The Helen Bianchin Collection

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HELEN BIANCHIN

Год написания книги

2018

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It was too late to slam the door. One glance at Nicos’s expression was enough to realise he wouldn’t allow something as simple as a locked door stand in his way. He’d bribed the hotel staff to organise a waiter to deliver tea. To have a porter, or even the hotel manager, request entry for one valid reason or another wouldn’t present much of a problem.

The waiter, undoubtedly au fait with almost any situation, didn’t so much as blink as he entered the suite and placed the tray on a table before retreating with decorous speed.

Katrina waited until the door closed behind him before turning towards Nicos.

‘What in hell do you think you’re doing here?’

Her face was scrubbed free of make-up, her hair a mass of curls tumbling to her shoulders, and her eyes were sparking green fury.

The complimentary towelling robe was too big, too long, and looked incongruous on her slender, petite frame.

Given another occasion, he might have been amused. Now, he was treading a fine line between anger and rage.

He advanced into the room, and stood regarding her with ruthless appraisal. ‘I might ask you the same question.’

His voice was quiet, controlled, and much too dangerous for her peace of mind.

‘I wanted a night alone,’ Katrina qualified.

‘Let’s take this home, shall we?’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Nicos didn’t move, but she felt his presence had suddenly become an ominous threat.

‘We can do this in a civilised manner. Or I can carry you kicking and screaming down to the car.’

Her hands closed into fists. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘Try me.’

‘I’ll call hotel security.’

He indicated the phone resting on the bedside pedestal. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Nicos—’

‘Five minutes, Katrina. Change into your clothes or remain as you are. The choice is yours.’

‘No.’

‘It’s not open to negotiation.’

She swore, and saw one eyebrow lift as speculative amusement temporarily overrode anger.

‘Four and a half minutes…and counting,’ he relayed coolly.

He could count as much as he wanted, but she had no intention of moving an inch.

They faced each other, like two opposing warriors bent on conquest. Who would win was a foregone conclusion. He had the height and the strength to overcome her with minimum effort.

Which he did, when the time was up. Gathering up her laptop and bag, he collected her business suit, shoes, and flimsy underwear in one hand, then he hauled her over one shoulder as if she weighed little more than a child.

It didn’t prevent her from balling her fists against his back, nor attempting to kick any part of his anatomy where she could connect.

‘You fiend! Put me down!’

He turned towards the door, and she hit him again for good measure. ‘If you dare to walk out of here like this, I’ll kill you,’ Katrina vented furiously.

‘You had your chance to leave with dignity.’

Dear heaven. ‘Nicos—’

Except it was too late.

Please God, don’t let anyone be in the corridor, or the lift.

The corridor was empty, but the lift was not.

‘Oh, my,’ a feminine voice said quietly, while the man at her side spared a faint chuckle.

‘He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing,’ Katrina accused vehemently, landing a hard fist against Nicos’s ribs for good measure.

Was there no end to her humiliation?

‘Some wolf. Some fantasy.’

Did she detect envy in the woman’s tone?

The lift slid to a gentle halt, and Katrina was carried unceremoniously to where Nicos had parked the Mercedes.

‘I have my own car.’

‘You imagine I’ll let you drive it?’ He released the alarm and opened the passenger door. ‘I’ll arrange to have it picked up in the morning.’

‘I’ll need it to go to work.’

He tossed her clothes onto the back seat along with her bag, then placed the laptop on the floor before sliding her down onto the cushioned leather.

‘So, I’ll drive you.’ He released the seat belt and leaned over her to clip it in place. Then he closed the door and crossed round to slip in behind the wheel.

‘You’re the most arrogant, impossible man I’ve ever met!’

He fired the engine, then speared her a dark glance. ‘Save the name-calling until we get home and I can deal with it.’

Katrina retreated into silence, and didn’t offer a word when Nicos drew the car to a halt in the garage.

With considerable dignity she exited the front seat, collected her gear, and strode into the house ahead of him.