Читать книгу The Helen Bianchin Collection - HELEN BIANCHIN, Helen Bianchin - Страница 14

ELISE revelled in her independence, and chose to take the Mercedes out each day.

On one occasion she visited the ward where she had worked at the Royal Children’s Hospital, after which she drove by the old brick house she had shared for years with her father.

It looked different, she reflected with a tinge of sadness. The small front garden no longer existed, the curtains had been changed, and the door was now painted a brilliant green.

Was it only nine months since her world had been turned upside-down? In some ways it seemed much longer than that.

It was impossible not to ponder what her future might hold, and that of her unborn child. She wanted…What did she want? Alejandro’s love? Was it such an impossible dream?

The blast of a car horn interrupted her thoughts, and she set the Mercedes moving away from a street that no longer held a place in her life.

Lunch, she decided, feeling suddenly hungry, after which she would head towards Double Bay to browse among the many boutiques. She might even visit a beauty salon and indulge in a facial. Then she could look for a suitable gown to wear to an important end-of-year function to be held the following evening in an inner-city hotel.

After an extensive search she discovered exactly what she wanted, added matching evening shoes and bag, and tried not to blench as she signed the credit slip.

Alejandro’s appreciation of her choice was plainly evident as she bore his appraisal mere minutes before they were due to leave the house the next evening.

‘I won’t be able to let you out of my sight,’ he drawled, and she proffered a teasing smile.

‘Likewise.’

‘Indeed?’

His eyes held latent passion, and something she dared not define. A tiny flame flared deep within and flowed through her body. ‘Shall we leave?’

‘So many beautiful women,’ Elise murmured as they entered the hotel ballroom some thirty minutes later. ‘Wearing a fortune in clothes and jewellery in a personal quest to outshine one another.’

Alejandro cast her an amused glance as one of several hostesses hurried forward to check their tickets and indicate their table position.

‘Careful, querida,’ he drawled. ‘Your claws are showing.’

She offered him a winsome smile. ‘It’s one thing to show them, and quite another to use them.’ Unlike Savannah, who didn’t hesitate to do both, she added silently as she paused at Alejandro’s side while he exchanged pleasantries with an acquaintance.

The ballroom had the capacity to seat eight hundred patrons, with ten guests assigned to each circular table. An impressive annual event, it was a draw for the city’s social élite who came primarily to be seen. The promoted charity, the reason for such a gathering, was Incidental.

Perhaps that was being a little unkind, Elise decided as she took her seat a short while later. Committee members affiliated to any charity organisation worked tirelessly to put something like this evening’s soiree together, and deserved an accolade for their efforts.

Two seats at their table remained empty, and Elise’s fingers tightened on the stem of her glass as she overheard who was due to join them.

‘Savannah is always late, darling. She likes to make a grand entrance.’

Savannah’s presence tonight was a foregone conclusion, but only someone with a twisted sense of humour would have placed the glamorous model at the same table as Alejandro and Elise Santanas. It was too contrived to be coincidental, and Elise could only conclude that Savannah herself had engineered the seating arrangements.

The lights dimmed, a spotlight hit the podium, and the charity’s president extolled the amount raised and its purpose. Tonight’s guest speaker was a well-known dignitary who would begin his speech at the dinner’s conclusion, after which music would be provided for guests to dance.

The spotlight faded, the lights returned, and there was Savannah, looking absolutely stunning in jade silk that clung lovingly to every curve. The man at her side wasn’t someone Elise had previously met, and she pinned a smile firmly in place as Savannah performed an introduction.

Was it her imagination that their table was the cynosure of all eyes? Perhaps not, she conceded, although there could be no doubt Savannah’s presence would be viewed with interest.

‘Elise. How are you? Quite recovered from your accident, I hope?’ The slightly bored tone was offset by a seemingly sincere smile which did not reach her eyes as Elise made a polite rejoinder. ‘Alejandro missed you dreadfully at last week’s dinner.’ The smile deepened and became deliberately secretive as she switched attention. ‘Didn’t you, darling? Quite the devoted husband. If he hadn’t been a featured guest speaker, I doubt if he would have come.’

Elise was saved from having to respond by the arrival of a waiter bearing a basket of bread rolls, and when the first course was served she dutifully spooned the delectable potato and leek soup until it was finished.

Faced with a choice of fish or chicken, she opted for the former, and forked each mouthful with studied care. Every so often she paused to sip iced water from her glass, acutely conscious of Savannah’s presence directly opposite.

Incredibly beautiful: there was no visible flaw in any one of her perfect features. Nature had bestowed with a bountiful hand, while good fortune had ensured that she’d been born into wealth. A modelling opportunity had landed in her lap at a tender age, and the rest, as they said, was history.

Elise had viewed her with extreme caution the moment they had first met, and nothing had occurred in the interim to change her mind. The model was an ensnarer of men, making it very plain that Alejandro Santanas was her prime target. His marriage was dismissed as of little account, merely a mild irritation soon to be dispensed with.

‘Some wine, my dear?’

Elise turned towards the man seated on her left, and shook her head. ‘It’s kind of you to offer, but no.’

‘You’re getting by with water, darling?’ Savannah queried, effecting a faint moue. ‘Are you driving?’

Alejandro shifted slightly in his chair and caught hold of Elise’s hand, lifting it to his lips. His eyes gleamed with warmth as he gently kissed each fingertip in turn before enfolding her hand in his.

She wanted to wrench her hand free, but even as the thought occurred, his own hand tightened measurably in silent warning, and she had no recourse but to smile. Damn him, he was little more than an elegant savage behind that sophisticated façade. Ruthless, she added, suppressing a slight shiver as she caught sight of Savannah’s fixed stare.

‘You’re not pregnant, are you, darling?’

Only Savannah would ask such a question, and Elise held her breath as Alejandro met the model’s seemingly innocent gaze.

‘Yes, much to my delight.’ There was no doubt about the element of steel beneath the silksmoothness of his voice.

The arrival of dessert was an anticlimax, and Elise picked segments of fruit from their meringue nest, then pushed the plate to one side, choosing tea as the guest speaker took the podium.

Afterwards a DJ provided background music and encouraged guests to step on to the dance-floor. Savannah and her partner were among the first, moving through the steps with effortless ease.

She looked so—sophisticated, and so very sure of herself. Her features were faintly sultry, and Elise had no doubt that the model knew precisely the effect she was having on her partner.

The question was whether it was having the desired effect on Alejandro.

Elise cast him a surreptitious glance, and was disconcerted to meet his hooded gaze. She offered a tentative smile, afraid he might have deduced the pattern of her thoughts, and she blinked as he reached out and threaded his fingers through her own.

‘Would you like to dance?’

Part of her wanted to quite desperately, for she badly needed the sanctuary of his embrace. The other part recognised the danger of having her body pressed against the hard powerful impact of his own.

With a word of assent she rose to her feet, moved out on to the floor and into his arms.

The music was slow, and her steps matched his in perfect unison. Magic, she mused. Was it possible for one human being to be addicted to another? Held in thrall as if the essence of him were some powerful narcotic?

He diminished every other man in the room, possessing an inherent ruthlessness, honed by experience and enhanced by the degree of his success.

It held a fascination that men recognised and women viewed with the speculative interest of their sex. To some it was an invisible magnet, activated by the excitement of discovering if the man, freed from corporate restraint, was as skilled at lovemaking as he was at adding millions to his investment portfolio.

An immensely sophisticated man, yet there was the hint of an untamed quality, a primitive savagery held rigidly in control.

A faint shiver feathered down her spine with the knowledge that he would be devastatingly heartless as an enemy.

‘Cold?’

His voice was a soft caress against her hair, and she murmured a faint negative.

‘Someone just walked over my grave,’ she offered, with a droll attempt at humour.

‘Savannah?’

She missed a step, and gave an inaudible gasp as he enfolded her close against him. It was a far from conventional hold, and she tilted her head to meet the dark inscrutability apparent in his gaze.

‘You’re too astute for your own good,’ she offered in a strangled voice.

‘Is that a disadvantage?’

She chose not to answer, and when the music changed she moved back a pace and suggested they return to their table.

‘I need to use the powder-room,’ she murmured, aware of the effect of several glasses of water. She caught up her evening bag with the intention of doing a few running repairs to her make-up while there.

‘Do you want me to escort you?’

She directed at him a slow smile of amusement. ‘I’m not a child, Alejandro. What can happen to me?’

What, indeed? she could only query silently several minutes later, when she emerged from a stall to find Savannah examining her make-up in front of the long mirrored wall.

‘Playing to win, darling?’ Savannah queried softly.

‘Every time, Savannah,’ she managed evenly as she took out lipstick and ran colour smoothly over her lips.

‘You’re very…small,’ Savannah opined with a total lack of graciousness. ‘A petite size eight?’

There had to be a purpose to this conversation, and determining her dress size was totally irrelevant, Elise reflected as she recapped the lipstick and turned to face her aggressor.

‘Alejandro is so…’ Savannah trailed off delicately.

‘Well-endowed?’ Elise suggested, deliberately manufacturing a stunningly amused smile. ‘A distinct advantage, wouldn’t you agree?’

Dark brown eyes glittered with dangerous venom as the model released a tinkle of soft laughter. ‘He’s a lusty animal, darling.’ Her gaze focused on Elise’s trim waist. ‘Pregnancy is hardly flattering, especially in the latter stage. I can’t imagine he’ll practise celibacy, no matter how temporary.’

‘And you’ll be there for him to turn to?’

‘Of course, darling.’ She paused, then sharpened the verbal barb for maximum impact. ‘As I have been, and always will be.’

Elise felt sickened, and it took considerable effort to summon a light smile. ‘I really must go back to the table.’ She turned away, only to give an anguished gasp as Savannah caught hold of her injured hand.

‘Don’t underestimate me.’

‘I never have,’ Elise assured steadfastly. ‘Will you please let go of my hand? It’s still quite painful.’

Savannah’s grip momentarily tightened, and her eyes gleamed with a malevolence that changed her features into a hard mask.

For a few shocking seconds Elise thought she wouldn’t be able to cope with the pain, then Savannah flung her hand aside with a pitiless laugh.

‘I’d hate to hurt you unnecessarily.’ Collecting her evening bag, she swept out of the powder-room.

For several minutes Elise was locked into immobility as she tried to control her shaken emotions. Her hand throbbed, aching with an intensity that clouded her eyes and took the colour from her face.

‘Are you all right?’

The light feminine voice held concern, and Elise dredged up a faint smile.

‘You’re very pale. Perhaps you should sit down for a few minutes? Shall I fetch your husband?’

‘No. No,’ she reiterated quickly. ‘I’ll be all right in a few minutes.’

‘My table is next to yours. We’ll walk back together, shall we?’

Elise was supremely conscious of Alejandro’s intent gaze as she resumed her seat. To her relief there was no sign of Savannah or her partner.

‘Would you like more tea?’

She doubted if she would be able to drink it. ‘I’ve had enough, thanks.’ In more ways than one, she added silently.

‘Do you want to go home?’ His voice was quiet, and there was no escaping his penetrating appraisal.

‘Not yet,’ she managed with commendable calm. To leave now would amount to an admission of defeat, and she was damned if she would give Savannah the satisfaction.

Most of the guests were drifting from one table to another, and Elise gave an inward sigh of relief when another couple joined them. The man, a business associate of Alejandro’s, launched into an in-depth discussion with him, while the woman engaged Elise in innocuous conversation.

It was twenty minutes before they left, and Elise cast Alejandro a startled glance as he leaned an arm across the back of her chair.

‘It’s almost eleven. We’ve done our duty. Shall we leave?’

‘If you want to.’

Without a further word he made their excuses, then began leading the way from the ballroom. Several acquaintances sought his attention and, although he paused momentarily to offer a few words in polite response, he didn’t linger.

It was a relief to reach the car, and once inside Elise simply leaned back against the leather-cushioned seat as Alejandro eased the Bentley up to street level and into the steady stream of traffic vacating the city.

Her hand still throbbed, although with less intensity, and the pain had subsided to a deep nagging ache. Bearable, she conceded, but only just.

Music emitted from the stereo speakers, and she closed her eyes as the car sped smoothly towards Point Piper.

Once indoors she made straight for the stairs, discarding her clothes as she entered the bedroom. When Alejandro appeared, only a bra and briefs shielded her from total nudity.

‘Want to tell me what upset you?’

Her eyes held a hint of defiance. ‘Not really.’

‘Savannah followed you into the powder-room, and emerged minutes ahead of you.’

‘How observant of you to notice.’

He crossed to stand within touching distance. ‘I notice everything about you,’ he drawled, sliding a hand beneath her hair to cup her nape. ‘The way you respond when we make love. What makes you smile. How your eyes cloud with pain,’ he said quietly.

‘Savannah and I exchanged a few words.’ She attempted a shrug, and met his gaze unflinchingly. ‘Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?’

His eyes darkened fractionally. ‘None at all.’ His hand slid forward, and his thumb caressed the soft outline of her mouth.

His touch was an erotic force, and she fought an inner battle not to succumb to his subtle brand of foreplay as he reached to unclasp her bra, freeing her breasts from the scrap of silk and lace.

The burgeoning peaks ached for his touch, and a faint moan escaped her throat as he stroked the creamy fullness before paying attention to each dusky peak.

His hands slid down her ribcage, over her waist to slip beneath her briefs, carrying them down over her hips with effortless ease before transferring his attention as he removed his own clothes.

Then he reached for her, both hands framing her face as he lowered his head.

His mouth was an erotic instrument, and she welcomed his kiss without reserve, exulting in the liquid warmth coursing through her veins. Her whole body seemed alive with acute sensation, and she moved close against him, needing the physical contact. Most of all she wanted to be swept away by primitive desire, to become so lost in the rapture of his lovemaking that Savannah and her hateful words would be pushed beyond the periphery of rational thought.

It was almost as if he knew, and a low groan of delighted anticipation emerged from her throat as he drew her down on to the bed and began conducting a leisurely tasting of every sensual pleasure-spot.

She exulted in the degree of eroticism he skilfully bestowed, the depth of emotion she experienced beneath his touch, so that when he finally took her it was all she could do not to cry out with joy.

Afterwards she lay curled into the curve of his body, delightfully sated and on the verge of sleep.

Elise woke later to find that Alejandro had already left for the city, and she indulged in a leisurely stretch before sliding from the bed. So far she had been very fortunate, for, although she occasionally experienced a slight queasiness on waking, it had not developed into morning sickness.

After a refreshing shower she dressed in shorts and a top, then ran lightly downstairs to the kitchen.

‘Morning, Ana. Isn’t it a beautiful day?’

‘Sí,’ the older woman answered with a warm smile. ‘I will get your breakfast.’

‘I’ll do it.’ Cereal, fruit and toast, with orange juice and tea, were simple enough to assemble. Besides, she’d looked after herself for years, and valued a degree of independence.

Elise enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, browsing through the morning papers, then when she had finished she moved outside for a walk round the gardens.

The flowers were beautiful, grown in colour co-ordinated borders that were a visual delight: delicate pinks and whites, brilliant reds and yellows, then carefully clipped shrubs. There were a number of urns gracing the steps leading down from the terrace, and a splendid concrete tiered bird-bath was the central feature of a square expanse of manicured lawn.

Beyond that lay the swimming-pool with an adjacent cabana which housed a bar and changingrooms.

It was a magnificent property, the architecture and landscaping in perfect harmony. Its location and beautiful views out over the harbour indicated a value she was hesitant to calculate.

Was it any wonder that Savannah coveted the man who owned it? His position in the city’s social scene was unquestionable, and there were few women who were not fascinated by rich and powerful men. Some even sold themselves in a quest for fame and fortune.

As she had. Although not for fame or fortune. Her father…Dammit, such introspection was dangerous. It led nowhere, and achieved nothing except to highlight her own insecurities.

Love was a mixture of heaven and hell. Especially when you were not loved in return. The physicalities of lovemaking were there, but not the emotional commitment.

Would it ever be any different? Could it be? Sadly, she didn’t think so.

Elise wandered down to the swimming-pool and sat in one of the chairs positioned beneath a wide sun-umbrella. The sun felt warm against her bare skin, and she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

‘Elise? It is ten-fifteen.’

She came sharply awake at the sound of Ana’s voice, amazed that she could have lapsed into a light doze.

Her hand had swollen slightly and was beginning to show signs of bruising. There was also a degree of pain when the physiotherapist supervised her exercises, a fact which he noted, adding an admonition to be more careful. There didn’t seem much point in assuring him that it was not self-inflicted.

At home she ate the chicken salad Ana had prepared for lunch, then she changed into a bikini, selected a book, and wandered out to sit beneath a shade-umbrella by the pool.

It was almost six when Alejandro arrived home, and Elise cast him a warm smile as he entered the lounge.

‘How was your day?’ she asked lightly, and was unprepared for his brief hard kiss.

‘A series of meetings, appointments.’ His tone was dry, his eyes dark and inscrutable. ‘I’ll change. Then we’ll have a drink before dinner.’

‘I’ll go and check with Ana.’

The table was already set, and there was a delicious aroma emanating from the kitchen.

‘Vegetable soup,’ Ana informed her as she stirred the contents of a saucepan. ‘Paella, with fresh fruit to finish.’

‘Sounds wonderful. Can I help with anything?’

‘It is all under control,’ the older woman beamed companionably. ‘I will serve in fifteen minutes.’

Elise wandered towards the lounge, and was busy watching the televised news when Alejandro entered the room.

He looked vaguely satanic in casual dark trousers and a polo shirt which highlighted the olive tint of his skin and emphasised his length and breadth. ‘A cool drink?’

She glanced towards him and her breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed the hard demeanour just beneath the surface of his control. ‘Please,’ she managed evenly, returning her attention to the television.

She turned as he reached her side, and instead of handing her a glass he placed both down on a nearby pedestal.

‘Let me see your hand.’

He knew. How? The physiotherapist? There was no one else who could have told him, she reasoned silently.

‘It’s a bit stiff,’ she admitted with a helpless shrug, unwilling to extend it for his inspection.

‘Some bruising, pain and reduced mobility,’ Alejandro stated with dangerous softness, ‘consistent with the hand being compressed.’ He reached forward and carefully caught hold of her arm. His intent examination filled her with a peculiar sense of dread, and she almost died at the savagery apparent as he seared her features. ‘Savannah?’

She swallowed nervously. ‘What if I accidentally knocked my hand?’

His expression became inscrutable, and his voice contained dangerous indolence. ‘Did you?’

Evasion of the truth was hardly wise, for there was already visible evidence of bruising. ‘No.’

He said something vicious beneath his breath in Spanish, then lifted a hand to cup her jaw. His finger traced a gentle pattern over her lower lip, probing slightly before moving to caress her cheek. His eyes became dark, their depths unfathomable as he searched her features.

‘My relationship with Savannah was…’ He paused fractionally, then said deliberately, ‘Mutually convenient.’

Mutual need, Elise qualified, sickened at the picture that conjured up.

‘Marriage was not something I had considered until you stormed into my office in a state of fury and began hurling accusations and making allegations.’ His smile held wry cynicism. ‘Over dinner that same evening I decided I wanted your loyalty, your fierce pride, your honesty.’

He had deliberately tested her, and it rankled unbearably.

He brushed her mouth lightly with his own. ‘Eventually—your love,’ he added quietly.

He had placed the chess-pieces on a board, and played the game with infinite patience and skill. She hurt too much to let him know that he had won.

‘Along with good health, love is something that money can’t buy,’ Elise declared carefully, and glimpsed a flicker of pain in the depths of his eyes, so fleeting that she wondered if she had imagined it.

‘The time between being informed of your accident and discovering the extent of your injuries were the worst minutes I have ever spent,’ he assured her ruminatively as he took possession of her mouth in a kiss so incredibly gentle that she simply closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensual eroticism of his touch.

It seemed an age before he broke contact and slowly lifted his head.

It took enormous will-power to step away from him, and her voice was not quite steady as she offered, ‘Ana will be ready to serve dinner.’

‘Then let us go in and eat.’