Читать книгу Dangerous Alliance - HELEN BIANCHIN, Helen Bianchin - Страница 4

THERE was a soft thud as the Boeing’s wheels hit the tarmac, followed by a shrill scream of brakes as the powerful jet decelerated down the runway.

The flight had been smooth and uneventful, and merely one in a series of many which Leanne had taken between the Gold Coast and Melbourne during the past five years.

With one exception. This time Paige wouldn’t be waiting to meet her, and there would be no joyous reunion and exchanged laughter as mother and daughter attempted to catch up with each other’s news.

An ache began behind her eyes, and she blinked quickly in an effort to dispel the threat of tears as she gazed sightlessly out of the window.

It wasn’t fair that her beautiful mother should fall prey to a rare form of cancer, or that its stealthy invasion had proven to be so extensive that the medical professionals could only issue a grim prognosis. Within twenty-four hours of receiving the news, Leanne had arranged her flight and assigned a senior assistant to manage her beauty therapy clinic.

The engines wound down to a muted whine as the large jet wheeled off the runway, then cruised slowly towards its allotted bay.

Customary procedure completed, Leanne joined the queue of passengers vacating the aircraft, unaware of the appreciative glances cast in her direction. Vivid blue trousers and matching top in uncrushable silk accented her slim curves and were a perfect foil for her shoulder-length ash-blonde hair.

Within minutes she emerged into the arrival lounge, and she moved with ease towards the luggage carousel, her eyes skimming the conveyor belt for a familiar bag.

‘Leanne.’

The sound of that faintly accented drawl tore the breath from her throat, and her heartbeat stilled imperceptibly, then kicked in at an accelerated rate. It took only seconds to compose her features before she turned slowly to face the man standing within touching distance.

His tall, broad frame was sheathed in impeccable suiting, and strong, sculptured facial features, piercing grey eyes and dark well-groomed hair completed an arresting composite that few women could successfully ignore.

As head of the vast Kostakidas empire, he emanated a dramatic sense of power that was coveted by his contemporaries and viewed with supreme caution by those who chose to oppose him.

Dangerous, compelling, and intensely ruthless. Lethal, she added silently as she summoned a smile in greeting.

‘Dimitri.’

Five years ago she would have flung herself into his arms, accepted the teasingly affectionate brush of his lips against her cheek, and laughingly indulged in a harmless game of flirtatious pretence.

Now she stood quietly, her eyes clear and unwavering, their blue depths masking pain. ‘I thought you’d still be in Perth.’

One eyebrow rose slightly, and his expression assumed an edge of cynicism in silent reproof. ‘Like you, I rearranged my business affairs and caught the first available flight east.’

Her features were a carefully composed mask that hid a host of emotions. ‘It wasn’t necessary for you to meet me.’

He didn’t say anything. He had no need. She was Paige’s daughter and his late father’s silver-haired angel. As such, he would accord her every consideration, and refuse to concede her desire for independence.

Leanne felt her body quiver slightly, and she forced herself to maintain rigid control. ‘Have you seen Paige? How is she?’

His eyes held hers for a few timeless seconds, then his features softened. ‘An hour ago,’ he revealed. ‘She is as comfortable as it is possible for her to be.’

Paige had earned Dimitri’s affection ten years ago when she’d married his widowed father, and her warmth and generous nature had turned Yanis’s house into a home, softened the hard edges of a cynical, world-weary man whose sole focus in life appeared to be escalating his empire to monumental proportions while grooming his only son to follow in his footsteps. The ensuing five years had resulted in an abundance of love and harmony, until tragedy had struck with a boating accident that robbed them of husband, father and stepfather, and placed Dimitri at the helm of the vast Kostakidas corporation.

‘Which bag is yours?’

Dimitri had been educated in a number of countries, and his faint accent was an indistinguishable inflexion that lent itself easily to a fluency in several languages; Leanne shivered faintly as she attempted to maintain a mental distance from an intrusive memory.

‘The tan,’ she acknowledged, indicating its position on the carousel, and she watched as he extricated it with ease.

‘Shall we go?’

It was crazy to feel so incredibly vulnerable, she chastised herself silently as she walked at his side to the sleek, top-of-the-range maroon-coloured Jaguar parked at the kerbside immediately adjacent to the entrance.

Within minutes Dimitri urged the powerful vehicle into the flow of traffic exiting the terminal, and Leanne directed her attention to the scene beyond the windscreen, feeling strangely loath to indulge in idle conversation.

The car’s air-conditioning provided relief from the midsummer heat, and the sun’s glare was diffused by tinted windows through which the sky appeared as a clear azure, with only a whisper of soft cloud evident on the horizon.

Nothing appeared to have changed, Leanne mused as the Jaguar picked up speed on the freeway. Weathered brick homes dulled by pollution and age-lined suburban streets, and narrow steel tracks embedded into main arterial roads provided a linking tracery for electric trams as they whirred noisily to and from the city.

She drew a deep breath, then released it slowly. Melbourne was a large, bustling metropolis of multinationals with a culture that was wide and varied. It was the place where she was born, where she’d grown up and attended shool.

There was an intrinsic desire to turn back the clock. Except that that was impossible, for you could never recapture the past, she reflected sadly.

Now she’d stay for as long as Paige needed her, and afterwards she’d return to the Gold Coast where, thanks to Yanis’s generosity, she owned her own apartment and a successful beauty therapy clinic, ensuring not only financial independence, but a safety net that would enable her to sever the one remaining link to the Kostakidas family.

‘No attempt at polite conversation, Leanne?’

His voice held musing humour, and she cast him a pensive glance.

‘Your success in the business arena is well-chronicled in the financial reviews.’ She kept her eyes steady, and she even managed a faint smile. ‘Likewise, your social activities are reported in the tabloid Press.’ She paused, then allowed her gaze to rove carefully over his superb frame. ‘You’re obviously in good health...’ She trailed off, and effected a slight shrug. ‘I’m sure we can spare each other a rundown of our respective love lives.’

For a brief millisecond his eyes resembled dark ice, then soft, husky laughter emerged from his throat, and unless she was mistaken there was a degree of brooding respect evident in the glance he spared her.

‘You’ve grown up,’ he drawled lazily, and pain momentarily clouded her eyes.

‘At twenty-five, one would hope so,’ she responded sweetly.

‘I promised Paige I’d take you straight to the hospital,’ Dimitri said minutes later as he eased the car off the freeway.

A chill fear clutched her heart, and she searched his chiselled features for a hint of reassurance, and found none. It was two months since she’d seen her mother, and she agonised that she hadn’t detected even a glimmer of concern in Paige’s voice, a slight hesitancy—anything that might have betrayed a glimpse of anxiety relevant to a worrying health problem.

How could such a thing happen? she raged silently. Paige ate all the right foods, exercised and played tennis, never smoked, and drank minimally. Why?

Ten minutes later the Jaguar swung through open wrought-iron gates and traversed a wide, pebbled driveway to park at the rear of one of Melbourne’s most exclusive private hospitals.

As they passed through Reception the nurse spared Dimitri a smile tinged with a degree of wistful envy, whereas the sister in charge had no such qualms.

‘Mrs Kostakidas is resting quite comfortably.’ Her eyes held liquid warmth and a silent invitation, should the man at Leanne’s side choose to give the merest indication of interest.

Leanne watched with detached resignation, and wondered whether her exalted stepbrother would choose to make another conquest. In his late thirties, he was an intensely sensual man whose power, wealth and sheer physicality drew women like bees to a honeypot. Yet he had a select coterie of women friends with whom he chose to dine and indulge in social proclivities. Inevitably, there were some he surely bedded, but not, she suspected, indiscriminately. A newsprint photo taken at a recent glitzy function came vividly to mind; it had named his female companion as Shanna Delahunty, only daughter of Reginald Delahunty, the insurance magnate.

‘Paige’s suite is to the right.’

The quietly spoken words served as a timely warning, for they gave Leanne the few essential seconds necessary to seek control before she walked into the luxurious suite.

Despite having been given the grim medical facts, Leanne found it impossible to relate the gaunt, pale-featured woman lying propped against a nest of pillows with her mother.

It wasn’t easy to smile, and it took a tremendous strength of will to keep the tears at bay as she crossed to the bed and carefully embraced the slight figure. Paige’s bones appeared fragile, and her skin felt like fine tissue paper. It was if the essence of her mother had gone, and Leanne wanted to scream out against the unkind hand of fate.

‘Hello, darling.’ The words were softly spoken, the smile truly beautiful, as if the flickering flame deep within had gained a small measure of renewed life. A hand lifted, and faintly trembling fingers brushed the length of Leanne’s cheek. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’

The desire to weep was almost irrepressible, and Leanne gave a slight start as Dimitri curved an arm round her shoulders. His silent strength acted as a protective cloak, and she stood perfectly still, her features carefully schooled as Paige feasted her eyes lovingly on her daughter’s diminutive frame before shifting to the man at her side.

‘Thank you.’ The words were a soft whisper, and Dimitri’s eyes were dark, liquid with affection, yet when they slid towards Leanne they became vaguely smoky in silent warning, and she stiffened fractionally as his fingers shifted and began a subtle massage of the fine bones at the edge of her shoulder.

‘We’ll leave you to rest,’ he said as he leant forward to brush Paige’s cheek with his lips. ‘Leanne will call in after lunch, and we’ll both visit this evening.’

‘Yes.’

Paige’s voice was barely audible, and Leanne managed to contain her tears until they were in the corridor, then they spilled over and began trickling in twin rivulets down each cheek.

The corridor seemed longer than she remembered, and by the time she slid into the passenger seat she was an emotional wreck.

‘Why didn’t I know she was ill?’ Leanne demanded with a mixture of impotent rage and deep anguish, then, as a thought occurred to her, she turned towards the man who had just slid in behind the wheel. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Simply because I didn’t know,’ Dimitri assured her hardly. ‘Paige and I maintain weekly telephone contact, and I dine at the house every few weeks.’

In between business trips that took him from one Australian state capital to another, and numerous countries around the world, his base was a spacious penthouse suite atop a stylish apartment block barely two kilometres distant from his late father’s Toorak mansion.

‘Paige showed no signs of illness? Nothing?’ Leanne queried with disbelief.

‘I last saw her five weeks ago, and, although pale, she assured me she was recuperating well from a virulent flu virus.’ His eyes were dark, his expression reflective. ‘I left the next day for a series of meetings in the States, then Paris, Rome, followed by a stop-over in Perth. A fax from Paige’s medical adviser was waiting for me at the hotel,’ he relayed bleakly. ‘I rang you as soon as I had all the facts.’

‘She must have suspected something, surely?’ Leanne agonised huskily.

‘The medical professionals informed me she’s been aware of the severity of her condition for several months. It was her express wish to keep it private until such time as she required hospitalisation.’

Her throat felt painfully constricted, and she was barely managing to keep the tears at bay. Dammit, where was the slim pack of tissues she always carried? Moisture spilled over and ran down her cheeks, and her fingers shook as she brushed the tears away.

She heard his unintelligible oath, then a soft white square was pushed into her hand and he pulled her into the protective curve of his shoulder.

Her initial instinct was to move away, but she lacked sufficient strength to break free. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks and dampened his shirt, and she was vaguely aware of his fingers slipping beneath the weight of her hair to trace a soothing pattern across a collection of fragile bones.

She had no idea how long she remained there before she regained a measure of control. Only minutes, surely, she agonised despairingly

‘I’m sorry,’ she profferred in a slightly muffled voice as she attempted to pull free.

‘For what, Leanne?’ he drawled in cynical query. ‘Dropping your guard long enough to accept my compassion?’

‘I didn’t—’

‘Want to display any emotion in my presence?’

‘No,’ she retaliated bleakly, unwilling to show so much as a chink in her armour. She sat still and stared sightlessly out of the window, remembering all too vividly the numerous occasions when she’d deliberately sought his attention. Attention he’d affectionately fielded without hurting her vulnerable feelings, until the fateful night of her twenty-first birthday.

Leanne closed her eyes in an attempt to shut out a memory that was hauntingly clear in every detail.

Paige had provided a wonderful party with many invited friends, and Leanne had been so happy. No guest had been more important to her than Dimitri, and the secret wish she’d nursed that at last he would recognise her as a woman. Flushed with a dangerous sense of exhilaration, she’d flirted a little with every male friend, and enjoyed one glass too many of vintage champagne. At the end of the evening, when everyone had left and Paige had retired upstairs to bed, she’d reactivated the stereo system, selected a tape and teasingly begged Dimitri to share a dance.

Emboldened, she’d pressed her body a little too close to his and lifted her arms to clasp them around his nape. The top of her head had barely reached his chin, and she’d arched her neck, offered him a bewitching smile and teased that he had yet to bestow a birthday kiss.

It had begun as a teasing salutation, and had rapidly transgressed to something so infinitely sensual that she had simply discarded any inhibitions and given herself up to an exotic alchemy without any clear thought as to where it might lead.

She’d had no idea of the passage of time until she had been forcibly put at arm’s length, and his harsh words had sent her running upstairs to her bedroom to weep until almost dawn.

The next day he’d flown to Sydney, and during the ensuing weeks she had convinced Paige of the necessity to exert a new-found independence away from home, electing, despite Paige’s protests, to choose Queensland’s Gold Coast as her base.

Paige had become a frequent visitor, and Leanne had carefully arranged her weekends and holidays in Melbourne to coincide with Dimitri’s absence, although it had been impossible to avoid him completely. If he was on the Coast, he made a point of phoning and insisting on taking her out to dinner, or to a show, or both...in the guise of dutiful, stepbrotherly affection. His invitations had become a challenge she coolly accepted, for she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he still possessed the ability to ruffle her composure.

‘Paige is a rare jewel who succeeded in capturing my father’s heart, affording me unconditional affection without attempting to usurp Yanis’s loyalty to his son.’ Dimitri’s voice intruded, and she turned her head to look at him. ‘You,’ he added with quiet emphasis, ‘were an added bonus.’

Latent anger rose to the surface and threatened to erupt in speech. ‘You...’ Words momentarily failed her. ‘Bastard,’ she finally flung in whispered anguish. It was the wrong appellation, and, worse, an unforgivable insult. But at that precise moment she didn’t care.

The silence in the car was deafening, and she could sense his palpable anger. For a second she closed her eyes against the harshness of his features, then slowly opened them again.

Dimitri activated the ignition, then reversed out of the parking bay, and the crunch of tyres sounded abnormally loud as he eased the car towards the designated exit.

The exclusive suburb of Toorak hosted numerous homes belonging to the rich and famous, and the elegant residence that Yanis had built was no exception, she decided as Dimitri brought the Jaguar to a halt before a set of impressive wrought-iron gates, then activated the remote-control modem to open them.

The car swept down a wide, palm-lined driveway and drew to a halt beneath the porte cochère of a magnificent Mediterranean-style mansion whose white-rendered exterior and terracotta-tiled roof conjured up images of the hillside vineyard estates of the Côte d’Azur.

A grandly proportioned home, it contained over a hundred square feet of luxury living on two levels, with five bedrooms and six bathrooms in the main house, a guest cabana which included a lounge and bar, a free-form swimming-pool and a full-size tennis court.

Scrupulously maintained, its gracious formal rooms had been used to entertain Yanis’s business associates, and family friends. A generous man, he’d lent his name to a few worthy charities, and a small fortune in much needed funds had been raised through a variety of functions held here over the years.

Leanne slid from the car, then followed Dimitri through double leadlight doors to the formal entrance hall—a stately marble-tiled room with a crystal chandelier and sweeping mahogany staircase.

Although it had been her home for the past ten years, Leanne never failed to experience a feeling of awe at the sheer magnificence of displayed wealth.

Cream marble-tiled floors graced the ground floor, and there was an abundance of expensive Chinese silk rugs woven in designs employing mushroom, pink, pale blue and green against a cream background. Expensive tapestries graced the pale cream silk-covered walls, and vied for supremacy with original works of art. Yanis had indulged Paige her love of Louis XVI furnishings, and much of the furniture had been imported from France and Italy.

Now a chill slowly traversed the length of Leanne’s spine, and she had consciously to still the sudden shiver that threatened to shake her slender frame with the knowledge that, although Yanis had bequeathed this beautiful mansion to Paige for her exclusive use during her lifetime, upon her death it would inevitably revert to his son.

Which meant that within weeks Leanne would no longer be able to regard it as her home, for afterwards she knew she wouldn’t be able to bear seeing Dimitri here with the woman he would inevitably choose to take as his wife.

It shouldn’t be too difficult to reduce contact gradually to an occasional telephone call, a few brief, friendly written missives, followed by a card at Christmas.

‘Leanne, it is so good to see you.’

A heavily accented voice broke into her reverie, and she turned at once to exchange a warm greeting with Eleni Takis—cook and housekeeper who, together with her husband George, took care of the house and grounds.

‘Eleni.’ There was evidence of barely contained tears, and a wealth of genuine affection.

‘George will take up your luggage,’ Eleni declared as she stood back. ‘And lunch will be ready in thirty minutes.’

‘You shouldn’t have gone to any trouble,’ Leanne protested, knowing she’d have difficulty in consuming more than a few mouthfuls of anything.

‘Nonsense,’ Eleni admonished, and her appraisal of Leanne’s slender frame became faintly critical. ‘You have lost weight. In one so small, that is not good.’

‘If I ate even a half of what you served me, I’d go back to the Coast half a stone heavier and one dress size larger.’

Eleni looked slightly perplexed. ‘But this time you stay. Yes?’

‘Any messages, Eleni?’ Dimitri drawled, and Leanne intercepted an unspoken warning in his tone.

‘Your secretary rang. She is sending you faxes.’

Leanne shot him a quick, enquiring glance as Eleni departed, and met his dark, discerning gaze.

‘Paige requested I take up temporary residence, as she didn’t want you to be in the house on your own.’

Her stomach churned at the thought of having to live, even for a short time, in such close proximity to a man with whom she felt the antithesis of comfortable.

She drew a deep breath, then exhaled it slowly as she sought to keep her voice light. ‘I fail to see why, when I’ve lived alone for the past five years. Besides, Eleni and George live above the garages.’

His eyes narrowed fractionally. ‘Go upstairs and unpack. We’ll talk over lunch.’

About what, for heaven’s sake?

Her bedroom was spacious, airy, and had a splendid view of the pool and gardens. The muted colour scheme was restful, the furniture the epitome of elegance with its imported silk upholstery, and the adjoining en-suite bathroom was a feminine delight in the palest pink travertine marble with crystal and gold fittings.

Without further thought, she discarded her clothes and stepped into the shower cubicle, emerging minutes later to select elegant trousers and a top in pale sage-green cotton, then, dressed, she tended to her hair and make-up.

It was almost one when she entered the kitchen, and Eleni cast her a warm smile.

‘You are just in time. Everything is ready, except for the bread.’

‘I’ll take it through,’ Leanne offered promptly as she crossed to the oven. ‘Anything else?’

‘Just the lamb. The salads are on the table.’

It looked like a feast fit for a king, and far more than two people could possibly eat. There was chilled wine resting in a silver bucket, two exquisite crystal flutes, silver cutlery and the finest bone china.

Eleni took extreme pride in the house, preparing food and presenting a fine table. Paige was a gracious employer who attested that material possessions were useless if they reposed in cupboards and cabinets merely for visual display.

Dimitri entered the room within minutes, smiled indulgently at Eleni’s fussing, then took a seat opposite Leanne as the older woman retreated to the kitchen.

‘Wine?’

‘No—thank you,’ Leanne refused with the utmost politeness.

‘The keys to Paige’s Mercedes are in the top drawer of the cabinet in the foyer,’ he informed her as he filled his glass.

‘Thank you.’

His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You’re hardly a guest, Leanne. The car, or anything else you need, is at your disposal.’

She was about to utter thanks for the third time, then opted against it, choosing instead to attempt to do justice to the excellent Greek salad Eleni had prepared.

Perhaps if she concentrated on food, this crazy ambivalence would disappear. It was quite mad, but she felt as if she was teetering on the edge of a precipice, and nothing could shake her acute feeling of apprehension.

Overwrought, overtired and consumed with anxiety—all of which was quite logical in light of her mother’s state of health, she qualified as she speared a segment of feta cheese and attacked an olive.

The delicately roasted lamb fared little better, and she forked a few mouthfuls then pushed the remaining meat and accompanying vegetables round her plate before discarding it completely.

‘Not hungry?’

‘Eleni will disapprove,’ she offered ruefully.

Dimitri pushed his napkin on to the table and leaned back in his chair. ‘Relax, Leanne.’ His eyes were dark, enigmatic, yet there was a tinge of mockery evident.

‘What topic would you suggest we politely pursue? The state of the nation, the weather? Your latest property acquisition?’

‘Paige,’ he insisted quietly. ‘Her wishes, and what we intend to do about them.’

Dear lord, he didn’t pull any punches—just aimed straight for the jugular. ‘There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do to please her,’ she assured him without hesitation.

‘Without exception?’

She didn’t need to think. ‘Of course.’

Dimitri regarded her in silence for several long seconds, his gaze infinitely speculative beneath faintly hooded lids. ‘Even assuming the pretence of a romantic alliance with me?’