The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (58 page)

It was then Cassandra saw Alicia move into his
circle, and she felt sickened by Alicia's effusive greeting.

With deliberate movements she positioned herself so Diego was no longer in her line of vision, and she initiated an animated conversation with Cameron about the merits of German and Italian motor engineering.

Cars numbered high on his list of personal obsessions, and he launched into a spiel of detailed data that went right over her head.

He was in his element, and she allowed her mind to drift as she tuned out his voice.

Diego didn't owe her any loyalty. If he'd issued her with an invitation to partner him here tonight, she would have refused. So why did she care?

Logic and rationale were fine, but they did nothing to ease the pain in the vicinity of her heart.

Are you crazy? she demanded silently. You don't even
like
him. Why let him get to you? Except it was too late…way too late. He was already there.

‘…and given a choice, I'd opt for Ferrari,' Cameron concluded, only to quizzically ask, ‘Have you heard a word I said?'

‘It was an interesting comparison,' Cassandra inclined with a faint smile.

‘Darling, don't kid yourself. You were miles away.' He paused for a few seconds, then said gently, ‘Alicia isn't
with
him. She's just trying to make out she is.'

‘I really don't care.'

‘Yes, you do. And that worries me.'

‘Don't,' she advised with soft vehemence. ‘I went into this with my eyes open.'

‘There's only the weekend, then it's over.'

Now, why did that send her into a state of mild despair?

It was a relief when the auditorium doors opened and the guests moved forward to await direction to their seats.

‘Cassandra. Cameron.'

She'd have recognised that faintly accented drawl anywhere, and she summoned a polite smile as she turned towards the man who'd joined them.

‘Diego,' she acknowledged, and watched as he shifted his gaze to Cameron.

‘If I had known you were attending I could have arranged a seating reallocation.'

‘I was gifted the tickets last night,' Cameron relayed with regret.

‘Pity.'

Alicia appeared at Diego's side, and curved her arm sinuously through his own. ‘Diego, we're waiting for you.' She made a pretence of summoning charm. ‘Cassandra, Cameron. I'm sure you'll excuse us?'

Diego deliberately released her arm from his, and Cassandra wondered if she was the only one who caught the dangerous glitter in Alicia's eyes.

To compound the situation, Diego ushered Cassandra and Cameron ahead, and Cassandra felt
Alicia's directed venom like hot knives piercing her back.

‘That was interesting,' Cameron accorded quietly as they slid into their seats. ‘Alicia is a first-class bitch.'

‘They deserve each other,' Cassandra declared with dulcet cynicism, and incurred a musing glance.

‘Darling, Diego is light-years ahead of her.'

‘Is that meant as a compliment or a condemnation?'

Cameron laughed out loud. ‘I'll opt for the former. I'm sure you prefer the latter.'

Wasn't that the truth!

The film proved to be a riveting example of superb technical expertise with hand-to-the-throat suspense that had the audience gasping in their seats.

Eventually the credits rolled, the lights came on, and guests began vacating the theatre.

Cassandra sent up a silent prayer she'd manage to escape without encountering Diego. Except the deity wasn't listening, and the nerves inside her stomach accelerated as he drew level with them in the foyer.

His gaze locked with hers, and she could read nothing from his expression. ‘We're going on for coffee, if you'd care to join us.'

Are you kidding? You expect me to sit opposite you, calmly sipping a latte, while Alicia plays the vamp?

‘Thank you, no,' she got in quickly before
Cameron had a chance to accept. ‘I have an early start in the morning.' She didn't, but he wasn't to know that, and she offered a sweet smile as he inclined his head.

‘I'll be in touch.'

Alicia's mouth tightened, and Cassandra glimpsed something vicious in those ice-blue eyes for a timeless second, then it was gone.

Cassandra wasn't conscious of holding her breath until Diego moved ahead of them, then she released it slowly, conscious of Cameron's soft exclamation as she did so.

‘Watch your back with that one, darling,' he cautioned. ‘Alicia has it in for you.'

She met her brother's wry look with equanimity. ‘Tell me something I don't know.'

They reached the exit and began walking towards where Cameron had parked the car. ‘If she discovers Diego is sleeping with you…' He left the sentence unfinished.

‘I can look after myself.'

He caught hold of her hand and squeezed it in silent reassurance. ‘Just take care, OK?'

‘C
ASSANDRA
, phone.'

Diego, it had to be.

Cassandra took the call, and tried to control the way her pulse leapt at the sound of his voice.

‘We're taking the mid-morning flight. I'll collect you at nine tomorrow.'

‘I can meet you at the airport.' That way her car would be there when they returned.

‘Nine, Cassandra,' he reiterated in a quiet drawl that brooked little argument, then he cut the connection.

He was insufferable, she fumed as she returned to her workspace.

The resentment didn't diminish much as day became night, and she rose early, packed, put out sufficient dry food and water for the cat, then a few minutes before nine she took the lift down to Reception.

The Gold Coast appeared at its sparkling best. Clear azure sky, late-spring warm temperatures, and sunshine.

Diego picked up a hire car and within half an hour they reached the luxurious Palazzo Versace hotel complex.

It was more than a year since Cassandra had last visited the Coast, and she adored the holiday atmosphere, the canal estates, the trendy sidewalk café's and casual lifestyle.

The hotel offered six-star accommodation, plus privately owned condominiums and several penthouse apartments.

Why should she be surprised to discover Diego owned a penthouse here? Or that he'd elected to take the extra total designer furnishing package including bed coverings and cushions, towels, china, glass-ware and cutlery?

The total look, she mused in admiration. Striking, expensive, and incredibly luxurious.

There was a million-dollar view from the floor-to-ceiling glass walls, and she took a deep breath of fresh sea air as Diego slid open an external glass door.

Delightful. But let's not forget the reason he's brought you here, an imp taunted silently.

Bedroom duties. The thought should have filled her with antipathy, but instead there was a sense of anticipation at a raw primitive level to experience again the magical, mesmeric excitement he was able to evoke.

Was it so wrong to want his touch, his possession without any emotional involvement other than the pleasure of the moment?

Don't kid yourself, she chided inwardly. Like it
or not, you're involved right up to your slender neck!

After this weekend her life would return to normal…
whatever
normal meant. Work, she mused as Diego took their overnight bags through to the bedroom. The usual social activities…which would never be quite the same again as she encountered Diego partnering Alicia, or any one of several other women all too willing to share his evening. Dammit, his
bed
.

How would she cope, imagining that muscular male body engaged in the exchange of sexual body fluids? The entanglement of limbs, the erotic pleasure of his mouth savouring warm feminine skin as he sought each sensual hollow, every intimate crevice?

It would be killing, she admitted silently. Perhaps she could retreat into living the life of a social recluse, and simply bury herself in work.

Except that would be accepting defeat, and she refused to contemplate a slide into negativity.

For now, there was the day, and she intended to make the most of it. With or without him. The night he would claim as his, but meantime…

Cassandra heard him re-enter the spacious lounge, and she lifted a hand and gestured to the view out over the Broadwater. ‘It's beautiful here.'

Diego moved to stand behind her, and she was supremely conscious of him. Her skin tingled in re
action to his body warmth, and the temptation to lean back against him was almost irresistible.

‘Do you spend much time here?' It seemed almost a sacrilege to leave the apartment empty for long periods of time.

‘The occasional weekend,' he drawled.

But not often, she concluded, and wondered if and when he took a break to enjoy the fruits of his success. He possessed other homes, in other countries…perhaps he chose somewhere more exotic where he could relax and unwind.

‘Lunch,' Diego indicated. ‘We can eat in the restaurant here, cross the road to the Sheraton Hotel, or explore nearby Tedder Avenue.'

She turned towards him and saw he'd exchanged tailored trousers for shorts, and joggers replaced hand-tooled leather shoes.

‘You're allowing me to choose?'

‘Don't be facetious,' he chided gently.

‘Tedder Avenue,' Cassandra said without hesitation. ‘We can walk there.' Half a kilometre was no distance at all.

One eyebrow rose in quizzical humour. ‘You want exercise, I can think of something more athletic.'

‘Ah, but my sexual duties don't begin until dark…remember?'

He pressed an idle finger to the lower curve of her lip. ‘A sassy mouth could get you into trouble.'

‘In that case, I'll freshen up and we can leave.'

His husky laugh curled around her nerve-ends, pulled a little, then she stepped around him and walked through to the master bedroom.

She took a few minutes to change into tailored shorts and blouse, then she snagged a cap, her shoulder bag, and re-entered the lounge.

‘Let's hit the road.'

It was a pleasant walk, the warmth of the sun tempered by a light breeze, and they settled on one of several pavement cafés, ordered, then ate with evident enjoyment.

They were almost ready to leave when Diego's cellphone buzzed, and she looked askance when he merely checked the screen and didn't pick up.

‘It'll go to message-bank.'

‘Perhaps you should take that,' Cassandra said when it buzzed again a few minutes later.

Diego merely shrugged and ignored a further insistent summons.

Within a few minutes Cassandra's cellphone buzzed from inside her bag, and she retrieved it, saw the unfamiliar number displayed, then engaged the call.

‘You're with Diego.' The feminine voice was tight with anger. ‘Aren't you?'

Oh, lord. ‘Alicia?'

‘He's taken you to the Coast for the weekend, hasn't he?'

‘What makes you think that?'

‘Fundamental mathematics.'

‘No chance you might be wrong?'

‘Darling, I've already checked. Diego picked you up from your apartment this morning.'

Counting to ten wouldn't do it. Hell, even
twenty
wouldn't come close. ‘You have a problem,' Cassandra managed evenly.

‘
You
in Diego's life is the problem.'

‘I suggest you discuss it with him.'

‘Oh, I intend to.'

She cut the connection and met Diego's steady gaze with equanimity. ‘You owe Alicia an explanation.'

‘No,' he said quietly. ‘I don't.'

‘She seems to think you do.'

The waitress presented the bill, which he paid, adding a tip, then when she left he sank back in his chair and subjected Cassandra to an unwavering appraisal.

‘Whatever Alicia and I shared ended several months ago.'

She raised an eyebrow and offered him a cynical smile. ‘Yet you continue to date her?'

‘We have mutual friends, we receive the same invitations.' He lifted his shoulders in a negligible shrug. ‘Alicia likes to give the impression we retain a friendship.'

She couldn't help herself. ‘Something she manages to do very well.'

Diego's eyes hardened. ‘That bothers you?'

‘Why should it?'

Did she think he was oblivious to the way her pulse quickened whenever he moved close? Or feel the thud of her heart? The soft warmth colouring her skin, or the way her eyes went dark an instant before his mouth found hers?

‘It's over, and Alicia needs to move on.'

A chill slithered down her spine. As she would have to move on come Monday? What was she
thinking
, for heaven's sake? She couldn't wait for the weekend to be over so she could get on with her life.

A life in which Diego didn't figure at all.

Now, why did that thought leave her feeling strangely bereft?

‘Let's walk along the beach,' Cassandra suggested as they stood to their feet. She had the sudden need to feel the golden sand beneath her feet, the sun on her skin, and the peace and tranquillity offered by a lazy outgoing tide.

The ocean lay a block distant, and within minutes she slid off her sandals and padded down to the damp, packed sand at the water's edge.

They wandered in companionable silence, admiring the long, gentle curve stretching down towards Kirra. Tall, high-rise apartment buildings in varying height and colour dotted the foreshore, and there was a fine haze permeating the air.

Children played in the shallows while parents stood guard, and in the distance seagulls hovered, seemingly weightless, before drifting slowly down
onto the sand to dig their beaks in in search of a tasty morsel.

It was a peaceful scene which changed and grew more crowded as they neared Surfer's Paradise.

‘Feel like exploring the shops?' Diego ventured, and Cassandra inclined her head.

‘Brave of you. That's tantamount to giving a woman
carte blanche
.'

‘Perhaps I feel in an indulgent mood.'

‘Who would refuse?' she queried lightly, and changed direction, pausing as they reached the board-walk to brush sand from her feet before slipping on her sandals.

It became a delightful afternoon as they strolled along an avenue housing several designer boutiques before venturing down another where Cassandra paused to examine some fun T-shirts.

She selected one and took it to the salesgirl, whereupon Diego extracted his wallet and passed over a bill.

‘No.' Cassandra waved his hand aside, and shot him an angry glance as he insisted, to the amusement of the salesgirl, who doubtless thought Cassandra a graceless fool. ‘Thank you, but no,' she reiterated firmly as she forcibly placed her own bill into the salesgirl's hand.

She was the first woman who'd knocked back his offer to pay, and her fierce independence amused him. There had been a time when he'd had to watch every cent and look to handouts for clothing and
food. Nor was he particularly proud he'd resorted to sleight-of-hand on occasion. Very few knew he now donated large sums of money each year to shelters for the homeless, and funded activity centres for underprivileged children.

‘Let's take a break and linger over a latte,' Diego suggested as they emerged from the shop.

‘Can't hack the pace, huh?' Cassandra teased as she tucked her fingers through the plastic carry-bag containing her purchase.

There wasn't an ounce of spare flesh on that powerful body, and she wondered what he did to keep fit.

A gym? Perhaps a personal trainer?

They took a cab back to the Palazzo as dusk began to fall, and on entering the penthouse Cassandra headed for the bedroom, where she gathered up a change of clothes and made for the
en suite
.

There was a necessity to shampoo the salt-mist from her hair, and she combined it with a leisurely shower, then she emerged from the glass stall, grabbed a bath-towel and she had just secured it sarong-style when Diego walked naked into the
en suite
.

Oh, my, was all that came immediately to mind. Superb musculature, olive skin, a light smattering of dark, curly hair on his chest. Broad shoulders, a tapered waist, slim hips…

She forced her appraisal to halt there, unable to
let it travel lower for fear of how it would affect her composure.

It was difficult to meet his gaze, and she didn't even try. Instead she moved past him and entered the bedroom, sure of his faint husky chuckle as she closed the door behind her.

There was a certain degree of satisfaction in witnessing her discomfort. In truth, it delighted him to know she wasn't entirely comfortable with him, and there was pleasure in the knowledge her experience with men was limited.

His body reacted at the thought of the night ahead. Her scent, the taste of her skin…
por Dios,
how it felt to be inside her.

He hadn't felt quite this sense of anticipation for a woman since his early teens when raging hormones made little distinction between one girl or another.

Now there was desire and passion for one woman, only one. Cassandra.

If he had his way, he'd towel himself dry, go into the bedroom and initiate a night-long seduction she'd never forget.

Soon, he promised himself as he turned the water dial from hot to cold. But first, they'd dine at the restaurant downstairs overlooking the pool. Fine wine, good food.

Cassandra put the finishing touches to her make-up, then she caught up an evening purse and preceded Diego from the apartment.

The classic black gown with its lace overlay was suitable for any occasion. The very reason she'd packed it, together with black stiletto-heeled pumps. A long black lace scarf wound loosely at her neck was a stunning complement, and she wore minimum jewellery, diamond ear-studs and a diamond tennis bracelet.

With her hair twisted into an elegant knot atop her head, she looked the cool, confident young woman. Who was to know inside she was a mass of nerves?

Act,
a tiny voice prompted. You can do it, you're good at it. Practised social graces. Taught in the very best of private schools.

The restaurant was well-patronised, and the
maître d'
presided with friendly formality as he saw them seated.

Wine? One glass, which she sipped throughout the meal, and, although they conversed, she had little recollection of the discussion.

For there was only the man, and the sexual aura he projected. It was a powerful aphrodisiac…primitive,
lethal
.

She had only to look at his hands to recall the magic they created as they stroked her skin. And his mouth…the passion it evoked in her was to die for, almost literally.

For she did die a little with each orgasm as he led her towards a tumultuous climax and joined her at
the peak, held her there, before toppling them both in glorious free-fall.