The Helen Bianchin Collection

There was a latent indolence apparent, a studied watchfulness that was wholly sexual. She could sense his potent chemistry, like a magnetic force field, and something stirred deep within, pulsing through the tracery of veins, triggering nerve-ends until her whole body became caught up in the thrall of physical awareness.

‘A sip of wine?’

‘It will make me sleepy,’ she protested as he extended the patterned flute to her lips. There was something incredibly intimate about placing her mouth to the rim where his had been only seconds before, and she savoured a small quantity of the excellent Chardonnay, letting it slip slowly down her throat, then followed it with several long swallows of iced water.

‘Would that be such a bad thing?’

She sensed the faint humour in his voice and her eyes widened slightly. It would be so easy to reach out and touch him, to place fingers against that hard jaw and explore the vertical crease slashing each cheek. She wanted to, badly.

Almost as much as she wanted to feel his mouth against her own, his hand shaping her breast. A long, slow prelude to a passionate overture. Except that she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the finale.

Such wayward thoughts were infinitely dangerous to her peace of mind. In an effort to shut them out she turned her attention to the horizon, aware of his deft movements as he extracted a fresh peach and began peeling it.

What was he like as a lover? Passionate, primitive, shameless. Dear Lord in heaven, could there be any doubt?

‘Elise?’

She turned at the sound of his voice, and her fingers shook slightly as she took a segment of fruit from his outstretched hand. ‘Thanks.’

It was deliciously cool and juicy, and she followed it with a glass of chilled mineral water.

If she lay back and closed her eyes, maybe it would stem this inner restlessness. She hadn’t taken into account the soft sea breeze, the sun’s warmth, or their midday meal. Together they had a soporific effect, and it took only minutes for her to slip into a light doze.

Elise woke slowly, passing through the threshold of sleep to a state of nebulous consciousness, aware that the slight feeling of lethargy had dissipated. It was difficult to tell whether it could be attributed to the recuperation process or her pregnancy.

Perhaps it was a combination of both, she decided lazily as she let her eyelashes sweep slowly upwards.

Alejandro lay sprawled in a half sitting position within touching distance, his head propped in one hand as he faced her, and she blinked as he lifted a hand and trailed gentle fingers down the edge of her jaw.

‘Pleasant dreams?’

She couldn’t recollect even one. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘Almost an hour,’ he responded, and her eyes widened in disbelief.

‘You should have woken me.’

‘Why?’ he asked, watching the play of emotions across her expressive features. ‘There’s no need to hurry home.’

Elise stared at him, aware of the sheer physicality of his powerful body and his ability to make her feel infinitely fragile. There was a warmth evident in those dark eyes, a latent sensuality that was deeply disturbing.

It was as if she was being drawn to him by some invisible magnet, and she became increasingly confused as her emotions swung like a pendulum between cautious acceptance and denial.

Logic reasoned that a man of his considerable means could easily have hired a nurse-companion for her and continued to devote most of his energies to an extensive business empire. Yet he had not chosen to delegate. Surely such an action was sufficient evidence of his caring? Why this instinctive niggling doubt that persisted despite every effort to rationalise and dispel it?

‘Ready for some exercise?’

Her eyes cleared, and a smile curved her mouth. ‘Yes.’

With easy lithe movements he rose to his feet, extending a hand to help her, then he stowed the hamper in the boot and followed it with the rug and cushions.

They walked in companionable silence, and Elise lifted her face to the sunshine, loving the soft afternoon breeze as it came off the sea, the slight tangy smell of salt refreshingly evident.

There were young children playing close by, three beneath the age of five, and a lovely plump baby sitting on a rug beneath the shade of a wide beachumbrella.

Elise looked at the baby’s bright eyes, the wide smile and happily flailing arms as the young mother deftly exchanged one nappy for another.

Something tugged deep inside her, a wistful longing that came from nowhere, and she made no protest as Alejandro curved an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side.

Unbidden, her own fingers traced a light path across her waist, then paused in an unconsciously protective gesture.

Would their child be a dark-haired imp inheriting his father’s genes, or a flaxen-haired angel who would steal her father’s heart? Without doubt their child would be fortunate enough to lead a privileged existence.

It was late afternoon when they arrived back at Palm Beach, and Elise wandered through the house while Alejandro checked the fax machine and made a few calls.

She found her way into the informal lounge and picked up the remote control unit, flicking from one television channel to another in a bid to discover something worthy of her attention. At this time of the afternoon most of the programmes were designed to educate or amuse children, and she discarded the unit in favour of a magazine.

‘Would you like to eat out? There’s a variety of restaurants within a short driving distance.’

Alejandro’s entry into the room had been soundless, and she glanced up in surprise as he crossed to stand within touching distance.

In public? The idea held definite appeal. ‘Yes.’

His soft laughter held a degree of quizzical warmth, and she swallowed convulsively as he caught hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing each finger in turn before slipping inward to caress the softness of her palm. The sensation sent tiny shock-waves radiating from her feminine core, and she shivered at the lambent warmth evident in those dark eyes so close to her own.

Releasing her, he slid both hands beneath her blouse to free the fastening of her bra. His fingers were warm, his touch deft, unleashing a number of sensations she found difficult to ignore.

It would have been all too easy to lift a hand and pull his head down to hers to initiate a long, sweet kiss. Except that if she did, it wouldn’t stop there.

‘If you continue to look at me like that for much longer,’ Alejandro drawled, pressing a finger to the soft lower fullness of her lip, ‘I’ll take it as an invitation to join you in the shower. Afterwards,’ he promised huskily, ‘where and when we eat won’t be a consideration.’

Colour stained her cheekbones and she turned away from him, forcing herself to walk to their suite with unhurried steps. Once there, she gathered up fresh underwear and entered the bathroom.

The water’s warm spray soothed her fractured nerves, and she stayed longer than necessary, emerging to towel herself dry, then don lace-edged briefs.

Alejandro was in the process of tucking a shirt into his trousers when she entered the bedroom, and she consciously averted her gaze as she crossed to the capacious wardrobe to select something suitable to wear.

Black silk culottes, slim-heeled black sandals, and a long white sleeveless button-through silk top, she decided as she extracted the clothes from their hangers. It was a go-anywhere ensemble that was both comfortable and elegant.

Elise stepped into the culottes and pulled them into position at her waist, then reached for the top as Alejandro crossed to her side.

‘No bra to fasten?’

‘The top is fully lined,’ she explained, intent on closing the buttons. She lifted her head and her eyes clashed with his dark, disturbing gaze. A spiral of sensation began in the region of her stomach, radiating a wealth of sensual warmth which she found difficult to ignore. Dampening it down, she forced her voice to remain steady. ‘I won’t be long. I just need to brush my hair and apply basic make-up.’

‘You look about sixteen.’

She managed a shaky smile. ‘Much too young to be married and pregnant to a man like you.’