The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (46 page)

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Authors: Helen Bianchin

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Collections & Anthologies, #Contemporary Women, #General

BOOK: The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections)
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She wasn't prepared for the restrained savagery evident as his mouth fastened on hers, forcing it open and controlling it as his tongue pillaged the inner sweetness. It was a deliberate ravishment of her senses. Claim-staking, punishing. She lost all sensation of time as one hand slid through her hair to hold fast her head, while the other curved low down her back.
Then the pressure eased, and the punishing quality changed to passion, gradually dissipating to a sensuous gentleness that curled round her inner core and tugged at her emotions, seducing until she was weak-willed and malleable.
From somewhere deep inside she dredged sufficient strength to tear her mouth free, and her body trembled as he traced the edge of his thumb across the swollen contours of her lips.
‘Nina is nothing to me, do you understand? She never has been. Never will be.'
She didn't say a word. She just looked at him, glimpsed the faint edge of regret, and was incapable of moving.
He pulled her close and buried her head in the curve of his shoulder, then he pressed his lips to her hair.
Aysha could feel the power in that large body, the strength, and she felt strangely ambivalent. ‘I don't want you to stay.'
‘Because you'll only hate me in the morning?'
She drew a shaky breath. ‘I'll hate myself even more.'
All he had to do was kiss her, and she'd change her mind. Part of her wanted him so much it was an impossible ache. Yet if she succumbed she'd be lost, and that wouldn't achieve a thing.
He held her for what seemed an age, then he turned her face to his and brushed his lips across her own, lingered at one corner and angled his mouth into hers in a kiss that was so incredibly evocative it dispensed with almost all her doubts.
Almost, but not quite. He sensed die faint barrier, and gently put her at arm's length.
‘I'll pick you up at seven, OK?'
It was easy to simply nod her head, and she watched as he turned and walked to the door. Seconds later she heard his car's engine start, and she checked the lock, then activated security before crossing to her room.
Sleep seemed a distant entity, and she switched on the television in the hope of discovering something which would occupy her interest Except channel-hopping provided nothing she wanted to watch, and she retired to her bedroom, then lay staring at the ceiling for what seemed hours before finally slipping into a restless slumber in which vivid dreams assumed nightmarish proportion as Nina took the role of vamp.
A
YSHA woke early, padded barefoot to the kitchen, poured herself some fresh orange juice, then headed outdoors to swim several laps of the pool.
After fifteen minutes or so she emerged, towelled off the excess moisture, then retreated indoors to change and make breakfast.
The ambivalence of the previous evening had disappeared, and in the clear light of day it seemed advantageous for she and Carlo to spend the weekend apart.
With that thought in mind she crossed to the phone and punched in his number. The answering machine picked up, and she replaced the receiver down onto the handset.
He was probably in the shower, or, she determined with a glance at her watch, he could easily have left. She keyed in the digits that connected with his mobile, and got voicemail.
Damn. It would have been less confrontational to cancel via the phone than deal with him in person.
It was almost seven when Carlo walked into the kitchen, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of her in cut-off denims and skimpy top.
‘You're not ready.'
‘No.' Her response was matter-of-fact. ‘I think we both need the weekend apart.'
His expression was implacable. ‘I disagree. Go change and get your holdall. We don't have much time.'
‘Give me one reason why I should go?' she demanded, tilting her chin at him in a way that drove him crazy, for he wanted to kiss her until all that fine anger melted into something he could deal with.
‘I can give you several But right now you're wasting valuable time.'
Without a word he strode through the lounge and ascended the stairs. She followed after him, watching as he entered the bedroom, opened a cupboard, extracted a leather holdall and tossed it down onto the bed, then he riffled through her clothes, selected, discarded, then opened drawers and took a handful of delicate underwear and dumped it in the holdall.
‘What in hell do you think you're doing?'
A pair of heeled pumps followed sandals.
‘I would have thought it was obvious.'
He moved into the
en suite
bathroom, collected toiletries and make-up, and swept them into a cosmetic case. He lifted his head long enough to spare her a searching look.
‘You might want to change.'
Her eyes flashed fire. ‘I might not,' she retaliated swiftly.
He shrugged his shoulders, pressed everything into the holdall, then closed the zip fastener.
‘OK, let's go.'
‘Don't you
listen
?' His implacability brought her to a state of rage. ‘I am not going anywhere.'
Carlo was dangerously calm. Too calm. ‘We've already done this scene.'
Aysha was too angry to apply any caution. ‘Well,
hell
. Let's do it again.'
‘No.' He slung the holdall straps over one shoulder, then he curved an arm round her waist and hoisted her over one shoulder with an ease that brought forth a gasp of outrage.
‘You fiend! What do you think you're doing?'
‘Abducting you.'
‘In the name of God...
Why?
'
Carlo strode out of the room and began descending the short flight of stairs. ‘Because we're flying to the Coast, as planned.'
She struggled, and made no impression. In sheer frustration she pummelled both hands against his back. ‘Put me down!'
He didn't alter stride as he negotiated the stairs, and she aimed for his ribs, his kidneys, anywhere that might cause him pain. All to no avail, for he didn't so much as grunt when each punch connected.
‘If you don't put me down this
instant
, I'll have you arrested for attempted kidnapping, assault, and anything else I can think of!'
Carlo reached the impressive foyer, took three more steps, then lowered her to stand in front of him.
‘No, you won't.'
He was bigger, broader, taller than her, yet she refused to be intimidated. ‘Want to bet?'
‘Cool it,
cara
.'
‘I am not your darling.'
His mouth curved with amusement, and she poked him several times in the chest.
‘Don't you
dare
laugh!'
He curled his hands over her shoulders and held her still. ‘What would you have me do? Kiss you? Haul you across one knee and spank your deliciously soft
derrière
?'
‘Soft?' She worked out, and while her butt might be curved, it was tight
‘If you keep opposing me, I'll be driven to effect one or the other.'
‘Lay a hand on me, and I'll—'
He was much too swift, and any further words she might have uttered were lost as his mouth closed over hers in a deep, punishing kiss which took hold of her anger and turned it into passion.
Aysha wasn't conscious when it changed, only that it did, and the fists she lashed him with gradually uncurled and crept up to his nape to cling as emotion wrought havoc and fragmented all her senses.
Carlo slowly eased the heat, and his mouth softened as he gently caressed the swollen contours of her lips, then pressed light butterfly kisses along the tender curve to one corner and back again.
When he lifted his head she could only look at him with drenched eyes, and he traced a forefinger down the slope of her nose.
‘Now that I have your full attention... A weekend at the Coast will remove us from all the madness. No pressures, no demands, no social engagements.'
And no chance of accidentally bumping into Nina.
‘Last call, Aysha,' Carlo indicated with a touch of mockery. ‘Stay, or go. Which is it to be?'
It wasn't the time for deliberation. ‘Go,' she said decisively, and heard his husky laughter.
They made the flight with ten minutes to spare, and touched down at Coolangatta Airport just over an hour later. It was almost ten when they checked into the hotel, and within minutes of entering into their suite Aysha crossed to the floor-to-ceiling glass window fronting the Broadwater, and released the sliding door.
She could hear the muted sound of traffic, voices drifting up from the pool area. Adjacent was an enclosed man-made beach with a secluded cave and waterfall.
In the distance she could see the architecturally designed roof resembling a collection of sails atop an exclusive shopping centre fronting a marina and connected by a walkway bridge to an exclusive ocean-front hotel.
A few minutes later she sensed rather than heard him move to stand behind her.
‘Peaceful.'
It was, and she said so. ‘Yes.'
His arms curved round her waist and he pulled her close. ‘What do you want to do with the day?'
There was a desperate need to get out of the hotel suite, and lose herself among the crowds. ‘A theme park?' She said the first one that came into her head. ‘Dreamworld.'
He hid a wry smile. ‘I'll organise it.'
‘Just like that?'
‘We can hire a car and drive into the mountains, take any one of several cruises.' His shoulders shifted as he effected a lazy shrug. ‘You get to choose.'
‘For today?'
‘All weekend,' he said solemnly.
‘Give me too much power, and it might go to my head,' Aysha teased, suddenly feeling more in control.
‘I doubt it.'
He knew her too well. ‘After dinner we go to the Casino, then tomorrow we do Movieworld.' Crowds, lots of people. Which left only the hours between midnight or later and dawn spent in this beautiful suite, with its very large, prominently positioned bed.
Dreamworld was fun. They played tourist and took a bus there, went on several rides, ate hot dogs and chips as they wandered among the crowd. Aysha laughed at the white tigers' antics, viewed the Tower of Terror and voiced an emphatic
no
to Carlo's suggestion they take the ride.
It was almost six when the bus deposited them outside the hotel.
‘I'll have first take on the shower,' Aysha indicated as they rode the lift to their designated floor.
‘We could share.'
‘I don't think that's a good idea,' she said evenly. Just remembering how many showers they'd shared and their inevitable outcome set all her fine body hairs on edge.
The lift slid to a stop and she turned in the direction of their suite.
Inside, she collected fresh underwear and entered
the large bathroom. The water was warm and she adjusted the dial, undressed, then stepped into the tiled stall.
Seconds later the door slid open and her eyes widened as Carlo joined her.
‘What do you think you're doing?'
‘Sharing a shower isn't necessarily an invitation to have sex,' he said calmly, and took the soap from her nerveless fingers.
He was too close, but there was no further room to move.
‘Want me to shampoo your hair?'
‘I can do it,' she managed in a muffled voice, and she missed his slight smile as he uncapped the courtesy bottle and slowly worked the gel into her hair.
His fingers began a gentle massage, and she closed her eyes, taking care to stifle a despairing groan as he rinsed off the foam.
Not content, he palmed the soap and proceeded to smooth it over her back, her buttocks, thighs, before tending to her breasts, then her stomach.
‘Don't,' Aysha begged as he travelled lower, and she shook her head in mute denial when he placed the soap in her hand, then guided it over his chest.
Her fingers scraped the curling hair there, and she felt the tautness of his stomach, then consciously held her breath as he'd traversed lower.
His arousal was a potent force, and she began to shake with the need for his possession. It would be so easy to let the soap slip from her hand and reach for him. To lift her face to his, and invite his mouth down to hers.
Then he turned and his voice emerged as a silky drawl. ‘Do my back,
cara
.'
She thrust the soap onto its stand, and slid open the door. ‘Do it yourself.'
Aysha escaped, only because he let her, she was sure, and she caught up a towel, clutched hold of her underwear, and moved into the bedroom.
It was galling to discover her hands were trembling, and she quickly towelled herself dry, then wound the towel turban-wise round her head.
By the time Carlo emerged she was dressed, and she re-entered the bathroom to utilise the hairdrier, then tend to her make-up.
White silk evening trousers, a gold-patterned white top, minimum jewellery, and white strapped heeled pumps made for a matching outfit.
Black trousers and a white chambray shirt emphasised his dark hair and tanned skin. He'd shaved, and his cologne teased her nostrils, creating a havoc all its own with her senses.
‘Ready?'
They caught a taxi to the Casino, enjoyed a leisurely meal, then entered the gambling area.
Aysha's luck ran fickle, while Carlo's held, but she refused to use his accumulated winnings, choosing instead to watch him at the blackjack table. Each selection was calculated, his expression impossible to read. Much like the man himself, she acknowledged silently.
It was after one when they returned to the hotel. Aysha felt pleasantly tired, and in their suite she slipped out of her clothes, cleansed her face of make-up,
then slid into bed to lie quietly with her eyes closed, pretending sleep.
Moments later she felt the mattress depress as Carlo joined her, and she measured her breathing into a slow, steady rise and fall. Grateful, she told herself, that Carlo's breathing gradually acquired a similar pattern.
Why was it that when you didn't want something, you felt cheated when you didn't receive it? Aysha queried silently. The size of the bed precluded any chance of accidentally touching, and she didn't feel inclined to instigate the contrived kind...
‘Come on, sleepyhead, rise and shine.'
Aysha heard the voice and opened her eyes to brilliant sunshine and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. It was
morning
already?
‘Breakfast,' Carlo announced. ‘You have three quarters of an hour to eat, shower and dress before we need to take the bus to Movieworld.'
What had happened to the night? You slept right through it, a tiny voice taunted. Wasn't that what you wanted?
They boarded the bus with a few minutes to spare, and there were thrills and spills and fun and laughter as the actors went through their paces. The various stuntmen and women earned Aysha's respect and admiration as more than once a scene made her catch her breath in awe of the sensitive degree of timing and expertise involved.

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