The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections

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.’

‘Por Dios,’ Alejandro drawled. ‘Why a man like me?’

Levity, surely, was an appropriate weapon, and she used it without hesitation. ‘If you’re going to swear, at least do so in English,’ she chastised with mock severity.

He laughed softly and brushed his lips against hers. ‘You are beginning to recover,’ he mocked drily. ‘Soon you’ll be challenging me at every turn.’

Dear heaven. She’d been that brave to cross verbal swords with him… that foolish?

‘If you’re ready,’ he suggested easily, ‘let’s go and eat.’

She moved into the bathroom, brushed her hair until it resembled a curtain of pale silk, stroked translucent gold shadow on to each eyelid, then applied lipliner and gloss.

When she emerged Alejandro was waiting for her, an impeccably tailored reefer jacket lending an air of sophistication she felt at a loss to match.

The restaurant he chose was Italian, small, delightfully intimate and filled with a variety of beguiling aromas that teased her taste-buds. There was also a tiny square of parquet floor and a man of middle years playing a soft romantic ballad on a small electronic keyboard.

Elise ordered tortellini with mushrooms served with garlic bread, while Alejandro opted for pasta with a marinara sauce, and afterwards she sat back feeling replete.

‘Dessert?’

She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t fit in another mouthful.’

He seemed totally at ease, and she couldn’t help being aware that his presence caused a flutter of interest among several of the female patrons.

How could she blame them? He was a superb male animal, who possessed more than his share of sexual magnetism. Inherent good looks and an overwhelming aura of power made him a spellbinding challenge few women could ignore.

The lilting music and warm convivial atmosphere of the restaurant were persuasive, and she cast him a faintly wistful smile.

‘Would you like to try the dance-floor?’

She looked helplessly at the small square of parquetry that held one couple, then inclined her head in silent acquiescence.

Minutes later she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. Her right hand lay supported between her breasts, while the fingers of her left hand rested against his shoulder. His hands were loosely linked behind her hips, forming a protective cage, and this close she could sense his body-warmth beneath the sophisticated mantle of his clothes.

His movements were sure, fluid, his strength a potent entity as he guided her with effortless ease. The keyboard player sang a hauntingly slow ballad, and to her surprise her steps didn’t falter once, although her breathing quickened in tempo with her fast-beating pulse.

Warm heat spread through her veins, suffusing her body until she was aware of every sensory pleasure-spot, and a deep aching need that cried out for his touch.

She felt his hands shift to curve over the slight swell of her bottom as the ballad finished and another began, even more poignant than the last. Seconds later, she felt the brush of his lips against her hair as they trailed down to settle at her temple, and her stomach executed a tiny somersault, then went into a series of crazy flips as his warm breath stirred a few stray tendrils close to her ear.

Slowly she lifted her head, her eyes skimming the broad column of his throat to take in the firm contours of his mouth, the straight patrician nose, the sculpted cheekbones, and lastly his intensely dark eyes.

What she glimpsed there deepened the colour already staining her cheeks, and her mouth trembled slightly as she sought to put some distance between them.

He immediately loosened his hold, allowing one arm to curve lightly round her back as he led her from the floor.

‘Another drink?’ Alejandro queried when they were seated.

Something cool, icy, she qualified silently. ‘Please,’ she accepted. ‘Lemonade with a dash of lime.’

He ordered coffee for himself, and she sipped the contents of her glass, contrarily wanting the evening to be over, yet strangely hesitant to leave the restaurant.

Why so apprehensive? she reiterated to herself as the Bentley cruised smoothly towards Palm Beach. There was no medical reason why they shouldn’t resume intimacy, and to be so racked with nerves was ridiculous.

‘Do you want to share?’

The sound of his voice startled her, and she turned towards him in silent query.

‘Your thoughts,’ Alejandro elaborated as he eased the large vehicle into the driveway, then activated the remote control to raise the garage doors.

Dear heaven, had he guessed? What would he say if she said she was scared stiff…of him in the role of lover? More than likely he would be mildly amused, she decided wretchedly.

As soon as the car came to a halt she released the seatbelt and slid to her feet, waiting as he sprang the locking system before crossing to her side as they entered the house.

Once indoors she made straight for the stairs, only to come to an abrupt halt as his hand closed over her elbow and he turned her round to face him.

His eyes were faintly hooded, his tone a deceptively soft drawl. ‘You’re reacting like a skittish kitten, unsure whether to leap and run, or stay.’

‘Perhaps because that’s how I feel.’

‘You find my touch abhorrent?’

Oh, my, nothing like aiming straight for the jugular. ‘No,’ she disclaimed quietly. ‘But I’m not ready to sleep with you.’

‘We already sleep together.’ His voice was so dangerously quiet that it sent an icy shiver scudding down her back.

Dull pink streaked her cheeks. He was fully aware of the havoc he was creating, and she hated him for the deliberate assault on her ambivalent emotions.

‘You know that isn’t what I meant.’

He caught hold of her chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting it so that she had to look at him.

She couldn’t articulate a single word, and it was difficult to swallow the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. Her eyes felt large and impossibly wide as she watched his head descend, and she was incapable of movement as he angled his mouth to settle over hers in a kiss that claimed his possession, savouring it in a manner that alternated between gentleness and restrained savagery.

Elise told herself she should be shocked. Instead, she became caught up in a tide of deep primitive need.

One hand cradled her face, the other cupped her bottom as he pulled her hard against him. Evidence of his arousal was a hard, throbbing entity, and she gave a faint moan of protest as his mouth took on a light teasing quality, then slowly withdrew.

She could only look at him, totally ignorant of the deep slumberous quality evident in her eyes. Her lips felt swollen, and she could have sworn they trembled beneath the intentness of his dark gaze.

It was as if time stood still, for she wasn’t conscious of anything except the man: his eyes, the sensual curve of his mouth, the hard planes of his jaw, the strength of his chin, the texture of his skin.

He didn’t say a word for what seemed an age, then he leaned forward, swept an arm beneath her knees and lifted her against his chest.

Sensation curled deep inside her stomach and began radiating through her body as he mounted the stairs to the upper floor.

On entering their suite he closed the door, slid off her shoes, then carefully set her down on her feet. Lifting a hand, he slowly traced the contours of her mouth, probing the softness with a gentleness that made her catch her breath.

‘I want to make love with you.’

Her eyes dilated and her pulse began to kick in a quickened beat. She wanted to voice her nervousness, but the words never left her lips.

His eyes held hers as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a chair, then he loosened his tie and discarded it before unfastening the buttons on his shirt. Next came his shoes and socks.

Elise couldn’t look away as his fingers unbuckled his belt, slid free the slim metal clasp, then freed the zip on his trousers.

Black silk briefs rode low on his hips, barely containing the turgid rigidity of his manhood, and awareness arrowed from her feminine core, focused and so intense that she was unable to suppress a slight shiver that spiralled down her spine.

Slowly he closed the distance between them, took her left hand in his, and led her to the bed. His touch was warm and strong, and she uttered no protest as he sat on the mattress’s edge and drew her close.

Her eyes were almost on a level with his, and she felt mesmerised by the dark gleaming passion evident as he lifted a hand and lightly traced the contours of her face.

The touch of his fingers against her skin was electric, and she swallowed convulsively as they trailed down the column of her throat and traversed a path to the edge of her top.

He freed one button, then the next, until the edges hung loose, and she uttered a faint gasp as he brushed the full curve of her breast.

‘The thought of doing this has driven me to edge of sanity,’ Alejandro said huskily. ‘All evening, every movement you made emphasised their unfettered state.’ With extreme care he eased the blouse free and tossed it to join his discarded clothes.

‘Beautiful,’ he whispered, gently shaping the creamy fullness, testing its weight as he lightly circled each sensitised peak.

Acute sensation curled deeply inside her stomach, and her throat began to constrict as he leaned forward and took one peak into his mouth, rolling it with the roughened edge of his tongue until she felt it swell and harden beneath his touch.

A low groan locked in her throat as he bestowed a similar attention on its twin. Then she gasped out loud as he began to suckle deeply, drawing from each tender peak an erotic satisfaction she had no conscious urge to deny.

When at last he lifted his head, she met his gaze through half closed lids, and she stood quite still as he reached for the waistband of her culottes and began easing the silk down over her hips to pool at her feet. Satin and lace briefs followed, and she felt heat sear her body as he conducted a leisurely appraisal.

He lifted a hand and trailed gentle fingers up over her ribcage, then slowly traversed her hip, slipping to caress the slight roundness of her bottom before brushing a path to her thigh.

His eyes never left hers, and Elise felt her own dilate as he sought the soft, curling hair, then followed its upper line, caressing, moving back and forth, until her whole body began to sing like a finely tuned instrument.

Slowly his hand lowered until he reached the junction between her thighs, and she uttered an audible gasp as he initiated an intimate exploration she was hesitant to accept.

‘Am I frightening you, querida?’

Fear wasn’t quite the word she would have used to describe her feelings. Excitement, exultation, to name only two. ‘No.’ The single negation emerged as a whispered gasp.

His touch proved an erotic torture, and she shuddered as an initial spasm caught hold of her and spiralled out of control.

‘Alejandro.’ His name on her lips was a deep, husky groan.

Dear God, such sweet magic. It was like being taken straight to heaven and shown a hundred different delights.

‘Gently, querida,’ he cautioned as she reached blindly for him.

The soft sounds emerging from her throat were incomprehensible, and she was hardly aware of him easing her down on to the bed.

He carefully moved her injured hand into a comfortable position, then stretched out at her side.

His mouth sought hers in a long, slow, drugging kiss that alternately teased and tantalised, and she began to tremble as his lips began a path of erotic discovery so that it was all she could do not to cry out as he nuzzled the entry to her innermost core.

Brazen, she admitted silently as she climbed to dizzying heights. Shameless. Hopelessly, helplessly passionate and disruptively sensual. She never wanted it to end, yet the spiral of sensation was so incredibly acute she wasn’t sure how much longer she could maintain any restraint.

It was the most intimate kiss of all, a deep, drugging oral simulation of the sexual act. A sensual gift so exquisite, so incredibly generous that she wanted to weep from the joy of it.

Slowly his head moved, and he began raining a trail of open-mouthed kisses over the plane of her stomach, upwards to caress the soft underswell of each breast before fastening on one sensitised peak.

Then he raised his head to look down at her, taking in the slumberous darkness of her eyes, the soft pink that coloured her pale features, and her parted lips.

Elise lifted a tentative hand to the dark springy mat of hair on his chest, and she traced his shoulder, played delicately with the strong cage of his ribs before moving involuntarily down to the taut flat planes of his stomach.

She felt the muscles clench, and unconsciously her tongue edged out and ran a tentative path along her lower lip.

‘Dios,’ Alejandro cursed in husky remonstrance. ‘If you don’t stop now, I will pass the limit of my control.’

She looked at him carefully and glimpsed the latent passion, the heated desire barely masked.

A feeling of power raced through her veins, building until she felt like a goddess in charge of something so infinitely precious, so rare that only she could grant him the release he sought.

With deliberate slowness she trailed her fingers to trace the length of his distended shaft. Fascinated, she afforded it a gentle tactile exploration, feeling it engorge further beneath her featherlight touch.

‘I don’t want your control.’ Her voice was a husky enticement, and she heard his deep despairing groan followed by the sound of silk being torn from hair-roughened skin.

‘Dear God,’ he responded piously, ‘I doubt you would condone my lack of it.’

With extreme care he prepared her to accept him, and she arched instinctively, welcoming the intrusion as he gained entry. The feeling was intense as moist tissues stretched to accommodate his length, and she exulted in the total enclosure.

It was almost as if this were their first time together, and she experienced a sense of wonder in his possession.

As crazy as it seemed, she could feel the blood vessels engorge as she encased him, the spasmodic action of inner muscles as they sought to encourage and match his rhythm.

It was almost as if her body recognised what her conscious mind was reluctant to accept, urging a blatant display of passion that was vaguely shocking.

With the grace of an uninhibited Circe she traced the length of his spine, then gently kneaded his tightly muscled flank. Almost of their own volition her fingers trailed to his hip, then began a slow exploratory inner path to the highly sensitised base of his sex.

Gently, very gently she squeezed the sensitive glans, and exulted in his indrawn breath. Not content, she initiated a seeking path with her lips until they discovered a sensitive male nipple, and she suckled shamelessly, nipping occasionally with her teeth until she felt his powerful body shudder in the initial throes of sensual ecstasy.

She wanted… Dear heaven, what did she want? More, more than this carefully controlled pacing. All of him, plunging deep inside her in a torrent of wild strokes that would take them both to the heights.

Elise was hardly conscious of the soft sounds emerging from her throat as her body reacted with instinctive ease, lifting, angling with a will of its own as she intuitively matched each and every one of his movements.

His hands on either side of her shoulders braced his weight, and she met his mouth hungrily as it closed over hers, his kiss so deep, so consummate, it mirrored the sexual act itself in an erotic joining that culminated in a wild journey to the centre of her sensual universe.

Her mind might deny any conscious acknowledgement of her primeval soul, but every sensitive chord in her awakened body was attuned to this one man, honed by his expertise, tutored with a mesmeric passion that surpassed every restrictive boundary.

There could be no vestige of doubt that she was his. The traitorous proof was apparent in every sensitive nerve-ending, the acute vibrancy that thrummed through her veins, heating her blood to a fervent flame of desire that could only lead to a conflagration of all the senses. Passion—pagan, primitive, and wildly erotic.

When it was finally over, she was so emotionally enervated that she doubted her ability to move so much as a muscle.

She felt tinglingly alive, as if every nerve-ending had become acutely sensitised by his touch, yet drowsy and deliciously spent. Languid, she corrected, smiling as she felt his lips caress the curve of her neck, then slip down to bestow an openmouthed kiss on each breast in turn.

He was…magnificent, she acknowledged dreamily. A tender lover, caring, considerate of her needs. Had he enjoyed himself with her as much as she had with him? Was he satisfied, complete? Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

She felt him move, and she shifted her head to look at him as he retrieved the support for her arm and carefully fixed it in place.

His eyes were dark, slumberous, and her own skittered to a point somewhere beyond his left shoulder.

‘Don’t,’ Alejandro chided huskily as he cradled her head and forced her to look at him, ‘attempt to hide what was an intensely beautiful experience for both of us.’ His thumb probed the swollen softness of her mouth. ‘Exquisito.’

He slid down to lie beside her, gathering her close so that her head nestled beneath his shoulder. With minimum effort he caught hold of the sheet and drew it over them. ‘Go to sleep, querida,’ he bade her gently.

Yet she couldn’t, not for a long time. Instead she lay still, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Had it always been like this, right from the beginning? Or had it taken time and practice to reach such a pinnacle of sexual satisfaction?

Sadly, she didn’t know. There was just the aching acceptance that her body remembered what her mind could not.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE beach was peaceful, with the merest breeze slipping in from the ocean to caress Elise’s skin and tease the length of her hair.

The water was a deep blue, its surface smooth in the distance, cresting as it neared the shore to swirl foam-laced over the hard-packed sand.

A strange feeling of ambivalence held her in its spell…and a degree of sadness. She felt safe here. Secure.

The past ten days had been idyllic: lazily spent sunshine-filled days and easy companionship, long moonlit nights and gentle loving.

Tomorrow they were to return to Point Piper. Next week she was to begin physiotherapy, and there were appointments with the obstetrician and neurologist. Within a very short time Alejandro would drive into the city each morning to spend most of each day in his office atop one of Sydney’s inner-city modern architectural masterpieces, and she would be alone…

An office. Atop a modern city architect-designed building…

She saw it clearly.

A large, sumptuously furnished room, clean lines, expensive prints on the walls, and a wide expanse of tinted plate glass with splendid views over the city and harbour.

An encapsulated vision of a room with a tall, broad-framed figure leaning against the edge of a large executive desk. Alejandro, his expression harsh and forbidding, his silent anger a vivid entity.

She was there, recapturing her anger…his. Hearing the words with frightening clarity.

‘My respect for your father,’ Alejandro declared in a dangerously soft, slightly accented voice that was chilling in its intensity, ‘allowed you to get past my secretary and buy five minutes of my valuable time.’ Dark eyes became icily dispassionate. ‘I suggest you make good use of it.’

‘My father doesn’t know I’ve initiated a personal appeal,’ Elise assured him in immediate defence.

‘It makes no difference. My decision is irrevocable.’

The words were clipped, hard, and horribly final. ‘How can you say that?’ she demanded, launching into passionate speech. ‘He deserves——’

‘Another chance?’

‘Why don’t you let me finish a sentence?’ she parried with mounting antipathy, and encountered his visible cynicism.

‘Four minutes and thirty seconds doesn’t allow for verbose explanation.’

She wanted to hit him. She almost did. Yet there was something electrifyingly primitive beneath his sophisticated façade that warned her that he would retaliate in kind without the slightest qualm.

‘Without your help, my father faces bankruptcy,’ she enlightened him starkly, and glimpsed no visible change in his expression.

‘I head a multinational corporation which has a complex variety of investments throughout the world. Although I retain a controlling percentage, as director I am responsible to a number of shareholders. Your father’s latest appeal for a further extension resulted in extensive feasibility studies. The findings negate any possibility of directorial board approval for either an increase in borrowings or an extension of time.’

Elise felt her misgivings increase at his inflexibility. ‘He’s ill,’ she stressed with a sense of desperation. ‘Conclusive tests reveal the necessity for heart surgery.’