The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) (19 page)

There was only the man, the electrifying primeval emotion, and need.

The control he inevitably maintained was gone, and in its place was something incredibly primitive. A hunger so intense it surpassed passion and became raw desire. Brazen, mesmeric, libidinous.

It was as if she was possessed, held captive by a driven overwhelming need, and she abandoned herself to it, to him, allowing him to take her wherever he chose to lead, exulting in the journey.

She had wondered what it would be like to have him lose all semblance of constraint, to be caught up in his total abandonment. A tiny smile curved the swollen fullness of her mouth.
Wild
, she reflected silently. Incredibly, inexplicably wild.

There was a sense of bewitching satisfaction at having the power to cause a man to lose control so completely in her arms.

Hannah sensed the moment he regained a measure of control, felt the heave of his chest as he dragged in air and steadied his breathing, heard it catch in his throat as his body shuddered in emotive reaction, and
she simply held him as he uttered a stream of self-castigating words in whispered Spanish.

She wanted to reassure him, to somehow convey for the first time she truly felt a woman's sensual power, and that she was completely swept away by it.

With a tentative touch, she stroked her fingers lightly over his back, felt the tautened muscles and tense sinew beneath her tactile caress, and attempted to soothe them. Gently she traversed his waist, and traced the rigid outline of his buttocks, squeezing them slightly before trailing slowly up over his ribcage to rest on his shoulders, then capturing his head and bringing his mouth down to hers.

It was she who kissed him, savouring his lips, his mouth, sweeping her tongue in an evocative dance with his, encouraging, beguiling in a brazen invitation.

Afterwards he held her close, his arms a protective cage as he cradled her, and she felt his lips on her hair, at the edge of her cheek, caressing her temple, then nuzzling the soft hollow at the curve of her neck.

‘Madre de Dios,'
Miguel breathed tautly. ‘Did I hurt you?'

Hannah pressed her mouth to his throat. ‘No.'

It had been passion at its most elemental, for both of them.

His lips found hers, in a kiss that was so incredibly gentle it almost brought her to tears.

‘Rest,
amada
,' he bade gently.

She felt the beat of his heart beneath her cheek,
and in the security of his arms she simply closed her eyes and drifted into a dreamless somnolence.

At some stage during the early pre-dawn hours she stirred, felt the lack of human warmth and reached for him, only to find the bed empty. Cautiously she lifted her head and searched the shadowy room. It was then she saw him, silhouetted against the partly drawn curtains, looking out over the shadowed garden.

Slowly she slid from the bed and crossed to stand behind him, aware from his slight movement that he had heard the rustle of the sheets, the almost silent pad of her feet.

Hannah linked her arms around his waist and leaned in against him, holding him close. Long minutes later he gathered her into his arms and carried her into the
en suite
. There, he filled the spa-bath, switched on the jets, then he stepped in and lowered her down in front of him.

She simply closed her eyes and let the pulsing warm water provide a soothing relaxation. It would be so easy just to drift to sleep, and she almost did, only to open her eyes wide when Miguel scooped her out and wrapped her in a huge bath-towel.

Dry, they returned to the bedroom, and she made no protest when he drew her down onto the bed. With exquisite care he began an erotic tasting that took her to the edge of sensual nirvana, then tipped her over.

Would it always be like this? Hannah wondered on the edge of sleep.

Beautiful, glorious, heart-wrenching sex. Affection, fondness, respect. But not love.

She, who had sworn never to become emotionally involved with another man, had no choice.

Her heart belonged to Miguel. It always had, always would, whether he wanted it or not.

‘W
ONDERFUL
,' Elise murmured as she relaxed beneath the canopied section of the comfortable cruiser Miguel had hired for the day.

Hannah adjusted her sunglasses and smiled as Elise pulled the brim of her hat down to shade her face from the sun's strong rays.

Together they'd driven down to Williamstown at ten this morning, where Miguel had organised to hire a luxury cruiser and captain to cruise the sparkling waters, then return mid-afternoon.

‘It's nice to get away somewhere quiet,' Elise said appreciatively. ‘No phones, no visitors, no one-hundred-and-one things to do.'

And no way a certain very persistent Frenchwoman could intrude, Hannah added silently, unable to prevent herself from wondering what Camille's next move might be.

Miguel and Alejandro were seated at the stern, both casually attired in pale chinos and a polo shirt. Both wore sunglasses and baseball caps, and resembled, Hannah decided, two businessmen relaxing on a rare day off.

All she had to do was
look
at Miguel to feel her insides begin to melt. Traitorous desire flared, and
spread stealthily through her body, heating her blood and sensitising every nerve-end into pulsing life.

It was impossible not to relive the cataclysmic passion they'd shared less than twelve hours before, and, as crazy as it seemed, she was willing to swear she could still
feel
him inside her. Sensitive tissues throbbed a little from his possession, and there was a part of her that ached for his touch.

At that moment he turned and cast her a long measured glance, and for an instant she could almost imagine he'd read her mind. Then his mouth curved into a slow, infinitely sensual smile that tore her composure to shreds.

‘Lunch,' Elise stated with evident relish, ‘might be a good idea.'

‘Junior is hungry?' Hannah queried musingly, and found herself laughing at Elise's expression.

‘Little missy has very definite ideas on when and what I should eat.' She stood to her feet and smoothed her hands over her barely perceptible bulge. ‘Today, I have a craving for ham, mayonnaise, gherkins and pineapple.'

Fortunately Sofia had packed a wide selection into a picnic hamper, together with crunchy bread rolls, salmon, chicken, and a variety of salads.

Hannah went inside the cabin and retrieved the hamper, then with Elise's help she set it out on the table, added bottled water, soft drinks and wine, and called the men to eat.

The fresh air, the faint breeze, made for a very pleasant few hours, and they disembarked and then
took the coastal road down to the Port Phillip before returning to Toorak.

A seafood barbecue as the heat of the afternoon sun began to wane completed a relaxing day in good company, and Hannah stacked plates and dishes onto a tray and carried them indoors.

Elise followed her, and together they rinsed and stacked them into the dishwasher in record time.

Hannah wiped down the bench, then paused as Elise touched her arm.

‘May I say something?'

‘Of course.' Hannah turned and gave Elise her full attention.

‘Alejandro had a woman chase him when I was pregnant with our first son. Savannah made a complete nuisance of herself and caused me immeasurable grief at the time.' She smiled a little at the memory. ‘Unless I'm reading things wrong, you have a similar nemesis in Camille.' She drew in a deep breath, then released it slowly. ‘One thing I learned that might help. The Santanas men are one-woman men.'

‘So don't worry about Camille?' Hannah queried wryly.

‘Don't worry about Miguel,' Elise corrected gently. Her features momentarily clouded. ‘Here we go again,' she groaned, rolling her eyes an instant before she quickly exited the kitchen.

Miguel and Alejandro entered the house as Elise returned from her mercy dash, and Hannah set the coffee filtering as she extracted cups, sugar and milk.

‘Tea for me,' Elise requested, and Hannah extracted a tray.

‘Why don't you go sit by the pool and I'll bring it out in a few minutes?'

It was pleasant to relax in the quiet evening air and watch the sun go down. The garden lights sprung to life by automatic control, and recessed lighting around the pool area added a luminous glow that was highlighted by underwater pool lighting.

A private fairyland, secluded, peaceful, and a relaxing way to end a lovely day.

Elise voiced the words, and Hannah had to agree.

‘Time to go,
querida
,' Alejandro commanded quietly as he stood to his feet. ‘You're tired.'

‘I am?' Her eyes assumed a musing gleam. ‘If you say so.'

How many years had they been married? Hannah posed. Six, seven? Yet the intense passion was there, burning just beneath the surface. Somehow she could imagine it would always be so. Yet it hadn't been in the beginning, she reflected as she stood with Miguel at the front door and watched the tail-lights of their hire car glow in the darkness. An arranged marriage that had gone wrong, with Elise escaping only to find herself involved in a car crash and suffering memory loss.

‘More coffee?' Hannah queried as she turned away from the door.

‘No,' Miguel refused as he locked up and set the security alarm. ‘I need to pack. Alejandro is picking me up at seven-thirty
en route
to the airport.'

Where the Sanmar company Lear jet would fly them across the vast Australian continent to Perth.

Without a word she crossed the foyer with him and ascended the stairs to their room where she watched in silence as Miguel extracted a leather holdall and rapidly tossed in a few shirts, a pair of trousers, together with other essentials.

The thought of him being absent for a few days didn't thrill her at all, and she gathered up a silky nightshirt, then entered the
en suite
to shower.

Miguel joined her there minutes later, and she felt acutely vulnerable as he took the soap from her hand, using it gently over every inch of her body before extending it to her to return the favour.

For a second she hesitated, and the breath caught in her throat as he cupped her face and slanted his mouth down to cover her own in a kiss that was so tender it was all she could do not to cry.

It was a while before they both emerged, and towelled dry, re-entered the bedroom and slipped beneath the covers.

He reached for her, and she went to him willingly, curving her arms round his neck as she pulled his head down to hers.

Miguel indulged her, allowing her to take the initiative, until he stilled her hands and held them.

‘
Amante
, no. As much as I want you, last night—'

‘Was wonderful,' Hannah assured. ‘Earth-shattering.'

‘I don't think—'

‘Don't,' she pleaded. ‘Think, I mean,' she added
quickly. ‘Just feel.
Please.
' She extricated her hands and ran light fingers down his chest, traced a pattern over his navel, then moved low. ‘I want to make love with you.'

And she did, with exquisite care, rising above him as she took in his length, feeling acute pleasure, enclosing him tightly she began to move.

Yet it was Miguel who took control and measured the pace, making it a slow erotic dance that shattered them both with its intensity. Then he brought her down to him and held her long after her breathing returned to normal and she slept.

 

Saying goodbye was harder than it had ever been before, and she wanted to say
don't go
. Except the words never found voice, and she managed the semblance of a warm smile as he kissed her briefly before moving quickly out to the car and slipped into the front seat beside Alejandro.

Fortunately there wasn't much time to reflect on Miguel's departure as she returned to the dining room to finish the last of her breakfast and skim the daily newspaper before ascending the stairs to get ready for work.

The replacement salesgirl sent by the agency proved to be a dramatic improvement on Chantal, and Hannah began to relax as the morning progressed.

Renee rang to check how the new girl was shaping up, and Miguel called to say they'd landed in Perth.

When the phone rang again minutes later Hannah
automatically lifted the receiver and intoned her usual greeting.

‘
Bonjour
, Hannah.'

The voice on the other end of the phone was familiar. Far too familiar, and not one she wanted to hear.

‘How did you get my number?' A silly question, she silently castigated herself the instant the words slipped from her lips.

‘Dearest Hannah,' Luc drawled with cynical humour. ‘Your boutique has a name, which is listed in the telephone directory.'

The connection to Camille was obvious. ‘What do you want?'

‘Ah,
chérie
,' he chastised softly. ‘Straight to the point.'

‘I don't have time to chat.' Her voice was distant, formal.

‘Meet me for coffee.'

‘I don't think so.'

‘You have to break for lunch, surely?'

‘Yes, but I don't intend to have it with you.'

‘Afraid,
chérie
?'

Had he always been this insufferably arrogant? She almost cringed at the thought she'd once been attracted to him. ‘Of you? No.' She replaced the receiver, and turned towards the sheaf of invoices waiting to claim her attention.

A client entered the boutique, and Hannah watched surreptitiously as Elaine moved forward with a practised greeting. In only a matter of hours the girl was
showing her worth, and Hannah felt cautiously hopeful she'd work out.

Elaine took a lunch break at midday, and on her return an hour later Hannah crossed the street to the café she usually frequented. The food was good, the coffee superb.

Big mistake, she realised within seconds of entering the busy eatery. Being a creature of habit had its downfall, for anyone familiar with her regular routine would be aware this particular café was her favourite haunt for lunch…whether she chose food to take away, or took the time to eat in.

Seated at a table overlooking the street was Luc Dubois, looking the relaxed urbane sophisticate he aspired to be.

Now why wasn't she surprised to see him there? Luc did nothing without motivation. It made her feel distinctly wary.

‘Bonjour, chérie,'
Luc greeted with deliberate warmth. ‘I knew if I sat here long enough it would be only a matter of time before you arrived.'

‘I must remember to change my eating venue.' Without a further word she turned on her heel and walked out again.

The entire street held several equally trendy eating places. She'd go somewhere else.

Five minutes later she was seated at a table and had just given her order when someone slid into the seat opposite.

‘Whatever the lady ordered,' Luc instructed the waiter, ‘make it two.'

Hannah cast him an arctic glare. ‘Just what in hell are you trying to pull?'

Luc extended one arm in a sweeping gesture. ‘We're in public,' he indicated with an eloquent shrug. ‘Why not combine lunch with a little reminiscing?'

Hannah arched one eyebrow. ‘To what purpose?'

He tried to look hurt. ‘Why,
chérie
. We shared some good times together.'

She spared him a bitter smile. ‘It took me three months to discover your charm was only an act.'

‘Not all the time.'

‘Oh…p-l-e-a-s-e,' she discounted wearily.

‘The attraction was Daddy's bank account and my healthy annuity.
I
was irrelevant.' Every instinct told her to get up and walk out
now
.

The waiter delivered two lattes, and against her better judgement she tore open a sugar tube and tipped the contents into the milky froth. Luc did the same.

She cut straight to the chase. ‘What has Camille paid you to do?'

He spread both hands in a conciliatory gesture.

‘Why should Camille have anything to do with me wanting to share a coffee with you?'

She speared him with a look. ‘Don't take me for a fool.'

The waiter arrived with two plates, each containing a salad sandwich. As he turned away a flash bulb exploded nearby, and she caught a brief glimpse of a photographer making a rapid exit.

‘Pay dirt,' Luc informed with a cynical smile.

It all clicked into place in an instant, and Hannah rose to her feet in one angry movement, extracted a note from her purse, then flung it down onto the table and walked out into the street.

Dammit, she should have seen it coming! Luc played a tune to the highest bidder. In this instance, Camille. Another step down a diabolical path towards Camille's main goal…Miguel. Now, there was photographic evidence Hannah had shared a meal with Luc. It didn't take a genius to work out how Camille intended to use the photograph.

A car horn blared, and she halted mid-step. Dear God, she whispered shakily as realisation hit that she'd stepped off the footpath onto the road. Get a grip!

Minutes later she entered the boutique, caught Elaine's surprised look, and offered a humourless smile. ‘That bad, huh?'

‘Are you okay?'

Hannah attempted to downplay the past thirty minutes. ‘Something disagreed with me.'

‘Or someone?'

‘You're good,' Hannah accorded wryly. ‘Any problems while I was gone?'

‘I sold two shirts, a scarf, and took two orders.'

‘Well done.'

‘You weren't away long. Did you get to eat?'

‘I lost my appetite.' Wasn't that the truth!

It was after six when she arrived home, and she ate the meal Sofia had prepared for her, then she retreated to the study and keyed in the digits to connect with Miguel's mobile, only to get his voice-mail.

Maybe he and Alejandro were out to dinner. She left a message, then took a shower and changed into jeans and a singlet top.