The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (35 page)

His hands reached for her robe and dragged the edges apart, then he lowered his head and feasted on her breasts in a manner that caused her to whimper as he crossed the line between pleasure and pain.

There were no preliminaries as he took her in one powerful thrust, and she cried out as he plunged deep, then withdrew to plunge even deeper. Repeating the action again and again.

This
…this was an annihilation, a primitive, no-holds-barred mating that spared no thought to seduction or pleasure. Only the need to slake a raw, barbarous hunger.

He roused in her a matching anger, and she reared up and sank her teeth into the muscle surrounding one male nipple…and heard his husky growl: his revenge was merciless, and she was repaying it in kind.

It was her only victory as he straddled her and pushed her arms above her head. Helpless, powerless, she tossed her head from side to side as he held her captive and branded her his own.

With each grazing bite, her muscles tightened around him, the spasms increasing in intensity until they merged as one.

It was more than she could bear, and she began to plead, then beg, willing him to stop. He did, emptying
himself into her in a shuddering climax, then in one fluid movement he rolled onto his back, taking her with him.

She wanted to disengage and scramble to the outer edge of the bed, except he pulled her down against him and held her close.

His breathing was equally rapid as her own, and she lay still, her eyes closed against the sight of him, her mind blanking out the ravaged, almost savage, sex.

Nicos held her throughout the night, and when she thought he slept she slowly shifted her body, only to have him anchor her in close against him.

K
ATRINA
woke to find she was alone, and for a moment she lay still as images of the previous night emerged, haunting her with their pagan intensity.

Nicos's hunger had been wild, unprincipled…without consequence or thought except to assuage a primeval need.

His controlled anger was infinitely more formidable than if he'd raised his voice or had resorted to smashing an inanimate object. Of which there were a few exquisite antique pieces positioned on beautiful rosewood chests flanking the lobby.

She shifted position, tentatively stretching her body…and felt the slight pull of ill-used muscles. There was an ache deep within, a remnant of his possession, and she was conscious of the sensation with each move she made.

What time was it? She rolled onto her side to check the digital clock, then sat upright in shocked surprise.
Eight?

That left her thirty minutes in which to shower, dress, and fight traffic in order to arrive at the office on time.

She made it downstairs, caught up her laptop, her bag, and turned towards the front door…only to come to a faltering stop as Nicos emerged into the lobby.

For a moment she stood completely still, her gaze trapped in his as he closed the distance between them.

When he almost reached her, her defence mechanism kicked into place and she found her voice.

‘I'm already late.'

‘In which case, a few more minutes won't make any difference,' he ventured silkily.

She wanted out of here, with space between them and time caught up with the mundane routine of business to occupy her mind. ‘I have to leave.'

‘No,' Nicos countered quietly. ‘You don't.' He lifted a hand and caught hold of her chin, tilting it to examine her features.

He doubted she'd slept any better than he had. How many times had he soothed her restless form through the night, while battling his own demons?

It mattered little that she'd provided provocation. His reaction to it was inexcusable.

‘What do you want?'

Now there was a question to which he could find no single answer. Uppermost was the most important one by far. He stroked the tip of his thumb over the full curve of her lower lip. ‘Are you all right?'

‘Do you care?' The retaliatory words were out before she could stop them.

‘Yes.'

She was powerless to prevent the faint quivering sensation that shook her slim frame. ‘I don't have time for a post-mortem.'

Nicos dropped his hand. ‘Tonight.'

Katrina stepped back a pace, then skirted his tall
frame. ‘Before, during, or after we've attended the art exhibition?' She saw his eyes darken, and was unable to resist querying sweetly, ‘You can't have forgotten?'

‘No. I've already checked the day's diary.'

She turned as she reached the passageway leading through to the garage. ‘I could be late.'

It became the day from hell. Traffic was backed up due to an accident, trebling the usual time it took to reach the city. Consequently it was after nine when she walked into her office.

To discover the computer network was down, and several irate messages from a client company whose head honcho wanted Macbride to supply top quality work for a cleverly worded contract worth peanuts.

There were, Katrina fumed, still men who imagined they could slip anything by a colleague simply because of her gender. She made the call, confounded him with figures and logic, then icily informed him Macbride was not interested in dealing with him, only to have pithy invective heaped on her head.

Just when she thought the day couldn't get any worse, her secretary relayed,

‘Georgia Burton is in reception.'

Katrina felt her stomach twist at the announcement. It would be easy to insist Georgia make an appointment, with no advantage except to delay the confrontation.

‘Show her in.' Nerves had her smoothing a hand over her hair and repairing her lipstick. She'd just
tossed the capped tube into her drawer when a discreet knock at the door preceded Georgia's entrance.

The model looked a million dollars in a pale silk suit, an artfully draped scarf, stiletto heels, and perfectly applied make-up.

Katrina indicated one of three comfortable chairs. ‘Please, take a seat.' In a calculated movement she checked her watch. ‘I have to attend a scheduled meeting in ten minutes.'

‘Darling, five minutes will do.' Georgia crossed to the plate-glass window and took a few valuable seconds to look out over the city before turning towards Katrina.

‘Nicos and I have struck a deal.'

Don't let her get to you.
‘Indeed?'

‘I thought you'd be interested.'

‘Why would you think that?'

‘Doesn't it bother you that Nicos still continues to see me?'

‘Should it?'

‘Yes, considering you're an obstacle that prevents him being a father to his son.'

‘An obstacle you intend to remove?'

‘I'm glad you get the drift.'

‘That this is a last-ditch effort on your part?' she queried with deadly softness. ‘How long, Georgia, before due legal process forces the release of your son's DNA results?' Her gaze didn't falter as she mentally sharpened her claws. ‘A day, hours, before your elaborate scheme falls apart?'

‘Nikki is Nicos's son!'

‘I'm sure you wish that were true.' Katrina aimed for the kill, and played the biggest gamble of her life. ‘But it's not, is it?' Dear Lord, what if she was wrong?

Georgia's eyes narrowed. ‘Two days ago Nicos was in Brisbane with me.'

‘A meeting which took place in a lawyer's office.'

‘Is that what he told you?'

‘What if I told you I have a private detective's report tabling Nicos's every move?' She didn't, but Georgia wasn't to know that.

‘Then, you have precise details of each liaison.'

Stay calm
, Katrina bade silently. She's merely calling your bluff. Or was she?
Don't go there.

Summoning icy control Katrina stood to her feet and crossed to the door. ‘You'll have to excuse me.'

Georgia's features were composed, her voice dripping with pseudo sympathy. ‘He may remain married to you, darling, but he'll always be mine.'

She swept out the door with the sort of smile that made Katrina want to smash something.

Déjàvu
, she reflected grimly as she crossed back to her desk.

Nine months ago she'd stood in this office shattered beyond belief at the news Georgia was pregnant with Nicos's child.

Had she been wrong? Could Georgia have contrived evidence that, while appearing irrefutable, was in fact erroneous?

Nicos had asserted his innocence from the beginning.
What if he was right?

There was nothing she could do, but wait for the DNA results to be released.

Lunch wasn't even an option, and by mid-afternoon she was punchy. Make that
very
punchy, she determined after taking a call from her wayward and very persistent stepbrother.

She couldn't even threaten to expose him to Chloe, for his mother was well aware of his habitual need for money and
why
. It was, Chloe had explained languidly, a phase. As far as Katrina was concerned, Enrique had long outgrown this
phase
and was several steps down the path to addiction.

It was five-thirty when she left the office, and she joined the commuter trail of bumper-to-bumper vehicles clogging the city's arterial routes leading to suburbs on all compass points.

Nicos's car was already in the garage when she parked the Boxster close by, and he was there in the lobby when she entered it.

Katrina threw him a fulminating glare as she bypassed him and made for the stairs. ‘Don't even ask.' And she missed the way his eyebrow slanted with cynical bemusement as he viewed her ascending.

When she reached the landing she deftly removed one heeled pump, then the other, and by the time she reached the bedroom she'd unbuttoned her jacket, had loosened the camisole she wore beneath it, and was working on the zip fastening of her skirt.

A minute later she walked naked into the
en suite
, cast the spa-bath a covetous glance, longing to sink into the capacious tub and have the numerous jets
work magic on her tense muscles…except she couldn't afford the luxury of unlimited time.

The shower beckoned, and she twisted the dial, adjusted the temperature, then stepped beneath the cascading water, collected the rose-scented soap and began lathering her skin.

She felt tired and emotionally wrung out and, dammit, she hurt in places she didn't even want to think about.

A slight sound alerted her attention, and she turned, gasping out loud as Nicos stepped naked into the shower stall with her.

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

He took the soap from her nerveless fingers. ‘I'd think it was obvious.'

‘Oh, no, you don't,' Katrina said with a growl as he smoothed the soap over her shoulder. She made to grab it from him, and failed. ‘Give me that!'

‘Why don't you just relax?'

Relax?
She was about as relaxed as a tightly coiled spring.
‘Don't.'

His hands were effecting a soothing massage at the edge of her neck, and she gave a silent groan that was part pleasure, part despair as his fingers eased out the kinks, then shifted down her back, inch by blissful inch, then they began working their way up again.

It felt so good, she forgot her anger, the tension of the day, and she simply closed her eyes and relaxed beneath his touch.

He soaped every inch of her skin, slowly, and she
sighed as his fingers trailed the contours of her breast, then travelled low over her hips.

‘We don't have time for this.'

‘Yes, we do.'

His fingers slid towards her navel, then slipped down to tease the soft curling hair at the apex of her thighs…and stroked with unerring expertise.

‘We shouldn't arrive late.' She groaned as sensation began a slow spiral through her body.

‘No,' Nicos murmured in agreement, shifting his hands to bring her close against him.

He lowered his mouth over hers, gently brushing his lips against her own, then he slid his tongue between her teeth and initiated a slow, sensual exploration that heated her blood and sent her pulse thudding to a quickened beat.

She slid her hands to his shoulders and clung as he deepened the kiss to something so incredibly erotic she lost track of time and place. There was just the two of them, and the magic that was theirs alone.

Nicos eased back from the brink of passion, softening his mouth as he trailed his lips over hers, pressing light kisses to each corner, the slightly swollen lower curve, before burying his mouth into the vulnerable hollow at the base of her neck.

How long did they remain like that? Five minutes? Ten?
More?

Katrina felt wonderfully mellow, and filled with a lazy warmth that crept towards wanting more.

‘We should get out of here,' she began to say ten
tatively, and felt his lips trail up to settle against her temple.

‘Uh-huh.'

She leaned forward and closed the water dial while Nicos snagged a towel, handing it to her before catching up another for himself.

The temptation to linger was great. Even greater was the need to stay in and not venture from the bedroom at all.

‘Later,' Nicos promised, his eyes dark with slumbering passion as he pressed a finger to her lips.

The art exhibition was held in a city gallery, featuring up-and-coming artists among whom two were gaining coveted acclaim.

Katrina wandered among the strategically placed paintings, and gravitated towards one that had caught her eye.

There was something in the use of colours that reminded her of Monet and the garden theme he so loved to depict on canvas. Beautifully framed, it reminded her of the French countryside with its fresh fields and flowers.

‘Like it?'

‘Yes, I do.' It would look perfect in her apartment. Or better yet, hanging on a wall in her office.

She moved on, aware Nicos had become caught up in conversation with a fellow business associate.

‘Dear Katrina, we do seem to garner invitations to the same events.'

‘Enrique.' She acknowledged. ‘Why am I not surprised to see you here?'

‘I have contacts, connections,' he relayed with a glib smile. ‘Schmoozing is the name of the game, and I excel at working a room.'

‘Alone?'

‘Young, budding artists aren't Chloe's thing. Have you thought about my offer?'

‘I don't need to think. The answer, as always, is the same.'

‘Katrina,' Enrique chastised, shaking his head. ‘I'm willing to trade information to your advantage.'

‘No.'

‘No?'
He waited a beat. ‘Aren't you in the least curious to hear some interesting facts about Georgia's love-child? Facts Nicos can substantiate?'

A cold hand clenched round her heart. ‘That's old news.'

‘It made good copy at the time.'

‘Is there anything you won't do for money?' she demanded fiercely.

‘I have an expensive habit, darling, which needs constant feeding.' His smile reminded her of a shark baring its teeth. ‘It matters little whether the newspaper pays me, or you do.'

‘Go to hell.'

‘I take it that's a
no
?'

‘A very definite and permanent refusal to your demands, now or at any time in the future,' Nicos said in a dangerously quiet voice. ‘Take heed, Enrique. If you contact Katrina again, I'll have a restraining order served on you before you can blink.'

‘You can't threaten me!'

Belligerence tempered with false bravado didn't augur well with a man of Nicos's calibre. ‘I've stated facts.' His voice was hard, almost deadly with intent. ‘It's your choice whether you comply or not.'