The Helen Bianchin Collection

Her whole body was on fire, and the breath hissed between her teeth as he freed her wrists and dispensed with her long cotton tee shirt.

A swift tugging movement divested his briefs, and she cried out as he sought her breast, teasing a tender peak before suckling shamelessly.

Her hands slid over his shoulders, caressed his spine, then she dug her fingers into his buttocks.

Now. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he sought the moistness, his touch finding the acutely sensitised nub with unerring accuracy.

She went up in flames, then cried out as he sent her higher, and she wasn’t conscious of pleading with him, or begging his possession.

Nicos took her with one deep thrust, and heard her faint intake of breath as silken muscles stretched to accommodate him. He stilled, enjoying the enclosure, the tightness as she gripped and held him, then he began to move, slowly, almost withdrawing completely before surging in to the hilt.

Again and again he repeated the action, increasing the movement until she met and matched his rhythm in a tumultuous ride that left them both slick with sensual sweat.

Katrina waited for her breathing to steady, convinced she was unable to move so much as a muscle. Dear heaven. She closed her eyes, too enervated to do anything, and she groaned out loud as he gathered her close and rolled onto his back.

His hands brushed over her skin in a soothing gesture, and she felt his lips at her temple, the soft hollow beneath her ear.

It felt so good, like coming home after conquering the stormy sea.

Slowly she lifted her body, arching it gracefully as she rose above him. She lifted a hand and tucked her hair behind one ear, then the other, then she touched the tip of her finger to his chest and traced a teasing pattern through the dark hair, pausing to tug a little before following the line arrowing down to his waist.

She felt him harden, his length expanding as she brushed a teasing path back and forth at the juncture of their connection, only to have him replace her fingers with his own.

Her pleasure was immediate, the wild surge of exquisite sensation almost more than she could bear, and this time it was she who rode him on the path to mutual ecstasy.

Yet it was Nicos who held her at the brink, then tipped her over in a mutual, spellbinding free fall.

Katrina fell asleep curled close in Nicos’s arms, her head pillowed against his chest.

Throughout the night they reached for each other, satisfying needs that were alternately urgent, then slow and magically sweet.

There was a part of her that never wanted the sensual dreams of the night to end. How many times had she imagined such a night, relived it again and again, only to wake alone with an emptiness that was all too real?

But as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon she responded to the trail of fingers caressing the curve of her waist, exulted in their intimate touch, and melted into her lover’s body, fitting so well it was as if they were two halves of a whole.

It was late when they rose from the bed and shared a shower. Even later when they sat down to room-service breakfast, lingering over coffee before dressing and checking out.

The late morning flight landed in Sydney after midday, and Nicos collected his car, stowed their overnight bags in the boot, then dropped Katrina outside her office building before traversing inner-city traffic to his own.

She should have been tired, but instead she felt energised, and she rode the lift to her office, checked with her secretary, ordered in lunch, and got to work.

Nicos phoned at four to say he’d be delayed, and Katrina indicated she needed to bring work home.

‘Don’t wait dinner.’

‘You want to ring Marie, or shall I?’ Katrina queried, only to have him respond he’d already done so.

It was after six when she entered the house, and she checked the refrigerator, saw the delicious salad Marie had left for her, then ran lightly upstairs to change and fill the spa bath.

Her solo dinner could wait for half an hour while she relaxed in the pulsating water.

Not such a good idea, she reflected, as the memory of Nicos’s lovemaking came vividly to mind. Even the thought of what they’d shared caused sensation to spiral through her body, and she groaned out loud as she recollected her hungry response.

Nothing had changed, she determined, then closed her eyes in frustrated resignation. Who was she kidding? Everything had changed.

It was almost seven when she donned jeans, a cotton top, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

The salad was delicious, and after she’d eaten it she curled up in a chair in the sitting room and used the remote to switch on the television.

She must have dozed, for she came awake at the touch of hands sliding beneath her thighs.

‘Nicos?’

‘Who were you expecting?’ he drawled musingly.

‘I can walk,’ Katrina declared. ‘Put me down.’

He reached the stairs and began to ascend them. ‘You doubt my ability to carry you?’

She weighed little more than a child, and he wasn’t even breathing heavily when he reached the landing.

‘For heaven’s sake, put me down!’

He let her slide down to her feet, and she moved a few paces, then turned towards her room.

‘Goodnight.’

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

The query was quietly spoken, yet beneath the softness there was a hint of steel, and Katrina looked at him in silent askance.

‘My room.’

‘No.’

‘What do you mean—no?’

‘Last night—’

‘Was a mistake.’

‘The hell it was.’

‘We…’ she paused fractionally ‘…got carried away,’ she qualified. Words, they were only words. None of which even began to describe the extent of her emotional involvement or her reaction.

Nicos’s eyes darkened. ‘Is that how you describe it? Carried away?’

She met his gaze and held it. ‘What else would you call it?’