The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections

Relief, dismay—regret? She didn’t want to analyse her emotions, and she gave a shaky smile as he caught hold of her hand.

Alejandro exchanged long trousers and shoes for shorts and Reeboks, insistent that Elise discard sandals for Reeboks too—an action which set the butterflies inside her stomach fluttering into a nervous dance as he hunkered down to effect the change.

It was a glorious afternoon, the sun’s summer warmth caressing her skin as they wandered slowly along the hard-packed sand, which was still slightly damp from an outgoing tide. A gentle breeze teased the length of her hair, causing a few tendrils to drift across her cheek.

There was a sense of freedom apparent, a lightness resulting from confinement in hospital for the past ten days, and she allowed herself several shallow breaths in order to drink in the salty smell of the ocean, the cleanliness of unpolluted air.

A few children were at play in the distance, their chatter and laughter barely audible as they darted back and forth, heads bent in their quest for seashells.

It was good to be alive, Elise decided with a slight smile, only to have the smile slowly fade with the realisation that, had Fate been unkind, her loss would have included the right to life of her unborn child.

An arm curved lightly round her waist, and she turned towards him, her eyes wide as she searched his strong, firmly etched features.

Some degree of her inner anguish must have been apparent, for his hold tightened fractionally, and his lips brushed the top of her head.

She was supremely conscious of his close proximity, aware of his warmth, and the security his powerful frame afforded.

They continued walking until Alejandro drew to a halt. ‘This is far enough, I think.’

Elise viewed the short distance they had travelled and wrinkled her nose at him. ‘I feel fine,’ she protested, not wanting to return to the house just yet. ‘Look,’ she exclaimed, as a large golden retriever loped along the water’s edge. ‘Isn’t he beautiful?’ The dog’s movements were poetry in motion, measured lolloping strides that sent his long golden hair flowing back from his young body.

‘Beautiful,’ Alejandro agreed, and when she turned towards him she saw his focus was centred on her, not the dog.

The breath caught in her throat, and for several long seconds her eyes felt impossibly large, then she smiled, a tinge of humour lifting the edges of her generous mouth. ‘I don’t suppose I could persuade you to walk a bit further?’

‘No,’ he refused lazily, and his eyes held amusement as he looked down into her upturned features.

‘So, this is it for today?’

‘Don’t sound so disappointed.’ He lifted a hand and tucked a flyaway lock of hair behind her ear. ‘There’s always tomorrow.’

Without a word she turned slowly and walked back to the house at his side. Once indoors, he led the way through the kitchen. It was warm, and she felt in need of a long, refreshing drink. She watched as he extracted two glasses, filled each with fruit juice, and held one out to her.

‘You have enjoyed your taste of fresh air and sunshine?’

‘I don’t think anyone fully appreciates the choice of freedom to move anywhere at will until that choice is removed.’ She lifted the glass and took a long swallow of the icy liquid, watching as he followed her actions.

There were several chairs and two sun-loungers positioned on the wide, partly covered terrace, and Elise moved outdoors and sank gratefully into one of the loungers. The sun was beginning to lose some of its warmth, although the house provided sufficient protection from the breeze to make sitting outdoors a pleasure.

‘Your face has regained a little colour,’ Alejandro observed as he chose the other lounger close by, and she bore his scrutiny with equanimity.

‘Another two weeks of this, and I’ll resemble a sybarite,’ she said, with a tinge of humour.

‘Your welfare is very important to me.’

The quietly spoken words stirred her sensitised nerve-ends, and she examined his features carefully. ‘I hesitate to think at what cost,’ she ventured slowly.

Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, a fleeting emotion she was unable to define before it was successfully hidden. ‘I retain eminently qualified personnel.’

Whose positions within the Santanas corporation Alejandro would instantly terminate should any one of them fail him in any way. The knowledge was an instinctive judgement that needed no qualification, and she was silent for several long minutes.

‘It’s difficult to comprehend that there was a time when I knew everything about you,’ Elise confessed.

‘While now there are only gaps?’

‘A deep, yawning abyss,’ she corrected with a faint grimace.

‘Which you would like me to fill?’

‘You did that to some extent while I was in hospital.’ Details, facts. Not the personal things she desperately wanted to know.

‘So, querida,’ he mocked gently, searching her intent expression, ‘where would you like me to begin?’

‘I think…with you. Where you were born, when. Your family. Things you enjoy doing.’

‘An extended biography?’

‘The condensed version.’

His eyes held warm humour, and his soft laughter transformed the hard-chiselled bone-structure, so that for a brief moment he appeared almost human, she decided, as he lifted the glass to his lips and drained the contents in one easy swallow.

‘My father was born in Andalucia, the son of a wealthy landowner. My mother was a descendant of the French aristocracy. After their marriage they emigrated to Australia, where I was born. A year later my mother died in childbirth. Papa never fully recovered emotionally, and my paternal grandmother flew out for an extended visit, only to stay on and raise her only grandson. It was because of that good woman’s determined strength that I stayed at school and received the education my father insisted I endure.’

He paused to shoot her a faintly whimsical smile. ‘I was known to display rebellion on occasion.’

Elise had a vivid mental picture of a tall youth whose broad bone-structure had yet to acquire its measure of adult musculature.

‘At university I acquired several degrees associated with business management and became part of my father’s financial empire. At the lowest level,’ Alejandro qualified drily. ‘A Santanas son was accorded few advantages, and I spent several years proving my worth. A fatal accident ended my father’s life, and I was catapulted through the ranks to a position on the board of directors.’ He spared her a faintly cynical glance. ‘The next few years were—difficult, shall we say? Men with years of experience do not view kindly a young man taking control of a string of multinational companies, or making decisions that oppose their way of thinking.’

Elise looked at him thoughtfully, seeing the strength of purpose, the chilling degree of hardness apparent, and barely controlled the faint shiver that threatened to slither down her spine. ‘You succeeded.’ As if there could be any doubt.

His expression did not alter for several long seconds. ‘Yes,’ he acknowledged with wry cynicism.

Had she been his social equal? Somehow she didn’t think so.

‘I have little idea of what my childhood was like,’ she proffered with pensive introspection. ‘The photo albums you brought to the hospital reveal events of which I have no recollection. I can only piece together the visual impression of a happy childhood. A mother I can’t remember, whose passing must surely have caused my father great grief. I don’t even know the extent to which I missed her. Or whether boarding-school was a happy experience or a lonely one.’ She paused, her eyes dark with reflected intensity. ‘I chose paediatric nursing as a career, but I don’t know if I had a boyfriend, or several. Or what sort of life I led before I met you.’

‘I doubt the existence of many boyfriends in other than a platonic sense,’ Alejandro put in with indolent humour. ‘You were relatively inexperienced.’

Her eyes sparked with resentful resignation. ‘A fact you no doubt soon remedied.’

His husky laughter was almost her undoing. ‘With immense pleasure, mi mujer. You proved to be an apt and willing pupil.’ He leaned forward and brushed his mouth against her own, his eyes gleaming with humour as she reared back from his touch. ‘Time to prepare dinner, I think.’

An hour later they sat down to soup, and followed it with grilled steak and salad, electing to watch television until Alejandro deemed it time to retire to bed.

Elise had little option but to accept his assistance, and she stood, head bent, lower lip caught between her teeth, as he began freeing her clothes.

There was something incredibly sensual in having him tend to the buttons on her blouse, the fleeting touch of his warm fingers as they brushed her sensitised flesh. To have him unclip her bra and feel his light touch against each breast.

Last night should have prepared her for the protracted intimacy of standing part-naked in front of him. Yet, try as she might, she was unable to control the shallowness of her breathing, or prevent the faint colour heightening her cheekbones.

It was a relief to escape into the en suite bathroom and shower alone, and she took as long as she dared before emerging to find Alejandro waiting to towel her dry.

She wanted to say she could manage, and for a moment she almost did, but one look at his dark, brooding features was sufficient for her to realise that such an action would be the height of foolishness.

The instant her nightgown was safely in place she made to turn away, only to have her movement stalled as her chin was caught between a firm thumb and forefinger.

‘Don’t,’ Alejandro began in cautionary remonstrance, ‘erect obstacles where none exist.’

The soft drawl matched the faint mockery evident in those dark eyes, and a lump rose in her throat that made it difficult for her to swallow.

Her mouth trembled, and she felt the ache of unshed tears as she searched the strong masculine features, noting the grooves that slashed his cheeks, and the tiny lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes.

‘How can you say that?’ she queried in strangled tones, feeling at a loss to cope with the force of his compelling masculinity.

He lifted a hand and traced a finger down the slope of her nose, then traversed the tip to settle on the curve of her lip.

‘Easily,’ Alejandro assured her as he lightly stroked the soft fullness of the lower contour before exploring the generous line above.

His touch was provocative, light, and sent warning flares to each separate nerve-ending as a deliciously warm sensation slowly radiated through her whole body.

I could close my eyes and become lost, thought Elise, swayed by emotion and held in its invasive thrall. There was a part of her that hungered for the touch of his hands, his mouth, and she had the most insane desire to plead with him to turn the erotic images into reality.

A soft moan whispered from her throat as his mouth closed over hers, teasing, tasting, in a gentle exploration that brought her body close to his in an involuntary movement as he carefully deepened the kiss.

It was heaven, she decided hazily, filled with such agonising sweetness that she felt as if she were melting, boneless. His.

She wanted more than the mere fusing of their mouths. Much more. It was almost as if some secret part of her was privy to a knowledge that eluded her conscious mind, and she gave a tiny despairing moan as his tongue slowed its masterful stroking dance with her own as a prelude to retreat.

As he lifted his head her eyes clung to his, wide and almost trance-like, for several long seconds before his features swam into focus.

Elise glimpsed the passion held severely in check, the deep slumbering emotion that darkened his gaze, and something else she couldn’t quite define.

Her lips were swollen and the inside of her mouth so acutely sensitised that she wondered if she was capable of uttering so much as a word.

Never had she felt so hauntingly vulnerable, or so fragile. A pulse thudded visibly at the edge of her throat as the blood drummed through her veins, and she lifted her left hand, only to let it fall helplessly to her side.

‘Bed, I think,’ Alejandro decreed, his eyes narrowing as he glimpsed the effort it cost her to retain some measure of control.

His hand cupped her left shoulder, then slid to her breast, slipping beneath the silk to shape the tumescent mound with exquisite care.

She felt it swell beneath his touch, the peak tautening in sensitive arousal, then his mouth assumed a wry humorous twist as he lifted both hands to frame her face.

‘Television, or would you prefer to read?’

It took considerable effort to summon a faint smile as she allowed him to lead her towards the bed. ‘Television,’ she declared unevenly. ‘Providing I get to choose the programme.’

‘Brave words, querida,’ he teased lightly. ‘You will probably be asleep by the time I have shaved and showered.’

She was unable to still the faint fluttering of butterfly wings inside her stomach, and her gaze became pensive as he stripped down to his briefs, then crossed to the en suite bathroom.

He was an enigma, Elise decided thoughtfully as she endeavoured to concentrate on the images flickering across the screen.

Darkly intense, almost frightening. Yet he could be gentle and considerate. A difficult mixture to comprehend, she accepted silently, wondering if there had ever been a time when she had understood him.

Thinking about it made her tired, and her lashes drifted down as she lapsed into dreamless oblivion.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE days ran one into the other, each following a similar pattern to the one preceding it. They rose early, dressed, and went for a walk along the deserted beach, then returned to eat a simple breakfast out on the covered terrace, after which Alejandro would disappear into the study for an hour.

It was his only concession to maintaining a check on business interests, and although there was a phone in the car, and a mobile cellular unit tucked into the pocket of his shorts whenever they moved away from the house, only once did either ring. His instructions on each occasion had been chillingly brief.

Occasionally he would pack a picnic lunch and drive to one of the neighbouring beaches, or a designated park. Sometimes they stayed at home and watched videos. Late each afternoon they embarked on a leisurely walk along the beach.

With every passing day the pain in Elise’s hand lessened, the bruising faded, and she was soon able to don and shed her clothes without help, something she considered to be a milestone.

Alejandro appeared to be attuned to her every mood, watchful that she didn’t become tired, and able to coax her into laughter with very little effort at all, until gradually she began to relax and regard him with hesitant affection.

She became accustomed to the light brush of his fingers across her skin, the touch of his hand on her arm, cupping her shoulder, resting at the small of her back or curved round her waist. The light touch of his mouth against her own was something else, and more than once she was barely able to suppress a tide of sensation as he instigated a teasing kiss. At night she no longer felt uneasy when he joined her in bed, nor did she attempt to pull her hand away when he threaded his fingers through her own.

Yet all the time she was aware of his restraint, the latent passion just beneath the surface of his control. Occasionally she glimpsed evidence of it in the darkening of his eyes, felt it in the sudden quickening of his pulse.

The knowledge made her nervous, tugging at something hidden deep inside her. It generated a waiting expectancy that sent tiny flares of fire surging through her veins, set her fine body-hair on edge, and curled insidiously at the core of her femininity.

The weekend came and went, with a series of scattered showers which kept them indoors. Monday dawned fresh and clear, with not a cloud in sight.

‘I thought we’d pack some food in the car and head north,’ Alejandro declared as she cleared the last of their breakfast dishes and watched as he rinsed and slotted them into the dishwasher.

‘What time do you want to leave?’ Elise queried with an alacrity that curved his mouth into a slow teasing smile.

‘Allow me an hour in the study. Around ten.’

It was a glorious day, the sun high in an azure sky, with a soft breeze tempering the midsummer heat.

Alejandro brought the car to a halt and switched off the engine. The view out over the park was one of tranquillity, with several large trees lining the grassed verge. Bleached white sand bordered the eastern boundary, and the surface of the lazy outgoing ocean tide shimmered in the early afternoon heat.

‘Hungry?’

Elise turned towards him and offered an easy smile. ‘Ravenous.’

The park was almost empty, and Alejandro slid from behind the wheel and walked to the rear of the vehicle to retrieve a rug, cushions and a picnic hamper from the capacious boot, choosing a smooth patch of grass beneath a nearby tree.

Minutes later Elise sank to her knees and watched as he began apportioning food on to two plates.

Cold chicken and salad, with crusty bread rolls and fresh fruit, presented a veritable feast, and she picked up a chicken leg and bit into it with relish.

‘Your appetite is improving,’ Alejandro commented in approval, and she wrinkled her nose at him.

He sat stretched out beside her, his powerfully muscled legs tanned by the sun. His feet, like hers, were shod in Reeboks.

Looking the antithesis of a wheeling, dealing multinational corporate leader, he had ignored designer leisurewear in favour of cut-off jeans and a loose cotton shirt. The effect was devastating, she conceded as she allowed herself a circumspect appraisal, all too aware of the effect he had on her equilibrium as she admired his chiselled jaw, the firm sensual mouth, then slowly raised her eyes to meet the dark intentness of his gaze.

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.