Читать книгу Marriage Of Convenience - Helen Bianchin - Страница 10

ALESHA spent what remained of the morning attending to the immediate business at hand, and chose to have her PA send out for a chicken and salad sandwich with mayo on rye and a double-strength latte.

Something that became a working lunch eaten at her desk as she accessed computer data, inserted reference notations, took phone calls and instructed Anne to clear an hour between three-thirty and four-thirty.

The adherence to punctuality was something Alesha considered important…personally, and professionally. And this was business, she qualified as she allowed time to freshen up before presenting herself at Dimitri’s…dammit, Loukas’ office on time.

He stood close to the plate-glass window with its cityscape view of the inner harbour, cellphone at his ear in quiet conversation as he gestured she take a seat.

Contrarily she opted to remain standing, and she caught his faint gleam of amusement as he continued conversing in French…with a woman, from the light tone of his voice.

A lover? Past or present? Certainly a close friend.

She told herself she didn’t care…and, in truth, she didn’t. So how did she explain the sudden warmth flooding her veins, the slow invidious curling sensation deep within?

Because she envied the woman his affectionate attention?

Oh, please. Get real. She no more wanted another man in her life than she wanted to fly over the moon.

Especially not this man. Impressive, too powerful, too much.

A slight shiver feathered the length of her spine. Way too much on a personal level.

Why not call it as it was? The forceful Greek exuded a magnetic sexuality that verged close to the primitive.

The sensual promise was there, almost a tangible entity, and for one wild moment she wondered what it would be like to be ravished beneath his hands, his mouth…dear God, his possession.

Soul-destroying. Utterly. Completely.

Enough already, she upbraided silently. Focus on the here and now.

Dimitri’s office had undergone a few changes. State-of-theart electronic technology replaced the standard desktop her father had preferred, several files were stacked at the end of the desk, an MP3 player. Tidy, but very much the workspace of a busy man.

‘Shall we leave?’

Alesha cast Loukas a deceptively cool glance as he pocketed his cellphone, collected a briefcase, laptop, and indicated she precede him from the room.

‘I’ll meet you at the lawyer’s office,’ she indicated as the lift transported them down to the underground parking area.

‘We’ll go together in my car.’

‘It might be easier if I follow you.’

The lift doors slid open and Loukas shot her an analytical look as they entered the concrete cavern. ‘Are you determined to debate me on every issue?’

The air sizzled with a tension she refused to define. She should cease and desist, but there was a dangerous imp sitting on her shoulder bent on mischief and mayhem.

‘My apologies.’ She offered him a sweet smile. ‘I tend to forget most women merely exist to do your bidding.’

‘But not you.’ His drawled response held a tinge of humour.

‘No,’ she managed with a degree of dry mockery. ‘However, in this instance I’ll concede and get a taxi back to the office when we’re done.’

They reached the Aston Martin and he unsecured the locking mechanism to the doors, the trunk, deposited his briefcase and laptop, then closed the trunk. ‘I’ll drop you off before I continue on to the airport.’

‘It’s out of your way.’

‘Get in the car, Alesha.’ His voice held a silky quality that boded ill for further argument.

She slid into the passenger seat and waited until he moved in behind the wheel before posing with deliberate sweetness, ‘Are you always so appallingly arrogant?’

He ignited the engine. ‘Whenever the occasion demands.’

Inner-city traffic and numerous electronically-controlled intersections ensured it took fifteen minutes to cross town, a further five to find a parking bay beneath the lawyer’s office building.

Alesha was conscious of Loukas’ studied look as he jabbed the call-button summoning the lift, and she tilted her head a little as she held his gaze.

‘What?’ she challenged. ‘My mascara is smudged? Too much bronzing powder or not enough?’

‘Faultless.’ His silky drawl held a tinge of amusement as the lift drew to a smooth halt.

‘While you resemble the quintessential male,’ she responded an instant before she preceded him into the spacious reception area.

Within a very short space of time she’d sign documentation detailing precise legalese pertaining to the terms outlined in Dimitri’s will. A prenup covering every known contingency.

Copies of which she’d already perused.

So why now were the nerves in her stomach tying themselves in knots?

Because each step she took brought her closer to a marriage she didn’t want. To a man she had no choice but to trust on every level.

Sure, she could opt out. Except losing Karsouli was too heavy a penalty to pay.

Consequently she listened to the lawyer’s clarification, the reassurance he felt beholden to relay.

When he was done, she took up a proffered pen, signed where indicated, then solemnly watched as Loukas attached his signature.

‘I consider it an honour to act as a witness to your marriage on Friday. Dimitri would be very pleased with this outcome.’

Alesha managed a faint smile at the lawyer’s words.

What about her? Didn’t she count? Or was she merely a pawn in a diabolical game?

Don’t go there. It’s done.

Almost.

Next step…marriage.

She preceded Loukas into the lift and pressed the ‘ground’ button on the instrument panel.

He stood too close as he chose ‘basement’, and when they reached street level he merely bypassed her command and sent the lift down.

Her mouth tightened and she cast him a fulminating glare…which had no effect whatsoever.

‘Give it up,’ Loukas advised as the lift doors slid open and he indicated the black Aston Martin.

He waited until they were both seated before engaging the engine. ‘Can I leave the choice of second witness with you?’

There was only one person she’d consider asking. Lacey Pattison, lifelong friend and trusted confidante who had, ironically, acted as chief bridesmaid at her first wedding. ‘Yes.’

Was there such a thing as the sound of silence? If so, it seemed to hang heavy in the car’s interior as he negotiated city traffic before easing the car into the kerb adjacent the office tower housing Karsouli.

‘You have my cellphone number if you have any concerns.’

She met his dark gaze with equanimity. ‘Is this where I wish you a safe flight?’

The edge of his mouth quirked a little. ‘I’ll be in touch Thursday evening.’

‘I might be otherwise engaged with a male stripper at a very private “hen” party.’ As if.

‘In which case, have fun.’

That was it? No macho follow-up?

‘Not quite.’

He read minds?

The next instant he leant forward and took her mouth with his own in a slow evocative kiss that drained the breath from her body…and then some.

There was no demand, just a sense of intent…his.

Then he straightened, and his eyes narrowed at her faintly dazed expression, the sudden paleness of her cheeks.

In one fluid movement she released her seat belt, caught up her bag and slid out from the passenger seat before crossing to the building’s foyer without so much as a backward glance.

It was only as she rode the lift that she permitted herself to reflect.

The feel of his mouth on her own lingered, and she pressed light fingers to her lips.

What was that?

No matter how she viewed it, there had been nothing to prepare her for the unexpected sensuality evident…or her reaction.

The unbidden need to deepen the kiss was merely a transitory figment of her imagination, she dismissed as she entered Reception and moved into her office.

The phone call to Lacey resulted in a barrage of rapid-fire questions, to which only truthful answers would suffice.

‘Okay,’ Lacey said with deliberate calm. ‘We’ve covered the who, why, when and where. I’ve done the ohmigod thing. Now it’s down to basics. What are you going to wear?’

‘I’m sure there’s something suitable in my wardrobe.’

‘We’ll go shopping tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Lacey—no.’

‘Yes. Double Bay.’ She named a place. ‘I’ll be there at three.’

‘I don’t finish until five.’

‘You’re the boss. Leave early.’

‘You’re impossible.’

‘Yes, I know. That’s why I’m your friend. Three, Alesha. Don’t be late. We have a lot of ground to cover in a short time.’

She opened her mouth to protest, except the faint click indicated Lacey had already hung up.

The next morning Alesha went into the office early, declined a lunch break and collected Lacey mid-afternoon to shop for the dress.

‘Coffee first, double shot of caffeine, double sugar,’ Alesha determined as Lacey indicated one of a few streets in exclusive Double Bay where boutiques offered designer wear with exorbitant price tags.

‘Darling, no.’ Lacey gave her a don’t mess with me look Alesha recognized from old. ‘Dress first, coffee later.’

‘I need sustenance.’

‘Delaying tactics,’ Lacey dismissed. ‘We’re shopping for your wedding dress. Something that cannot be rushed. We need to look.’

‘One boutique,’ Alesha stated firmly. ‘I choose, try it on, present plastic, we leave.’

Lacey’s smile was pure imp dressed in steel. ‘You think?’

Alesha achieved an expressive eye-roll. ‘I knew inviting you was asking for trouble.’

‘Precisely why you displayed some sense,’ came the airy response. ‘Chill,’ her friend commanded as they paused outside a small boutique with one model displayed in the window. ‘Let’s go inspect the merchandise, shall we?’

She uttered an expressive sigh. ‘I don’t think—’

‘You don’t need to think while I’m here to advise and guide.’

‘That’s what concerns me.’

The vendeuse greeted them with refined politeness, whereupon Lacey launched into her verbal spiel.

‘White, of course.’

‘Ivory,’ Alesha corrected.

‘Full-length,’ Lacey insisted.

‘Mid-calf.’

‘Stunning.’

She did the eye-roll thing. ‘Simple.’

‘Perhaps it would help if you tell me something about the venue, the reception, the number of guests,’ the vendeuse suggested.

‘A civil ceremony held in a private home with two witnesses.’

‘Ah. I see.’ There was a faint click of the fingers as she accurately appraised Alesha’s slim curves. ‘I think I can offer you something suitable.’

The design was fine, the colour was not.

‘It’s a very pale blush.’

‘Thank you, but no.’

The second boutique had the perfect gown, Chanel…except it only came in black. Alesha considered, only to be firmly outvoted by Lacey. ‘You are not getting married in black.’

‘Hey, whose wedding is this, anyway?’

‘Yours, and just because it’s not traditional, doesn’t mean we won’t do it right. Agreed?’

Lacey had a point. ‘Coffee,’ Alesha insisted.

‘Soon, promise. Let’s go.’

‘Heaven forbid…where? I thought we had a one-stop deal.’

Lacey took hold of her arm and led the way to the car.

‘Get in and drive.’

‘It had better be good.’

Doing it right was achieved in a beautiful little boutique that sold vintage designer gear. Gorgeous gowns in cream, ivory…and Alesha sighed as she caught sight of sheer perfection. A slim-fitting gown in layered ivory and pale champagne silk, accented by a fine pin-tucking edged with narrow lace.

‘Delicate strappy sandals with killer heels,’ Lacey advised. ‘Minimum jewellery, just diamond ear-studs. Maybe a bracelet.’

Alesha removed the gown, handed it to the sales person, endeavoured not to blink at the price, presented plastic and minutes later walked from the shop with a signature-emblazoned glossy carry-bag.

‘Strappy sandals,’ Lacey insisted. ‘Then we get to have coffee. OK?’

‘Thanks.’ She gave her friend an impulsive heartfelt hug. ‘I couldn’t have done this without you.’

A light bubbling laugh emerged as Lacey initiated a high-five gesture. ‘Who else, when we’ve been friends since for ever?’

‘Sisters in every way but by blood.’ There for each other, the first one to call.

It was later as they sat sharing coffee that Lacey adopted a serious expression. ‘You so deserve to be happy.’

Alesha smiled. ‘Wisdom over double-shot lattes?’

‘Loukas is a good guy.’

She slanted an eyebrow. ‘And you know this…because?’

‘I’ve met him, remember? He made a lasting impression.’

Alesha took time to sip her coffee. ‘That’s supposed to be reassurance?’

‘He’s hot. Those eyes. That mouth.’ Lacey gave a lascivious sigh. ‘Yum…and then some.’

‘Yum?’ she queried with quizzical amusement.

‘Uh-huh.’

A wicked smile widened her lips. ‘I think you need food. Plus, I owe you, big time. Let’s do dinner…my treat.’

Lacey laughed with delight. ‘Where?’

‘Your choice.’

‘Reckless. Definitely reckless.’ Lacey allowed a few seconds’ deliberation. ‘Italian. There’s this little restaurant that serves divine pasta to die for. It’s the other side of town.’

Alesha rose to her feet and paid the tab. ‘Let’s go.’

It became a wonderfully relaxing few hours as they enjoyed fine food, a glass of wine, reminisced and laughed.

True friendship was something to be treasured, and Alesha entered her apartment at evening’s end with a lighter heart.

The familiar nightmare came out of nowhere in the early pre-dawn hours, vivid, almost live in its intensity, and she woke breathing hard, her body soaked with sweat.

She reached for the bedside lamp and the room glowed with light.

Dear God.

She lifted a hand to her face, almost expecting in that instant to feel the heat, the swelling, the pain. Except her cheeks were cool, and for several long moments she worked at slowing her breathing, her rapidly beating pulse.

A silent voice prompted…You’re fine.

In the here and now…and alone.

With one smooth movement she cast aside the covers and padded out to the kitchen, brewed tea, then she subsided into a comfortable chair and channel-surfed until she found a comedy and didn’t move until the dawn gradually lightened the sky from indigo to pearl grey.

Then she hit the shower and dressed. Breakfast was yoghurt and fruit with a reviving shot of caffeine, before she fixed her make-up, gathered her laptop, bag, keys, and drove into the city.

Focus, concentrate on the day, Alesha urged as she rode the lift to the high floor housing Karsouli.

As days went, this one soon became a doozy, with her PA calling in sick, the replacement hesitant to take any initiative, minor delays resulting therefrom, and a laptop that decided to crash at a crucial moment. Fortunately the auto-save function ensured only a small amount of data was lost, but it took time to get the system up and running again…time that became increasingly scarce as the day progressed.

Consequently she skipped lunch, alternated coffee with bottled water, and made do with a banana mid-afternoon.

Running on empty was not advisable, and coupled with loss of sleep it tipped her into headache territory with increasing intensity.

At five she was tempted to give up, except another hour—two, tops—and she’d put the day’s work to bed. Given international time-zones, the data would be accessible, and any delay minimal.

She was almost done when her cellphone buzzed, and she automatically picked up…something she rarely did without first checking caller ID.

‘Alesha.’

There was no mistaking that deep, faintly accented voice. ‘Hi.’ As a greeting, it was sadly lacking.

‘I’m on my way up.’

So he was back…and here. He’d said he’d call, but she hadn’t counted on seeing him. Nor did she expect the slow curling sensation to begin deep within.

She wasn’t alone in the building…There would be others staying back catching up on work, the cleaning staff.

Minutes later he was there, his tall frame filling the aperture, and unbidden her pulse kicked into a faster beat as he moved into her office.

‘Working late?’

His voice was deceptively mild, his eyes faintly hooded as he took in her pale features, the dark circles beneath her eyes. She looked beat, almost fragile, and at a guess she was harbouring a headache.

Alesha deliberately focused her attention on the computer screen. ‘And you’re here…why?’

‘I need to collect a file which hasn’t been uploaded into the computer system.’

A mark against Dimitri’s recently reassigned PA?

Her father had expected efficiency…but not to the level demanded beneath Loukas’ direction.

‘Tough day?’

Like you wouldn’t believe. ‘I’m almost done.’

‘Good. You can share Chinese with me.’

She lifted her head and saw the paper sack he placed on her desk. ‘You brought food?’ Her stomach did a slow roll in anticipatory pleasure.

‘I missed lunch.’ And opted out of an in-flight meal that failed to provide sufficient sustenance to fuel a minimum four hours’ work. Following an intense few days of meetings, staff reorganization, and ironing out several kinks in the Karsouli infrastructure.

He thrived on brokering high-powered deals, but Karsouli was personal. Aware of the need for a different approach from the slash and burn techniques for which he’d gained a formidable reputation.

The necessity to input a few hours’ work didn’t faze him. What he hadn’t expected to see when he entered the office building’s underground parking area was Alesha’s silver BMW stationary in its parking bay.

Loukas heard her faint sigh as she hit save and closed down. With deft movements he snapped open the various containers and handed her a set of chopsticks.

‘Eat.’

She did, with evident enjoyment. ‘Thanks. This is so much better than a boiled egg and salad.’

‘No girls’ night out?’

‘The male stripper called in sick.’ Her response was slick, and she was almost sure she caught a faint gleam of humour apparent in his dark eyes.

‘No replacement available?’

‘Unfortunately.’

His presence unsettled her. There was something about him…a dangerous sexual chemistry combined with a primitive earthy quality that promised much.

It filled her with a curious tension, combining reluctant anticipation with a sense of trepidation.

Which seemed crazy. She didn’t even like him.

Or was that due to an emotional shutdown…hers? A case of ‘if you don’t think about it, it won’t happen’.

Some chance.

She should leave.

With that thought in mind, she gathered her jacket, her laptop and briefcase. ‘You have work to do.’

He stood up. ‘I’ll see you down to the car.’

‘That’s not necessary.’

He merely slanted an eyebrow and indicated she precede him. ‘I consider it is.’

She was tempted to argue. Instead she summoned a sweet smile. ‘How…’ she paused, then added with delicate intent ‘…kind.’

Her eyes widened as he trailed light fingers down her cheek in an unexpected gesture that stole the breath from her throat.

‘Get some sleep.’ Then he dropped his hand, and she stood still for a few heart-stopping seconds before brushing past him.

Thankfully the lift doors opened the instant she pressed the call-button, and she moved in ahead of him, then stood in silence as the cubicle transported them swiftly down to basement level.

It took only minutes to reach her car, and she released the locking mechanism, slid behind the wheel, engaged the ignition and drove towards the ramp leading to street level without a backwards glance.

Traffic in the inner city had eased from its peak-hour exodus, and she reached her apartment with a sense of relief.

A hot shower, attired in sleepwear, a cup of tea plus a couple of painkillers in hand, she curled up in a comfortable chair to watch TV for an hour or two before she retired for the night.

On the edge of sleep came the intrusive knowledge that tomorrow she would marry Loukas.

Share his home, his bed, eventually.

How long would he allow her solitary occupation in a bed next to his own? A few nights…a week?

Did it matter?

She told herself she didn’t care. Sex was just…sex. In the dark of night she could simply close her eyes and wait for the act to be over.

How difficult could it be?