Dangerous Alliance

The silence in the car was deafening, and she could sense his palpable anger. For a second she closed her eyes against the harshness of his features, then slowly opened them again.

Dimitri activated the ignition, then reversed out of the parking bay, and the crunch of tyres sounded abnormally loud as he eased the car towards the designated exit.

The exclusive suburb of Toorak hosted numerous homes belonging to the rich and famous, and the elegant residence that Yanis had built was no exception, she decided as Dimitri brought the Jaguar to a halt before a set of impressive wrought-iron gates, then activated the remote-control modem to open them.

The car swept down a wide, palm-lined driveway and drew to a halt beneath the porte cochère of a magnificent Mediterranean-style mansion whose white-rendered exterior and terracotta-tiled roof conjured up images of the hillside vineyard estates of the Côte d’Azur.

A grandly proportioned home, it contained over a hundred square feet of luxury living on two levels, with five bedrooms and six bathrooms in the main house, a guest cabana which included a lounge and bar, a free-form swimming-pool and a full-size tennis court.

Scrupulously maintained, its gracious formal rooms had been used to entertain Yanis’s business associates, and family friends. A generous man, he’d lent his name to a few worthy charities, and a small fortune in much needed funds had been raised through a variety of functions held here over the years.

Leanne slid from the car, then followed Dimitri through double leadlight doors to the formal entrance hall—a stately marble-tiled room with a crystal chandelier and sweeping mahogany staircase.

Although it had been her home for the past ten years, Leanne never failed to experience a feeling of awe at the sheer magnificence of displayed wealth.

Cream marble-tiled floors graced the ground floor, and there was an abundance of expensive Chinese silk rugs woven in designs employing mushroom, pink, pale blue and green against a cream background. Expensive tapestries graced the pale cream silk-covered walls, and vied for supremacy with original works of art. Yanis had indulged Paige her love of Louis XVI furnishings, and much of the furniture had been imported from France and Italy.

Now a chill slowly traversed the length of Leanne’s spine, and she had consciously to still the sudden shiver that threatened to shake her slender frame with the knowledge that, although Yanis had bequeathed this beautiful mansion to Paige for her exclusive use during her lifetime, upon her death it would inevitably revert to his son.

Which meant that within weeks Leanne would no longer be able to regard it as her home, for afterwards she knew she wouldn’t be able to bear seeing Dimitri here with the woman he would inevitably choose to take as his wife.

It shouldn’t be too difficult to reduce contact gradually to an occasional telephone call, a few brief, friendly written missives, followed by a card at Christmas.

‘Leanne, it is so good to see you.’

A heavily accented voice broke into her reverie, and she turned at once to exchange a warm greeting with Eleni Takis—cook and housekeeper who, together with her husband George, took care of the house and grounds.

‘Eleni.’ There was evidence of barely contained tears, and a wealth of genuine affection.

‘George will take up your luggage,’ Eleni declared as she stood back. ‘And lunch will be ready in thirty minutes.’

‘You shouldn’t have gone to any trouble,’ Leanne protested, knowing she’d have difficulty in consuming more than a few mouthfuls of anything.

‘Nonsense,’ Eleni admonished, and her appraisal of Leanne’s slender frame became faintly critical. ‘You have lost weight. In one so small, that is not good.’

‘If I ate even a half of what you served me, I’d go back to the Coast half a stone heavier and one dress size larger.’

Eleni looked slightly perplexed. ‘But this time you stay. Yes?’

‘Any messages, Eleni?’ Dimitri drawled, and Leanne intercepted an unspoken warning in his tone.

‘Your secretary rang. She is sending you faxes.’

Leanne shot him a quick, enquiring glance as Eleni departed, and met his dark, discerning gaze.

‘Paige requested I take up temporary residence, as she didn’t want you to be in the house on your own.’

Her stomach churned at the thought of having to live, even for a short time, in such close proximity to a man with whom she felt the antithesis of comfortable.

She drew a deep breath, then exhaled it slowly as she sought to keep her voice light. ‘I fail to see why, when I’ve lived alone for the past five years. Besides, Eleni and George live above the garages.’

His eyes narrowed fractionally. ‘Go upstairs and unpack. We’ll talk over lunch.’

About what, for heaven’s sake?

Her bedroom was spacious, airy, and had a splendid view of the pool and gardens. The muted colour scheme was restful, the furniture the epitome of elegance with its imported silk upholstery, and the adjoining en-suite bathroom was a feminine delight in the palest pink travertine marble with crystal and gold fittings.

Without further thought, she discarded her clothes and stepped into the shower cubicle, emerging minutes later to select elegant trousers and a top in pale sage-green cotton, then, dressed, she tended to her hair and make-up.

It was almost one when she entered the kitchen, and Eleni cast her a warm smile.

‘You are just in time. Everything is ready, except for the bread.’

‘I’ll take it through,’ Leanne offered promptly as she crossed to the oven. ‘Anything else?’

‘Just the lamb. The salads are on the table.’

It looked like a feast fit for a king, and far more than two people could possibly eat. There was chilled wine resting in a silver bucket, two exquisite crystal flutes, silver cutlery and the finest bone china.

Eleni took extreme pride in the house, preparing food and presenting a fine table. Paige was a gracious employer who attested that material possessions were useless if they reposed in cupboards and cabinets merely for visual display.

Dimitri entered the room within minutes, smiled indulgently at Eleni’s fussing, then took a seat opposite Leanne as the older woman retreated to the kitchen.

‘Wine?’

‘No—thank you,’ Leanne refused with the utmost politeness.

‘The keys to Paige’s Mercedes are in the top drawer of the cabinet in the foyer,’ he informed her as he filled his glass.

‘Thank you.’

His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You’re hardly a guest, Leanne. The car, or anything else you need, is at your disposal.’

She was about to utter thanks for the third time, then opted against it, choosing instead to attempt to do justice to the excellent Greek salad Eleni had prepared.

Perhaps if she concentrated on food, this crazy ambivalence would disappear. It was quite mad, but she felt as if she was teetering on the edge of a precipice, and nothing could shake her acute feeling of apprehension.

Overwrought, overtired and consumed with anxiety—all of which was quite logical in light of her mother’s state of health, she qualified as she speared a segment of feta cheese and attacked an olive.

The delicately roasted lamb fared little better, and she forked a few mouthfuls then pushed the remaining meat and accompanying vegetables round her plate before discarding it completely.

‘Not hungry?’

‘Eleni will disapprove,’ she offered ruefully.

Dimitri pushed his napkin on to the table and leaned back in his chair. ‘Relax, Leanne.’ His eyes were dark, enigmatic, yet there was a tinge of mockery evident.

‘What topic would you suggest we politely pursue? The state of the nation, the weather? Your latest property acquisition?’