Читать книгу The Helen Bianchin Collection - HELEN BIANCHIN, Helen Bianchin - Страница 35

KATRINA dressed with care, choosing an elegant, fitted gown in cream ecru. The intricate small crystal and pearl beading made the top a work of art, extending to the hipline, where the beads fell in measured, loose strings to the hem to swing slightly with every move she made.

Tonight she sought a sophisticated image, and she pinned her hair into a sleek French twist, took time with her make-up, and added a diamond tennis bracelet with matching pendant and ear studs. Stiletto heels lent her added height.

She had wined and dined with some of the country’s social élite, and could converse knowledgeably on any number of subjects.

So why should she be nervous about sharing an evening with a few of Nicos’s associates and their wives?

Because what the tabloid press hadn’t revealed, gossip and innuendo would have filled in the blanks…in spades.

The interest would be circumspect, the conversation polite. But without doubt, Nicos and Katrina Kasoulis would be the focus of attention.

‘Ready?’

She turned and spared him a level glance, noting the black evening suit—Armani? Cerruti? He favoured the impeccable tailoring of both designers. His white shirt was of the finest cotton, the silk tie faultless.

However, it was the man wearing the clothes who stirred her senses. The broad facial features, dark piercing eyes, a mouth she had only to look at to remember how it felt on her own.

He possessed a dangerous sensuality that drew women like bees to a honey pot. Inherent charm and an awareness of some indefinable primitiveness beneath a sophisticated façade. Add wealth and power, and the combination was lethal.

She could understand how a woman would fight for him.

As Georgia had?

Could she have gone to such lengths to have his child and wreck a marriage?

Katrina mentally shook her head. A fair fight was one thing. Employing devious underhand means was something else.

‘Have I suddenly acquired a few grey hairs?’

She registered Nicos’s drawled query, and managed a quizzical response. ‘Not to my knowledge.’

‘Then, shall we leave?’

Their hosts resided in Woollahra, a gracious old home set back from the road with a magnificent view.

Cars lined the illuminated driveway, and inside guests mingled in a large formal lounge. Muted music emitted from speakers, providing a pleasant background as Katrina moved at Nicos’s side while their host performed introductions.

Nicos’s hand rested against the small of her back. A proprietorial gesture, or reassurance?

Katrina accepted a flute of champagne and sipped the chilled liquid.

‘I imagine we’re supposed to project solidarity?’ she inclined lightly, and caught the hint of amusement evident in the look he cast her.

‘Advisable, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Just don’t expect me to display adoring affection.’

His mouth curved into a warm smile. ‘I’m disappointed. Adoring affection would make a pleasant change.’

‘I’ll save the animosity for when we’re alone.’

‘For which I’m incredibly grateful.’

‘The animosity, or being alone?’ It was almost fun to indulge in harmless banter.

‘Both.’

‘You enjoy our heated exchanges?’

Nicos lifted a hand and pressed a finger to her mouth. ‘I enjoy watching your emotions at play.’

He was adept at discerning each and every one of them. Right now she was nervous, but determined to adopt a façade that only he could penetrate. It was evident in the slightly rapid beat of her pulse, the quick and almost too-ready smile, the depth of green in those beautiful emerald-green eyes.

His attempt to soothe was spontaneous, a light trail of his fingerpads across her shoulder blades, and he watched her eyes dilate in awareness of his touch.

‘I think we should mingle, don’t you?’ Katrina murmured, and took a deliberate sip of champagne. This was madness. A simple gesture, and she had to control her body’s natural instinct to lean into him. ‘Thea and Rafe Richardson have not long arrived. Perhaps we could join them?’

It was a pleasant evening, the food superb. The table seating arrangements proved interesting, and while the conversation flowed, accompanied by scintillating laughter, Katrina was conscious of receiving circumspect attention…from several women, whose veiled curiosity searched for the slightest crack appearing in Nicos’s or her own projected persona.

If anything, Nicos seemed bent on displaying an element of tendresse, much to her discomfort. It was evident in the touch of his hand on hers, albeit that it was fleeting. Whenever they spoke together, and it seemed it was often, he gave the impression each word held meaningful importance. His attentiveness was exemplary.

‘You’re in serious danger of overkill,’ Katrina relayed in an undertone as he refilled her water glass.

‘Taking care of you?’

She was willing to swear he wasn’t talking about food. It brought forth a vivid memory of just how he’d taken care of her needs…in the bedroom, and out of it…and her frequently explosive reaction. He possessed the touch, the skill, the knowledge, to drive her wild.

By the time dessert was served, she’d had enough. If this was a game, it was only fair she began to play.

Without pause for thought she spooned a small quantity of superb crème caramel and offered it to Nicos. ‘Taste this, darling.’

His gaze locked with hers, dark brown with emerald green, and the firm curve of his mouth parted to accept the morsel.

She refrained from repeating the gesture, and minutes later she laid a hand on his thigh. The sudden tightening of sinew beneath her fingers was encouraging, and she dug her nails in lightly, then slowly trailed her fingertips towards his groin.

‘Payback, Katrina?’

‘Yes.’

‘Don’t overstep the mark.’

‘I wasn’t aware any boundaries were set.’

‘Retribution has a price.’

‘Threat or challenge?’

His eyes darkened. ‘It’s your hand to play.’

A double entendre if ever there was one! Perhaps a retreat was advisable. Temporarily, she conceded, for she wasn’t done yet.

With deliberate intent she turned to the guest next to her and began a conversation, the content of which she retained little memory within minutes of concluding it.

‘I understand you’re flying down to Melbourne tomorrow to examine two sites Kevin had under review,’ said Nicos.

Katrina turned towards him and contained her surprise. Her lawyer knew of her intention, and had presumably seen it as his duty to relay the information to Nicos.

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll accompany you.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s in my interest as joint executor of Kevin’s will and a member of the directorial board to sanction any decision you make regarding the sale of estate assets,’ he evinced smoothly.

‘I intend staying overnight.’ An intention which should interfere with his business schedule.

‘No problem. I imagine you’ve booked the early flight?’

She wanted to gnash her teeth, and barely restrained herself from doing so. He’d very cleverly manoeuvred her into something she could hardly get out of, given that it was a legitimate business trip. But it was the overnight bit that irked, for the invention had worked against her.

Coffee was served in the lounge, and she sank gracefully into a single cushioned chair. Here at least she was safe.

Wrong, she acknowledged minutes later. Nicos came to stand within touching distance, and his close proximity had a measured effect on her breathing. As well as other more intimate parts of her body.

What was wrong with her? They were each enacting a part. As soon as their car cleared the gates, it would herald a return to the status quo. Separate bedrooms, separate lives. Connecting only for the sake of appearances.

So why did she feel as if her body was a finely tuned instrument awaiting the master’s touch? Every nerve was taut, each pleasure pulse acutely sensitised.

If he touched her, she’d go up in flames.

Did he know? Dear heaven, she hoped not! It would be a total humiliation. Hers.

She wanted the evening to end. To be able to go home, slip out of her clothes, remove her make-up, and crawl into bed. Alone.

Liar. You want to be with him. To experience once more what you once shared together. For the good times.

With Nicos, it had been more than sex. It had been intimacy, a physical expression of love between two people in tune with each other on every level.

All her protective instincts warned any attempt to revisit that special place would be akin to committing emotional suicide. And she was a survivor. She had to be.

It was after eleven when Nicos indicated they should leave, and she expressed her gratitude to their hosts, bade fellow guests goodnight, and walked at Nicos’s side to the car.

Minutes later they cleared the gates and soon reached the arterial road leading towards Point Piper.

Street lights provided illumination, and the tree-lined avenues cast looming shadows. Many of the houses were in darkness, but every now and again a lit window revealed activity within.

‘All talked out?’

Katrina turned slightly at the sound of that musing drawl, and could determine nothing from his expression. In the shadowed interior, his features were all angles and planes.

‘In recovery mode after playing charades,’ she declared, and heard his throaty chuckle.

‘That bad, hmm?’

In their hosts’ home there had been security in numbers. Now they were alone, and effects of the game still lingered. Yet she was conscious of an elemental danger, aware that if she didn’t tread very carefully she could unleash a situation she wasn’t ready to deal with…now, or at any stage in the future.

Had Nicos’s affectionate attention been entirely contrived? She told herself she didn’t want to know. Except there was a part of her that reacted to his touch, and it irked unbearably that she hadn’t been in total control of her emotions.

It didn’t take long to traverse the distance between Woollahra and Point Piper, and Katrina slid from the car in one fluid movement, entering the lobby a few steps ahead of her inimitable husband.

The click of her heels on marble tiles sounded loud in the night’s silence, and her steps were quick as she entered the spacious lobby and headed for the elegant staircase.

She was aware of Nicos resetting the alarm system, closing lights, and she fought against the instinctive need to run.

From what? a tiny voice demanded. Yourself?

She deigned not to answer, nor even give the thought any credence as she reached the sanctuary of her room.

Nicos hadn’t attempted to stop her.

So why did she harbour the intuitive feeling he had a strategy and a hidden agenda?

To seduce her?

Why? Except to prove he could?

And he had as much hope of achieving that as a snowflake’s chance in hell, she vowed as she slipped off her heeled pumps and discarded the beaded gown.

Make-up removal came next, then she donned a nightshirt and slid into bed, all too aware that sleep was never more distant.

After an hour of tossing restlessly from one position to another she pulled on a wrap and made her way downstairs to the indoor pool adjacent the gym. There, she cast aside the wrap and dived neatly into the sparkling, crystal-clear water.

Katrina stroked several lengths, then changed style, enjoying the feel of cool water against her skin as she covered length after length.

It was mindless exercise, but one she welcomed in a bid to bring on a state of semi-exhaustion that would enable sleep.

Maybe then Nicos’s image wouldn’t haunt her, or invade her dreams.

Her muscles were beginning to tire, and her breathing was no longer smooth or even. Time to stop, she decided as she reached the tiled edge, then rested there for several long seconds as she caught her breath and smoothed excess water from her hair.

‘Had enough?’

She gasped at the sound of that familiar male drawl, and went under as she’d inadvertently released her hold on the pool’s edge.

Seconds later she rose to the surface, spluttering with indignation. ‘You frightened the life out of me! How did you know I was down here?’

‘Sensor security,’ Nicos informed. ‘A modem beeps beside my bed if lights are activated inside the house after the alarm is set.’

Katrina trod water as she tilted her head to look at him. It seemed a long way up! ‘So you decided to investigate.’ In the reflected pool lighting he resembled a dark angel, and his navy towelling robe made her supremely conscious she wasn’t wearing so much as a stitch.

There were towels stacked in a nearby cupboard, but she’d have to emerge from the pool and walk several steps to reach one.

‘Are you through expending excess energy?’

‘Yes.’ Please, God, he wouldn’t guess why she’d chosen a midnight exercise stint.

He hunkered down and extended a hand. ‘I’ll help you out.’

‘One way to help would be to fetch me a towel,’ she declared dryly.

‘Skinny-dipping?’

Suspicion darkened her eyes. ‘Just how long have you been standing there?’

‘A few minutes.’

She scooped up a handful of water and aimed it at him. ‘You fiend!’

Nicos rose to his feet, loosened the tie on his robe, discarded it, and dived into the pool to emerge close beside her.

‘Now we’re on equal ground.’

Katrina lashed out a hand, and had it caught before it could connect. ‘Let me go.’

His smile held a dangerous quirk that made her instantly wary.

‘Please,’ she added quietly, desperate to put some distance between them. He was too close, too physical, too much.

‘Is it me you don’t trust,’ Nicos mused thoughtfully. ‘Or yourself?’

She swallowed the faint lump that had risen in her throat. ‘I won’t play mouse to your cat.’

‘Is that what you think I’m doing…playing?’

Her gaze was steady. ‘I think you’re deriving a certain amount of amusement from the situation.’

‘And you’d like to escape?’

‘I’d like to get out of the pool,’ Katrina corrected.

‘Then, go, pedhi mou,’ he bade. ‘I won’t stop you.’

She watched as he moved away from her and stroked a leisurely pace towards the end of the pool.

With quick movements she levered her body onto the tiled surround, stood to her feet and quickly pulled on her discarded robe.

She should have felt cold, for the water had been cool, but instead heat flooded her veins and her heartbeat quickened measurably as she extracted a towel and wound it into a turban over her wet hair.

This wasn’t the first time she’d shared the pool, naked, with Nicos. Except then… No, she determined resolutely, don’t think about then.

Without a backward glance she quickly negotiated the two flights of stairs to her bedroom, showered and shampooed her hair before engaging the hair-drier, then she slid into bed.

A faint groan left her lips as she caught sight of the time. In too few hours her alarm would sound and she’d need to rise, change, pack an overnight bag, and leave for the airport.