The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (24 page)

‘Or perhaps I should beat you.' He lifted the can and took a long swallow. ‘Believe I am sorely tempted to do both.'

‘Try it,' Hannah said tightly.

He cast her a long dark look that sent shivers scudding down the length of her spine. ‘Don't push me.'

Without thinking she threw the contents of her glass in his face, watching with a sense of mesmerised disbelief as the cold water splashed from his broad features down onto his shirt, leaving a huge wet patch that was impossible to ignore.

She didn't move, despite a terrible sense of panic that urged her to run as far and as fast as she could.

Instead, she stood glaring at him in silent defiance.

His eyes didn't leave hers as he set the can aside, then in seeming slow motion he pulled the shirt free from his trousers, undid the buttons, then he shrugged it off and draped it over a nearby chair before turning to face her.

With deliberate movements he reached for a neatly folded towel displayed in plain sight and removed the excess moisture from his face, then he tossed the towel onto the bed.

He was an impressive sight. Olive skin stretched over hard musculature, the liberal sprinkle of dark hair at his chest, a tight stomach, firm waist, with not a spare ounce of flesh in evidence.

‘Are you done?'

‘It depends.'

He took a step towards her, and she stood her ground.

‘So brave,' Miguel mocked silkily, watching her pupils dilate as he drew close.

She was damned if she'd beg, and the single word emerged as a warning. ‘Don't.'

He didn't touch her. ‘Don't—
what
, specifically?'

‘I'll fight you,' she said fiercely, unaware that her hands had tightened into fists, or that her stance had altered slightly preparatory for attack.

‘You can't win.'

‘I can try.' She would, too. Self defence was an art form she'd studied to a degree, and she had the element of surprise on her side.

He saw the slight lift of her chin, the muscle flex at the edge of her jaw, the anger, the fire so close to the surface.

‘Do you want to so badly?'

‘Yes,'
Hannah vented, and saw him slide a hand into each trouser pocket.

‘Then go ahead.'

Hit him? For all the times she'd wanted to, for the few occasions she actually had…now that he was placing himself at her mercy, she found she couldn't do it.

Miguel caught each fleeting expression on her mobile features, and accurately defined every one of them.

‘I guess we need to talk,' she offered slowly.

‘We did that. It didn't resolve anything.'

Her face paled as she recalled the explosive scene they'd shared early this morning.

‘Miguel—'

Whatever else she might have said remained locked in her throat as his mouth slanted down to cover hers in a kiss that tore at the very roots of her emotional foundation.

There was nothing punishing about it, just intense evocative passion that seemed to plunder the depths of her soul, dragging something from her she was reluctant to give.

She didn't
want
to respond. Dear heaven, how could she, when there was so much hurt and anguish?

It was almost as if he was trying to tap into her fragile heart, to instil something so infinitely precious that meant more, so much more than mere words could convey.

His mouth was the only part of his body touching her. He could easily have drawn her into his arms, used his hands to mould her slender frame to his, his heavy arousal in evidence. Employed sensual body heat to tantalise her senses, to touch and tease with such skilful expertise she would soon shatter into a thousand pieces.
His.

Yet he did none of those things. There was just his
mouth, and the mesmeric intoxication of heat and passion.

She hated the distance between them, and it took tremendous strength of will not to sink into him.
This
, after all, was the one level of communication at which they excelled.

Sex. Really great sex.

She'd thought it was enough. She'd even managed to convince herself that
love
didn't matter. But it did, and a little part of her had slowly died with each passing day.

Sensation flared, spiralling through her body, filling it with a sweet sorcery only Miguel had the power to wield.

A faint sob rose and died in her throat, a slight compulsive movement he felt rather than heard, and he sensed the way her hands rose, then fell again as she sought control.

The long slow sweep of his tongue against her own almost caused her to lose it, and she began to shake beneath the emotional weight of resisting him.

He sensed the moment she ignored her mind and went with her heart, felt the first tentative touch of her hands as they crept to his shoulders and twined together round his neck.

Something within him convulsed, and a deep shudder raked his powerful frame as he drew her close in against him.

His kiss deepened, possessing with shameless hunger as he led her down a path towards sensual conflagration.

Hannah lost track of time and a sense of place in the need to be part of him. The rest of his clothes, hers, were an unwanted intrusion, and her fingers sought the buckle fastening the belt on his trousers, only to have him shift slightly and cover her hand with his own before gently placing her at arm's length.

Her eyes widened and seemed too large in her face. Uncertain, she edged the tip of her tongue along the swollen curve of her lip. The gesture was unbidden, and she saw his eyes flare, then become incredibly dark.

He placed a finger over her lips, felt the faint tremble, and cupped her jaw.

‘You are my life,' Miguel said gently. ‘
Amada
, the very air that I breathe. Everything.' A finger traced the pulsing cord to the base of her throat and settled in the sensitive hollow above the rapid beat of her pulse. ‘You have my heart, all that I am.' His smile held a warmth that made her breath hitch. ‘Always.'

Hannah wasn't capable of uttering a word.

‘From the beginning,' he added. ‘I took one look, and there could be no one else. Only
you
.'

She found her voice with difficulty. ‘But we—'

‘Married to please our respective parents, ensure the business
stayed in the family
?' He brushed a thumb along the curve of her lower lip. ‘Do you really believe that?'

Her mouth quivered. ‘You said—'

‘I asked you to marry me.'

‘I thought—'

‘You think too much,' Miguel chastised gently. ‘I love you.
You
,' he emphasised. ‘For everything you are.'

‘You loved me?' she queried as hope began to unfurl. ‘From the beginning?'

‘Do you really believe I'm the kind of man who would tie himself legally to a woman, contemplate making her the mother of my children—' He broke off, and shook his head. ‘
Querida
, haven't you come to know me better than that?'

Yes, she had. Or, at least, she'd thought she had before Camille had begun playing her games.

‘Camille—'

‘I barely refrained from strangling her. As to Luc—' A muscle tensed at the edge of his jaw, and his eyes took on a dangerous gleam. ‘The temptation to break his jaw was never far from my mind.'

Something that had been evident on occasion, Hannah reflected. Although at the time she'd thought Miguel was simply playing the part expected of him.

And Camille?

‘Notice that an interim apprehended violence order would be filed against Camille was issued yesterday. I understand she chose to take the option of dropped charges if she remove herself from the state and the country within twenty-four hours,' Miguel informed her, reading her mind.

His words were so clipped and hard, Hannah didn't doubt
he
had delivered the ultimatum in a manner Camille couldn't fail to understand.

‘I see,' she said slowly.

One eyebrow slanted with musing humour. ‘What do you see,
amante
?'

She lifted a hand, then let it fall to her side.

‘Where do we go from here?'

‘Now?' Miguel pulled her gently back into his arms, and nuzzled the delicate curve at the base of her neck. ‘I'm going to make love with my wife.' He drew the soft skin into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth.

A tremor shook her slender frame as liquid fire flooded her veins, heating her body to fever pitch.

‘Show her how infinitely precious she is to me.' Slowly and with infinite care, he freed the buttons on her blouse, then slid it from her arms and discarded it. Next came the zip fastening on her skirt, and he skimmed slip and briefs over her hips in one easy movement. Hannah stepped out of her heeled shoes as he unfastened the clip of her bra.

‘And ensure she never has reason to doubt my love for her.' He traced the curve of one breast, then brushed his fingers back and forth across a rosy peak, watching as the bud protruded before lowering his head to capture it in his mouth.

Her body arched as he suckled, and a gasp emerged from her throat when he rolled the tender bud with the edge of his teeth, leaving her teetering on the brink between pleasure and pain.

‘This isn't fair,' she inclined, reaching for the buckle on his trousers, then the zip, and seconds later he kicked aside his trousers and briefs.

‘Better?'

‘Much.'

‘I intended to take you to dinner,' Miguel informed her as she began a subtle exploration that soon promised to have dangerous consequences.

‘Maybe later.'

‘With champagne,' he added for good measure, then drew in a deep breath and held it as she enclosed him.

‘Room service,' Hannah offered an instant before he carried her down onto the bed.

T
HEY
did eat, well after the witching hour of midnight.

The lovemaking had been hard and fast, then afterwards they'd indulged themselves with a sensual feast that surpassed anything they'd previously shared. Vibrant, erotic, it was sensual magic at its most primitive.

Following a leisurely shower they donned courtesy robes, and sipped fine French champagne while they waited for room service.

When they finished the food, she leaned back in her chair. There were questions she wanted to ask. Words she needed to say.
Now
, a tiny voice prompted. Say them now.

There were tiny lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, and his features showed evidence of emerging dark stubble.

She looked at him carefully, seeing the strength, the aura of power he projected, and knew that it would always be there. For her.

‘I love you,' she revealed with quiet sincerity, and saw his features soften.

His eyes were dark, so very dark, their expression unguarded so as to almost make her catch her breath
at the wealth of emotion evident.
‘Gracias, mi mujer,'
he acknowledged gently.

‘I always have. If I hadn't,' Hannah assured him, ‘I would never have agreed to marry you.' She swallowed a small lump that suddenly rose in her throat. ‘You're everything I need. All I could ever want.' Her eyes became luminous with shimmering tears. ‘My life.'

Was it possible for a heart to stop beating? That emotion could be so intense it could cut off the ability to speak?

Miguel stood and pulled her into his arms. His mouth was an erotic instrument as he kissed her, gently at first, then with increasing passion.

Hannah became lost, adrift in a sea of emotion and she simply held onto his shoulders as she met and matched his fervour.

How long did they stand there, locked in each other's arms? She had no recollection of time.

Slowly he eased his mouth from hers, pressing soft kisses to her swollen lips as she sighed in protest, and she groaned a little when he disengaged her arms and crossed the room.

She watched idly as he extracted something from his jacket pocket, and returned to press a slim jeweller's case into her hand.

‘I have something for you.'

‘Miguel—'

‘Open it.'

She did so, carefully, and felt the sudden prick of tears. Nestled in a bed of velvet was an exquisite drop
necklace and matching earrings. Beautifully delicate, it linked Argyle pink and white diamonds alternately with a pear-shaped pink diamond at the base of the drop.

‘They're beautiful,' Hannah whispered, feeling the moisture well, then spill to run down each cheek in a slow rivulet that paused momentarily at the edge of her jaw. ‘Thank you.'

‘Tears, Hannah?'

At his teasing query she blinked them away, and brushed shaky fingers across each cheek. ‘I can't seem to stop.'

Miguel removed the necklace, placed it in position and fastened the safety clip. Then he leant down and brushed his lips to her temple.

The intricate centre star-burst lay just beneath the hollow of her throat, with its single line of pink sapphires and diamonds dropping several inches towards the soft swell of her breasts.

The fact he had remembered was one thing. Since the description had been her own and didn't refer to anything she'd seen, it meant he'd consigned a jeweller to craft it to this specific design.

‘Don't you want to see how it looks?'

Hannah shook her head. ‘It's the most beautiful thing I've ever owned,' she said softly. ‘Special,' she added, aware he knew just how much the gift meant to her.

She reached for the clasp, only to have him still her hands.

‘Leave it on.'

Without a further word she drew his head down to hers and initiated a kiss that proved so evocative it could have only one ending.

Later, much later, Miguel curved her in against him and pressed a light kiss to her temple. ‘Sleep,
amante
. Tomorrow is another day.'

 

Hannah woke to the peal of the doorbell, and Miguel ushered in the waiter delivering room-service breakfast.

What time was it? She cast a hurried glance at the digital clock on the bedside pedestal, and gave a groan.

Eight-fifteen! Dear heaven, she was due to open the boutique at nine, and she needed to shower, dress, get home and collect a fresh change of clothes…

With rapid movements she thrust aside the covers and slid to her feet. The shower…

‘
Amada
, slow down,' Miguel growled in husky chastisement, and she cast him a harried glance.

‘The boutique— You should have woken me…'

‘Come and have breakfast.' He sounded indolently amused. ‘You're not going anywhere.'

‘What do you mean I'm not going anywhere? It's late—'

His dark musing expression held warm appreciation of her nudity, and she quickly caught up a robe, thrust her arms through the sleeves and hurriedly caught the silk edges together.

He extended a hand, caught hold of hers, and pulled her close.

‘Miguel,' she protested in exasperation. ‘We don't have time—'

‘Yes, we do.'

‘No, we don't.' She dragged fingers through the tousled length of her hair, and made an effort to free her hand.

Except she didn't stand a chance as his mouth covered hers in a lingering kiss that almost destroyed the will to move. Almost. It was she who pulled away first, and only, she suspected, because he allowed it.

He could, he knew, slide the silk from her shoulders and pull her down onto the bed. Early morning lovemaking was a mutual indulgence that made for a great start to the day. Today, however, it would have to wait.

‘Renee will open the boutique this morning.'

She stilled, and gave him a searching look. ‘Why?'

Miguel led her towards the table where the waiter had laid out their breakfast. ‘Sit down and we'll eat.'

‘I'm not doing a thing until you tell me what's going on.'

‘Okay,' Miguel said easily. ‘We're due to board an international flight in a few hours.'

She stilled, and her eyes were wide as she looked at him. ‘What did you say?'

He reached out an arm and drew her forward and into a chair, then he took the seat opposite. ‘You heard.'

‘How?'

He cast her a musing glance. ‘The usual way, I imagine.'

‘I mean, how can we get away at such short notice?'

‘Delegate.'

‘I can't—'

‘Yes, you can.' He drank half of his orange juice in one long swallow. ‘Cindy returns to work on Monday, she will manage the boutique with Elaine's help, and Renee will go in at four each afternoon to close.'

‘But—'

‘The world as we know it won't end if we take time out,' Miguel relayed quietly.

He was right, it wouldn't. It was just so…
sudden
. So unexpected.

Hannah took a sip of orange juice, then another. ‘Where are we going?'

‘Hawaii.'

Oh, my, did he possess some kind of mind-reading gift? She mentally pictured white sand, blue sea, and white-crested surf, sunshine, and tranquillity. Lazy days, long, languid nights. Heaven.

She almost dared not ask. ‘How long?'

‘A week in Honolulu, and a week on Maui.'

‘Honolulu?' she queried, a slow, sweet smile curving her lips. Maui. She didn't know which held the most appeal. ‘Really?' Her eyes acquired a gleam.
‘Today?'

His mouth twitched with wry amusement. ‘Don't look at me like that. Or we won't get out of this suite, let alone catch a scheduled flight.'

Hannah laughed, a light-hearted sound that stole round his heart and tugged a little. ‘You think so?'

He reached out a hand and placed a finger over her lips. ‘Breakfast,
querida
.'

‘Okay,' she acquiesced. She held up one hand and began counting off her fingers. ‘Hmm. A nine-hour flight.' Her eyes acquired a devilish sparkle. ‘That gives me plenty of time to plan exactly how I intend to reward you.'

‘Minx,' he said, tempted to discard breakfast altogether.

‘Pity we need to go home to pack.'

‘No,' Miguel discounted. ‘We don't. I have our bags in the boot of the car.'

She couldn't restrain an incredulous smile. ‘
You
packed for me?'

‘I have as much as you need,' he said with musing solemnity. ‘Anything else you can buy there. Besides,' he added indolently, ‘I don't plan on having you wear much at all most of the time.'

Hannah leaned across the table and pressed a finger to his lips. ‘Well, I have news for you,
amante
. I plan to swim, lie in the sun, go for long walks, and read. And a pleasant meal among fellow diners is also a prerequisite.' Her eyes sparkled and acquired the hue of brilliant blue topaz. ‘If you've only tossed briefs and a robe into my bag, you're in serious trouble.'

‘Try…an evening suit, a dress or two, shorts, a few tops, bikini, shoes…' Miguel trailed off, then opened his mouth and playfully nipped her finger with the edge of his teeth before releasing it.

‘Food,'
she mocked gently, and began doing justice to cereal and fruit, following it with toast and strong black coffee.

They made the flight with only minutes to spare, and Hannah divided her attention between the pages of a spellbinding murder mystery and the movies offered on-screen.

It was late when they landed in Honolulu, and almost midnight by the time they checked into their hotel.

The luxury suite on a high floor overlooking Waikiki beach was superb, and Hannah crossed to the wide expanse of plate glass and slid open doors onto the lanai.

A gentle breeze wafted in from the ocean, and the air held the fresh smell of the sea. Twinkling lights outlined the mainland arching towards Diamond Head.

Miguel moved in close behind her and linked his arms around her waist. His chin rested on top of her head as she leaned back against him.

‘It's magical,' she murmured softly. Melbourne, home,
Camille
, seemed so far away. Like a bad dream from which she'd just awoken. ‘Thank you.'

‘For what, precisely?'

‘Bringing me here,' she said simply. Taking affirmative action, believing in me…
us
, she added silently.

Miguel's hands tightened fractionally, and he lowered his head to savour the vulnerable hollow at the base of her neck. ‘My pleasure.'

‘I've reached a decision,' Hannah said slowly, feeling the heat slipping through her body at his touch. It was like an aphrodisiac, powerful, potent, and electric. She felt malleable,
his
. ‘If you approve.'

‘Are you asking, or telling me?' he teased, aware of her quickening heartbeat, the way her body was poised between want and surrender.

‘I thought—' She paused, and dragged in a quick breath as his hand cupped her breast and began caressing its vulnerable peak.

‘Hmm?' he queried musingly. ‘What did you think,
querida
?'

‘After Christmas might be a good time to promote Cindy.'

‘A sensible decision.'

‘I think I'll keep Elaine on part-time, just to help out.'

‘I assume this is leading somewhere?' Miguel prompted leisurely.

‘Babies,' Hannah ventured with a soft smile. ‘How do you feel about starting our own family?'

He felt as if someone had punched him in the solar plexus. A child? His mind leapt ahead to a blonde angel the mirror image of her mother. Maybe a dark-haired son who would drive his mother mad with boyish pranks…
Por Dios
, Hannah heavy with child, the birth… He went pale at the thought of her in pain.

‘Are you sure about this?'

She twisted in his arms as she turned to face him.

‘You're not?' She searched his features in the half-
light, and glimpsed something evident she couldn't define.

‘I can't think of anything more special, other than you, that you could gift me,' Miguel declared fervently.

Hannah felt the slight tremor that ran through his large body, and she wound her arms round his waist and pulled him close.

‘Maybe we should go inside,' she teased lightly, ‘and practise a little.' A warm chuckle emerged from her throat. ‘Besides, I have a particular reward to bestow.'

Together they re-entered the suite, closed the door to the lanai, then drew the curtains.

Their own private world, Hannah mused as she removed her outer clothes and entered the shower. Miguel joined her, and they took their time, enjoying the promise, the anticipation of the loving they would always share.

During the following few days they delighted in playing tourist. They rode the tramcar, hired a limousine for the day and toured the island.

Midweek they took a flight out to Maui, and spent a wonderfully relaxing six days in a hotel right on the beach overlooking the ocean. Lovely sunny days walking on the beach, lazing beneath the spread of palm trees reading, listening to music on the Walkman. They swam in the ocean, frequented the hotel pool, played tennis, then dined in one of several restaurants, before retiring to their suite to make long, sweet love through the night.

Miguel rose early in the morning to use the laptop for an hour, and checked his cell-phone before they went to dinner each evening as a brief concession to the outside business world.

Hannah didn't mind. It was enough they were together in a wonderfully idyllic part of the world.

On their return to Honolulu they shopped in several exclusive boutiques. ‘Retail therapy,' Hannah teased as she added yet another brightly coloured designer bag to the few Miguel indulgently carried in each hand.

There were gifts to select for Renee, Carlo and Esteban, as well as something for Cindy and Elaine.