The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (237 page)

Raoul turned to greet Emma, who, an innocent traitor, appeared delighted not only to see him, but excited at the prospect of being driven in a different car.

A large late-model sedan, Stephanie saw at once. ‘I'll need to get Emma's booster seat,' she indicated, and crossed to the garage. ‘She's under the legal age to be able to travel without it.' One of the reasons I would have preferred to use my own car, she added silently, then caught Raoul's perceptive look, and knew he wasn't fooled in the slightest.

Three more minutes, and their cars would have passed in the street. He wanted to shake her. Independence in a woman was a fine thing, but this particular young woman was intent on carrying it too far.

Raoul drove with care, traversing the northbound highway with the ease of a man well used to handling both left-and right-hand drive.

Emma's excited childish chatter precluded the need to search for conversation, and Stephanie experienced a mixture of apprehension and trepidation
as Raoul swept the car into the underground parking lot beneath the Palazzo Versace.

Save your nerves for a few hours' time when you leave, she admonished silently. Although with luck, Raoul would indulge in a few glasses of wine during dinner, and she could insist on taking a taxi home.

Two hours, three at the most, then she could leave, social obligation complete, and thereafter contact with Bruno Farelli would be restricted to office hours and confined to business matters.

Some hope, she realized with a sinking heart, as the evening progressed.
Luck
wasn't on her side, in any respect.

Emma and Lucia, with the natural instinct of children, bonded immediately. To the extent it seemed as if they'd known each other from the cradle.

Adriana's warmth and sparkling humor made it impossible to retain a polite distance. Both she and Bruno were friendly convivial hosts who went to great pains to ensure Stephanie felt at ease.

They would have succeeded handsomely if it hadn't been for Raoul's presence. For it was
he
who set her nerves on edge. He who caused her heart to beat faster as she forced herself to sample the various courses, sip a little wine, and converse with apparent ease.

Did any one of them realize just how tense she was beneath the relaxed facade? Could anyone detect the way her pulse thudded at the base of her throat? Or how her body tingled with electrifying awareness because of the man seated at her side?

The food was superb, she was certain of it, except her taste buds appeared to have gone on strike.

This was madness. A divine insanity that had no base in her reality.

How long before she could escape? There was dessert still to come, followed by coffee. Another hour?

‘Which theme park would you recommend for Lucia's benefit?' Adriana queried. ‘We are only on the Coast for such a short time.'

‘Dreamworld is wonderful,' Stephanie answered automatically. ‘And Seaworld. Each have various rides and attractions. I've taken Emma to both, and while she enjoyed Seaworld, Dreamworld was her favorite.'

‘Bruno has Saturday free. We'd love you and Emma to join us. The girls get on well together, and it would be so nice for Lucia to have Emma's company.'

‘Dreamworld,' Emma parroted with excitement. ‘Please, Mommy.'

‘Si,'
Lucia echoed. ‘Dreamworld.'

‘English, Lucia,' Adriana admonished gently.

‘Perhaps Stephanie already has plans for the weekend,' Raoul indicated, offering her a silent challenge to refuse.

‘Saturday is fine,' Stephanie answered evenly in a determined effort to prove she wouldn't rise to his bait. ‘Thank you. We'd be delighted to join you.'

Adriana looked pleased as she stood and gathered up the dinner plates. ‘I'll get dessert. I hope you like tiramisu?'

‘Love it,' Stephanie assured. ‘Can I help with anything?'

‘You're very kind, but everything is organized.'

Coffee followed the superb dessert, and it was almost nine when Stephanie indicated she must leave.

‘It's been a lovely evening,' she said warmly, extending her thanks. ‘I'll look forward to Saturday.' She meant it, for Adriana was delightful, and Emma would love sharing the adventures of Dreamworld with Lucia.

‘Let me have your telephone number.' Adriana beckoned for her to cross to an escritoire, where she extracted pen and paper. ‘I'll ring and arrange a time to meet.'

Stephanie withdrew her cell phone. ‘I'll call a taxi.'

Adriana gave her a thoughtful glance, and opted to remain quiet.

A few minutes, the dispatcher relayed, as a taxi had just dropped someone off at the Sheraton.

Collecting Emma, bidding her hosts good-night, was achieved in minimum time.

‘Cancel the taxi,' Raoul instructed with deadly quiet as they made their way toward the lift.

‘No.'

His expression hardened, and his eyes resembled dark gray slate. ‘Cancel, Stephanie,' he voiced quietly. ‘Or I will.'

She shot him a cool glare, which changed to scandalized surprise as he calmly took the cell phone from her hand, pressed Redial, and canceled the taxi.

She badly wanted to tell him to go take a flying
leap, except such behavior would only startle Emma. It would have to wait, she decided vengefully, until they were alone.

Stephanie was supremely conscious of him as they rode the lift down to the car park, and it took every reserve of strength not to wrench Emma from his arms.

Who did he think he was, invading her life, taking charge, issuing orders? It was a wonder steam wasn't escaping from her ears as she banked down her anger.

Fortunately Emma's excitement resulted in practically nonstop chatter during the fifteen-minute drive to Mermaid Beach, which meant Stephanie was able to respond to her daughter and totally ignore the man behind the wheel of the car.

The instant Raoul pulled into her driveway she undid her seat belt, and no sooner had he brought the car to a halt that she slid from the passenger seat in a bid to extricate Emma as quickly as possible.

‘There's no need for you to get out,' Stephanie said tightly as he copied her actions. ‘I can manage.'

‘I am sure you can,' he evinced silkily as he crossed to her side. ‘Let me take Emma.'

She didn't want him in the house. ‘No. I'm fine. Say good-night, darling,' she bade Emma seconds later, only to give a startled gasp as Raoul removed the keys from her fingers and pushed one into the lock of the front door.

Naturally he got it right the first time, and she
clenched her teeth in exasperation as he followed her indoors.

Stephanie threw him a look that should have felled him. ‘I'd like you to leave. Now.'

‘Put Emma to bed, Stephanie,' Raoul drawled in a deceptively silky voice. He smiled at the little girl nestled in her mother's arms. ‘Good night, poppet. Sweet dreams.'

‘Kiss good night,' Emma said with unblinking solemnity, and held out her arms.

Raoul leaned forward and brushed a soft childish cheek with his lips, then watched as Stephanie turned away and moved down the hallway.

Did he have any idea what that gesture did to her? Almost before her eyes man and child were forming an affection that had no place to go. It wasn't fair to Emma, she decided as she undressed her daughter and went through the routine of getting her ready for bed.

It took a while for her to settle, given the excitement of the evening and the prospect of a visit to Dreamworld. But halfway through the usual nighttime story the long silky lashes began to droop as she drifted to sleep.

Stephanie waited a few minutes, then she adjusted the covers, turned down the light and gently closed the door as she left.

Raoul was in the lounge, one hand thrust into a trouser pocket, and he raked her slender form with compelling intensity as she crossed to stand behind a single chair.

‘Don't presume to judge me by Emma's father.'

Her eyes flashed blue fire and her chin tilted as she threw him a venomous glare. ‘You know nothing of Emma's father.'

‘I know he holds no importance in your life.' He indicated the picture frames holding pride of place on the dropped table. ‘There is no evidence of his existence.'

Anger flooded through her like an unstoppable tide, and the desire to shock caused a flow of words she had no intention of uttering.

‘Ben is dead.'

If that stark announcement surprised him, he gave no evidence of it, and that infuriated her further.

‘You want to know details?' she vented. ‘We were childhood sweethearts who grew up together, fell in love and got engaged. Then I fell pregnant. A classic mistake caused by a low dosage pill and a gastric attack.' Her expression sobered, became shuttered as some of the pain returned.

‘The man I thought I knew as well as I knew myself suggested I
take care of it
on the grounds a child would complicate our lives.' Her face paled at the memory of those ghastly arguments. ‘I refused.' She felt her features tighten as scenes flashed through her mind. The anger, the stinging retribution. ‘He opted out and took a flight to Canada, only to die a few months later in a skiing accident.'

She drew a deep calming breath, then released it, hating herself for the tirade, and hating him even more for goading her into it.

‘You intend excluding all men from your life, because one man ran away from responsibility?'

She'd dealt with this four years ago. Dealt with the pain of rejection, the degree of guilt for Ben's death. She didn't want to revive the past, for she'd learned the hard way that it had no part in her future.

‘I want you to leave.'

‘Not yet.'

‘Who do you think you are?' On impulse she picked up a nearby ornament and hurled it at him only to see him field and catch it.

The action horrified her, and she stared at him in stunned disbelief for several long seconds.

‘Dammit! What do you want from me?' The query came out as a strangled whisper.

‘The opportunity to prove I'm not Ben.' His voice was dangerously quiet, and she was unable to look away.

‘To what end?' she demanded, sorely tried. ‘You're on the Coast how long? A week, two at the most.' Her gaze pierced his. ‘Then what? You move on, New York, Paris…wherever. I can qualify a pleasant sojourn, but what about Emma? How does she deal with someone who affords her affection, then leaves?'

‘I want to be with you.'

His meaning was unmistakable. ‘Are you suggesting we scratch an
itch?
'

Her scandalized expression amused him. ‘When I take you to bed,' he vowed silkily, ‘it won't be merely to
scratch an itch.
'

‘No,' she denied heatedly. ‘Because you won't get anywhere near my bed!'

Raoul regarded her silently for a few seconds. ‘You are so sure about that?'

She wasn't sure about anything where he was concerned. Already he'd managed to get beneath her skin, and that in itself was dangerous.

‘Go find some other woman to fill your needs. I'm not into experimentation.'

‘Neither am I,' Raoul assured pitilessly. ‘And if I merely wanted a woman to
fill my needs,
why would I choose to continually do battle with
you?
'

‘Because I make a change, and therefore present a challenge?'

‘Is that what you think?'

‘Damn you,' Stephanie snarled, almost at the end of her tether. ‘What else is there for me to think?'

‘You could try to trust me.'

‘I trusted a man once,' she flung heatedly. ‘Someone I'd known all my life. Why should I trust
you,
someone I've known for only a week!'

‘Because I give my word that you can.'

‘Words are easy,' she said bitterly.

She wasn't aware of him moving, yet he was close, much too close, and there was nothing she could do to escape his descending head as he claimed her mouth in a kiss that took her by complete surprise.

She expected force…a fierce unprincipled onslaught that was nothing less than an invasion.

Instead his touch was tactile, an evocative explo
ration that was incredibly gentle. Bewitching, enticing, it mesmerized her with a magic all its own, hinting at hunger and passion withheld.

Heat coursed through her veins, arousing acute sensuality, and her body swayed into his, craving closer contact as her arms slid up his shoulders and clung.

Raoul deepened the kiss, slowly and with infinite care, eliciting a response that drove him to the brink.

This wasn't the time, or the place, and he gradually withdrew, lightly brushing her lips with his own until they sought and rested against her temple.

How long they stood like that she wasn't sure. Long seconds, maybe minutes. Then he shifted a hand and cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

‘You want to deny
this?
' He cradled her face, and felt a tremor race through her body. ‘Reject what we might have together?' He smoothed a thumb over her lips. ‘I want you. For all the right reasons. I need you to want to take the first step.'

He lowered his head and kissed her, lightly teasing her tongue with his own, then he withdrew.

‘I'm going to walk out the door. You have the number of my cell phone. If you don't ring me before I reach the hotel, I won't attempt to see you again.' He ran his thumb lightly over her lower lip, then pressed the pad against the slightly swollen center. ‘Okay?'

‘I don't want this,' she said in a desperate whisper.

‘Wrong,' he denied gently. ‘You don't want to be hurt.'

‘That, too,' she admitted wretchedly, and he smiled.

‘One day at a time,
cherie,
hmm?'

She wasn't capable of uttering a word.

He placed his hands over her own and gently disentangled them from his shoulders.