The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (34 page)

Nicos answered on the second ring, and his caller ID negated the need for verbal identification.

‘Katrina. Something wrong?'

Considering she never rang him, it was a reasonable assumption.

‘Enrique is negotiating information,' she said without preamble.

‘And you opted to go straight to the source.'

His voice was a cynical drawl that sent a shivery sensation slithering the length of her spine.

‘Yes.'

‘I took the late morning flight to Brisbane with my lawyer to personally expedite certain legal matters.'

Her stomach tightened painfully. ‘With Georgia.' She didn't even voice it as a query.

‘Yes.'

Had she expected him to lie to her? ‘Thank you for the clarification,' she said with icy politeness, and cut the connection.

Seconds later the phone rang, and she refused to answer.

With cold-hearted determination she finished the day's work, cleared her desk, caught up her laptop,
and left the office ahead of her usual time, amazed that she felt so calm.

Katrina took her car up to street level, then headed towards Double Bay and checked into the Ritz-Carlton hotel.

One night alone wouldn't contravene the terms of Kevin's will, she concluded as she glanced around the luxuriously fitted suite. There was everything at her fingertips. She could work from her laptop, order in a meal, and screen any incoming calls on her cellphone.

There was a certain pleasure in calculating the time it would take Nicos to arrive home and discover her absence. How long before he made the first call? Seven o'clock?

Fifteen minutes past, Katrina saw with a degree of satisfaction. She'd changed out of her clothes, phoned her mother, taken a shower, donned the hotel's courtesy bathrobe, and had eaten a light meal delivered by room service.

She ignored the insistent peal before the call switched to message-bank. His voice when she played it back was curt and controlled.

Half an hour later he called again, and this time there was a degree of anger evident.

By now he would have rung her apartment, and probably Siobhan, who on strict instructions from her daughter, would deny any knowledge of Katrina's whereabouts.

At what point would he give up?

Not easily, she determined, as she checked the dig
ital screen on her cellphone before taking a call from her mother.

‘Darling,' Siobhan chided gently. ‘This is most unwise of you.'

‘A temporary lack in wisdom isn't that big a deal,' Katrina assured her, and heard her mother's sigh.

‘Nicos doesn't know where you are, and you're not answering your phone.' There was a brief pause. ‘At least let him know you're safe.'

Siobhan had a point. ‘If he rings again,' she agreed in capitulation.

‘He isn't a man with whom any sensible woman plays games,' her mother warned.

‘I'm not feeling particularly
sensible
right now.'

‘Take care, Katrina.'

As an exit line it held connotations she didn't want to examine, and for the first time in several hours she felt the first prickle of unease.

Something that seemed to magnify when her cellphone pealed fifteen minutes later.

Nicos.

She activated the call, and forced her voice to remain cool, steady, as she relayed, ‘I'm fine. I'll be home tomorrow night.' And cut the connection.

When it rang again, she didn't answer.

She attempted work on her laptop, then gave it up after a frustrating half hour, opting instead to check the television programs.

Choosing an in-house movie, she adjusted the pillows and slid into bed.

The stark realism of the action theme suited her
mood, and superb acting added another dimension, capturing her attention almost to the exclusion of all else.

The sudden double knock on the door startled her, and she banked down a momentary stab of fear.

Then common sense overrode apprehension. This was a first-class hotel with tight security.

The assurance didn't do much for her composure, and she crossed to the door, checked the safety latch was in place, and demanded identification.

‘Room service, ma'am.'

Katrina opened the door a crack to see a uniformed waiter bearing a tray. ‘I didn't order anything.'

‘As you didn't use the dining room this evening, ma'am, complimentary evening tea is provided.'

She welcomed the service. ‘Just a moment.' It only took seconds to release the latch, then pull open the door.

Big mistake. Nicos materialised behind the waiter, looming like a dark angel bent on castigation.

It was too late to slam the door. One glance at Nicos's expression was enough to realise he wouldn't allow something as simple as a locked door stand in his way. He'd bribed the hotel staff to organise a waiter to deliver tea. To have a porter, or even the hotel manager, request entry for one valid reason or another wouldn't present much of a problem.

The waiter, undoubtedly
au fait
with almost
any
situation, didn't so much as blink as he entered the suite and placed the tray on a table before retreating with decorous speed.

Katrina waited until the door closed behind him before turning towards Nicos.

‘What in
hell
do you think you're doing here?'

Her face was scrubbed free of make-up, her hair a mass of curls tumbling to her shoulders, and her eyes were sparking green fury.

The complimentary towelling robe was too big, too long, and looked incongruous on her slender, petite frame.

Given another occasion, he might have been amused. Now, he was treading a fine line between anger and rage.

He advanced into the room, and stood regarding her with ruthless appraisal. ‘I might ask you the same question.'

His voice was quiet, controlled, and much too dangerous for her peace of mind.

‘I wanted a night alone,' Katrina qualified.

‘Let's take this home, shall we?'

‘I'm not going anywhere.'

Nicos didn't move, but she felt his presence had suddenly become an ominous threat.

‘We can do this in a civilised manner. Or I can carry you kicking and screaming down to the car.'

Her hands closed into fists. ‘You wouldn't dare.'

‘Try me.'

‘I'll call hotel security.'

He indicated the phone resting on the bedside pedestal. ‘Go ahead.'

‘Nicos—'

‘Five minutes, Katrina. Change into your clothes or remain as you are. The choice is yours.'

‘No.'

‘It's not open to negotiation.'

She swore, and saw one eyebrow lift as speculative amusement temporarily overrode anger.

‘Four and a half minutes…and counting,' he relayed coolly.

He could count as much as he wanted, but she had no intention of moving an inch.

They faced each other, like two opposing warriors bent on conquest. Who would win was a foregone conclusion. He had the height and the strength to overcome her with minimum effort.

Which he did, when the time was up. Gathering up her laptop and bag, he collected her business suit, shoes, and flimsy underwear in one hand, then he hauled her over one shoulder as if she weighed little more than a child.

It didn't prevent her from balling her fists against his back, nor attempting to kick any part of his anatomy where she could connect.

‘You
fiend
! Put me down!'

He turned towards the door, and she hit him again for good measure. ‘If you
dare
to walk out of here like this, I'll kill you,' Katrina vented furiously.

‘You had your chance to leave with dignity.'

Dear heaven.
‘Nicos—'

Except it was too late.

Please God, don't let anyone be in the corridor, or the lift.

The corridor was empty, but the lift was not.

‘Oh, my,' a feminine voice said quietly, while the man at her side spared a faint chuckle.

‘He's a wolf in sheep's clothing,' Katrina accused vehemently, landing a hard fist against Nicos's ribs for good measure.

Was there no end to her humiliation?

‘Some wolf. Some fantasy.'

Did she detect
envy
in the woman's tone?

The lift slid to a gentle halt, and Katrina was carried unceremoniously to where Nicos had parked the Mercedes.

‘I have my own car.'

‘You imagine I'll let you drive it?' He released the alarm and opened the passenger door. ‘I'll arrange to have it picked up in the morning.'

‘I'll need it to go to work.'

He tossed her clothes onto the back seat along with her bag, then placed the laptop on the floor before sliding her down onto the cushioned leather.

‘So, I'll drive you.' He released the seat belt and leaned over her to clip it in place. Then he closed the door and crossed round to slip in behind the wheel.

‘You're the most arrogant,
impossible
man I've ever met!'

He fired the engine, then speared her a dark glance. ‘Save the name-calling until we get home and I can deal with it.'

Katrina retreated into silence, and didn't offer a word when Nicos drew the car to a halt in the garage.

With considerable dignity she exited the front seat,
collected her gear, and strode into the house ahead of him.

Savoir-faire
was difficult, given the towelling bathrobe's hem trailed the floor, the folded-back sleeves had long become unfolded and hung down past her fingertips, and the cross-over front edges were in danger of parting. As to the waist tie…forget it!

She discarded the laptop on one of the wall tables in the lobby, aware Nicos was right behind her.

‘Let's take it in the lounge, shall we?'

Katrina halted mid-step, and turned to face him. ‘What's wrong with right here?' She dropped her bag, placed her clothes down beside it, then tugged the edges of the robe into place, and fastened the tie belt.

She resembled a belligerent child playing dressing up, he mused, fighting a need to verbally flay her for giving him a few of the worst hours in his life.

‘Suppose you explain why you hung up on me, refused to take my calls, didn't bother leaving a message, weren't home, and left me to conduct a wild-goose chase in order to track you down?'

A hand lifted and she began counting off each query in turn with an angry indignance that grew by the second.

‘It should be self-explanatory! You declined to tell me you were flying to Brisbane, presumably with the express purpose of seeing Georgia
and
your son.' Her eyes glittered with fury. ‘I had to be informed of it by Enrique…a fact you confirmed. How do you think I felt?'

‘So you decided to run away.'

‘I did not
run away
!'

‘What else would you call booking into a hotel and leaving me no word of where you were?'

‘Dammit, I was so angry, I wanted to
hit
you!' she cried, wanting to rail her fists against him. For hurting her afresh.

‘If you'd taken one of my calls—'

‘You could have explained?'

‘Yes.'

Her chin tilted. ‘Told me what you thought I wanted to hear?'

‘The truth.'

‘Which is?'

‘Months of legal dialogue are about to reach a conclusion.' His eyes darkened measurably. ‘Georgia won a reprieve during her pregnancy against DNA testing to prove paternity. With the birth, that reprieve has been negated.' Frustration became evident, and he banked it down. ‘There was a delay in the results being given to my legal representative. Today's meeting between both lawyers was an effort to expedite the release of that information.' He waited a beat. ‘I went along in the hope of adding some weight to legal argument.'

‘And were you successful?'

‘It may take a few more days.'

‘At the time you asked me to believe Georgia was a psychotic whose jealousy got so out of hand she became pregnant by someone else and named you as the father in a deliberate attempt to break up our marriage,' Katrina relayed, vividly recalling the photos,
dates, that Georgia had presented as proof of her affair with Nicos. ‘I didn't buy that story at the time…' she took a deep breath and let it out slowly ‘…any more than I buy it now.'

‘Your trust in me is heart-warming.'

All the anger and pain rose to the surface. ‘Damn you, Nicos. She was your mistress for more than a year!'

‘A relationship that was over long before I met you.' He paused, his gaze lancing hers. ‘If, as she claims, she was the love of my life…why did I marry
you
?'

‘My prospective inheritance?'

His eyes darkened with glittering rage, and for one brief second she thought he might strike her. A muscle tensed at the edge of his jaw as he sought control.

‘Get out of my sight before I do something regrettable,' Nicos demanded in a tight bitter voice that caused her stomach to knot with apprehension.

For a heart-stopping second she hesitated, and he ground out, ‘Go. Or, by the living God, you'll wish you'd never been born.'

Katrina remained where she was. It was a matter of strength.
Hers.
Mentally, emotionally. And she refused to slink away from him in fear.

‘
Fool
,' he said with chilling softness.

In one swift movement he lifted her over one shoulder and strode upstairs. Restrained violence emanated from his taut frame, and his hands were hard on her soft flesh as he released her unceremoniously down onto the large bed they shared.

He discarded his jacket, tore off his tie, and she watched in mesmerised fascination as his shoes and trousers followed. Then his shirt, and lastly his briefs.

A naked, gloriously aroused male, slim-hipped, superb musculature, he resembled a powerful force as he followed her down onto the bed.