took a moment to scan the interior before bringing his attention back to her.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?'

‘Go away and leave me alone?' Rebekah posed, and saw his faint smile.

‘I don't consider that as an option.'

The phone rang again, and she chose to ignore it.

‘Want me to take it?' Jace queried smoothly, and saw her face pale. ‘Brad?' He didn't need her confirmation, the shadows dulling her eyes were sufficient.

‘It'll only make things worse if he hears your voice.'

His gaze hardened and his features assumed a grim implacability. ‘How bad is it likely to get?'

You can't begin to know. Except the words never left her lips.

‘Go collect your purse and we'll get out of here,' Jace commanded quietly.

‘You should leave.' Please, she added silently. Can't you see I can't deal with you right now?

‘I will, when you do.'

The insistent ring of the telephone proved the de
ciding factor, and she retrieved her purse, removed the afternoon's takings from the cash register, picked up her keys, then followed him out the door.

Locking up took a few seconds, and she turned towards him. ‘Goodnight.' She stepped around him and began walking to her car, only to have him fall into step beside her.

‘I thought we'd pick up a pizza somewhere.'

‘You do that…solo. I've had a long day.' She unconsciously flexed her shoulders. ‘Yesterday was even longer.' And tomorrow she had two weddings scheduled.

‘You need to eat.'

‘I plan to.' She reached her car, slid in the key and unlocked it. ‘Alone.'

‘In that case, perhaps you wouldn't mind dropping me off at the hotel on your way home. I caught a cab here.'

She retrieved her cellphone and punched in a series of digits, miscalculated one of them, and reached a wrong number.

Jace watched her expressive features, caught the fleeting emotions, and reached forward to open the car door.

‘Who are you afraid of, Rebekah? I can promise not to harm a hair on your head.'

Why did she suddenly feel as if she couldn't breathe? ‘Maybe it's not my head I'm worried about.'

A husky chuckle sounded low in his throat, and he spread his hands in silent surrender. ‘Pizza, Rebekah. That's all. We both need to eat. Why not together?'

She looked at him. ‘That's it? Pizza?'

‘Pizza,' he drawled in acquiescence.

She made a split-second decision she had a feeling she might later regret. ‘I know a place. Get in.'

King's Cross wasn't too far distant, and at this early hour it would be incredibly ordinary. It wasn't until post-midnight the Cross began to show its true colours, with the pimps, prostitutes, touts displaying their talents. In the back streets lay the dives and dens where the less salubrious deals were made. A place where a wrong move could mean a knife in the ribs, or worse.

Already the surroundings were beginning to change.

Graceful old residences were left behind, with small brick cottages appearing, terrace houses, and the element of care began to diminish.

‘I get the feeling you're intent on showing me another side of this beautiful city,' Jace drawled as they neared the Cross.

‘A landmark,' Rebekah corrected. ‘Ana and I ate pizza here a few nights ago.'

‘With Luc's knowledge?'

She began searching for a vacant space to park the car. ‘I imagine she told him.'

Jace checked the flashing neon, the floodlit doorways. ‘Afterwards, rather than before.'

‘You're a snob.'

‘No.' New York contained areas where you put your life on the line in daylight. After dark merely
trebled the danger. ‘I wouldn't want any woman of mine wandering around here after dark.'

‘As long as you're moving,' Rebekah assured with a wicked grin. ‘Standing still for more than a few minutes isn't recommended, unless you want someone to approach and ask your going rate for sex.'

She spotted an empty space and swung into it, then cut the engine.

‘Pizza, you said?'

She led the way to a small shop on the opposite side of the street where the owner's oven-fired pizzas rated as the best she'd ever sampled anywhere. Bright red-and-white-checked tablecloths covered small square tables, empty Chianti bottles held lit candles in various stages of meltdown.

However, the aromas were redolent with spices and garlic, the service warm and friendly, and if you were fortunate enough to gain a window-seat it was a great vantage point to watch the people walk by.

‘Rebekah!
Comè sta?
'

A tall Italian Adonis moved from behind the counter and enveloped her in an affectionate hug. ‘
Bella,
twice in one week?' the man teased. ‘If I didn't know you visit only for the pizza, I might begin to think you fancy me.'

She laughed, a glorious, husky, free sound that caught Jace unawares. The frown that had been evident from the moment he walked into Blooms and Bouquets disappeared, and gone was the tension from her eyes.

‘Angelo.' The mild admonishment held affection, and he shook his head with mock-regret.

‘But I see this is not so,' he said as he moved her to arm's length. ‘For you have brought someone with you.' There was a pause as he examined Jace, and something silent passed between them, then it was gone as he returned his attention to her. ‘If you seek my approval, you have it.'

Jace saw the soft pink that coloured her cheeks as she smiled and shook her head in silent remonstrance.

‘Jace Dimitriades, Angelo Benedetti.'

Angelo extended his hand and Jace shook it. ‘Rebekah and I are friends from way back.
Friends,
' he emphasised quietly. ‘The window table is yours.' His smile broadened as he held Rebekah's gaze. ‘Go take a seat. I have pizza to make.' He moved ahead of them to the table, removed the
reserved
sign, pulled out a chair for Rebekah, indicated the one opposite to Jace, then he crossed behind the counter.

‘I gather acquiring the window table is something of an honour?' Jace inclined.

‘No one sits here without Angelo's personal invitation to do so.'

He picked up the menu and scanned the varieties listed. ‘What do you recommend?'

‘The works,' she said without hesitation. ‘It's something else.'

It was, and when Angelo personally presented the aromatic masterpiece she watched as Jace savoured it with delighted satisfaction.

He fitted right into the atmosphere, spurning cutlery as he demolished the initial piece. ‘Sheer ambrosia.'

‘La dolce vita,'
Rebekah accorded, and went on to reveal, ‘Angelo refuses to get into the pizza-delivery game. If you want to sample his pizza, you have to come here to eat it. You get to drink Chianti or coffee, and watch the world go by.' She offered a warm smile. ‘The total experience.'

Jace picked up another slice and bit into it. ‘Worth it.'

The smile became a husky chuckle. ‘I'm glad you think so.'

He stilled, and his gaze was dark, serious. ‘Are you?'

The query was quietly voiced, but there was something in his underlying tone that brought all her defences to the fore.

He saw the shutters come down on her expression, and the smile faded from her lips. Such a soft mouth, so many fragile emotions. There was a brief moment when he wanted to smash a fist into her ex-husband's face for the damage he'd done. The little information he'd managed to prise from Luc had made him incredibly angry.

The silence stretched between them, and he ate steadily, aware that she pushed her plate to one side.

He could almost see the conscious effort she summoned to move the conversation on to a safe plane.

‘Your trip to Melbourne proved successful?'

‘Yes. I have meetings here early next week, then
it's Brisbane, Cairns, Port Douglas, Brisbane and the Gold Coast.'

Idle conversation. The need for it beat silence and eased the tension steadily building inside her.

‘Whereupon you return to New York.'

‘Yes.'

Nothing explained the sudden pain that pierced her heart, or the sensation of impending loss. What was the matter with her? Jace Dimitriades had no place in her life, any more than she had a place in his. They resided continents apart. Besides, sexual awareness was no basis on which to build…
what
? A relationship?

Dear heaven. Even the thought of sharing sensual intimacy with such a man fired the blood in her veins and sent her nervous system into cataclysmic overload.

Imagining that strong, muscled body naked, his arousal large, hard and pulsing with need. The touch of his mouth on hers, his hands shaping her breasts…

Would he hurt her as Brad had? Take his own satisfaction without any thought for hers? Cruelly taunt her to compensate for his inadequacies?

Somehow she doubted Jace was anything but an experienced and skilled lover. He exuded the confident sensual intensity of a man at ease with himself, and possessed of an intuitive awareness of what it took to please a woman.

How could she explain the yearning deep inside to discover if it was true? To give herself uncondition
ally to his seduction, exult in the pleasure of it as they soared towards the heights of passion together, shared a mutual shattering climax, followed by the infinitely languorous warmth of drifting fingers, the gentle touch of lips to skin…the exquisite liquid feeling that accompanied lovemaking. Very good lovemaking.

‘The pizza is good?'

The sound of Angelo's voice was a stark intrusion and brought her tumbling back to reality. It took a second to marshal her thoughts together and summon a smile.

‘Superb, as always,' she reassured, not quite meeting his steady gaze. She needed several more seconds before she could look at Jace.

‘Can I bring you coffee? Tea?'

‘Tea,' Rebekah ordered. She needed to sleep tonight.

‘Make it two,' Jace added, reaching for his wallet.

‘Mine,' she insisted, and extracted a note from her purse to cover the bill. ‘Don't take his money,' she insisted to Angelo, who laughed with delight and pushed the note towards her.

‘What if I refuse altogether?' He inclined his head towards Rebekah. ‘Tonight is on the house, my friend. For old times' sake.' He turned to Jace and offered a hard glance. ‘Take care of her.'

‘Count on it.' Jace's voice was a silky drawl laced with intent, and drew Angelo's silent approval.

The tea arrived, a fine Ceylon blend Angelo kept
for special customers, and she savoured it with genuine enjoyment.

‘Do you come here often?'

‘Occasionally.'

She liked his hands, the shape and texture of them, their strength. A shiver feathered its way over her skin as she remembered how they felt threading through her hair, capturing her nape the instant before his mouth lowered to hers. Magic. He had the touch, the degree of
tendresse
to melt a woman's heart.

But not hers, she determined with quiet resolve.

‘I'll drop you back to your hotel,' Rebekah offered as they farewelled Angelo before emerging outdoors onto the street pavement.

It was still light, but the sky had acquired the dull patina of approaching dusk. Soon the streetlights would spring on, and the regular patrons of the Cross would begin to appear.

Together they crossed the street to her van, and she ignited the engine then eased into the steady flow of traffic.

‘How will you manage at the shop until Ana returns?' Jace queried, watching her competent handling of the vehicle, the traffic.

‘I was able to get another florist to fill in today, and she's agreeable to work tomorrow.' She drew to a halt at a set of lights. ‘I'm seriously considering asking if she'll work part-time. I'll need to discuss it with Ana.'

‘And Brad?' He slipped that in, because he felt the need to know.

‘I can handle it,' Rebekah assured tightly.

‘And if you can't?' Jace pursued.

She spared him a hard glance as the lights changed up ahead. ‘The legal authorities will do it for me.'

It didn't make him breathe any easier. There was something primitively evil beneath the layers of Brad Somerville's projected sophistication. Obviously well-hidden to have fooled the woman seated beside him.

The cars up front began to move, and she shifted gears, then followed the main arterial road leading to Double Bay.

It was with a sense of relief she pulled into the entrance immediately out front of the Ritz-Carlton, and she looked in silent askance as Jace removed his wallet, extracted a business card, and penned a series of digits before handing it to her.