‘I have meetings scheduled for most of the day,’ Nikos informed as they took the lift together. ‘I should be back about six. If there’s any delay, I’ll phone you.’
‘0h hell,’ Michelle said inelegantly as they crossed to where their cars were parked.
‘Problems?’
‘A flat tyre.’ Disbelief coloured her voice, and Nikos swore softly beneath his breath.
‘I’ll drop you off at the Gallery. Give me your car keys, and I’ll arrange to have someone fix it.’
Closer examination revealed the tyre had been very neatly slashed.
‘You don’t think—’
‘This is Jeremy’s handiwork?’ He was certain of it. ‘Possibly.’ Just as he was sure there would be no evidence.
He unlocked the BMW and Michelle slid into the passenger seat. Within seconds he fired the engine and eased the large car up the ramp and out onto the road.
Two blocks down he pulled into the kerb, let the engine idle, and reached across to unlatch her door. ‘I’ll ring you through the day.’ He kissed her, hard, briefly, then straightened as she released the seat belt and stepped out from the car.
It was a hectic morning as Michelle caught up on a batch of invoices, liaised with the framing firm, and made countless phone calls.
Lunch was something she ate at her desk, and it came as something of a shock when Nikos rang at three-thirty.
‘I’ve had your car delivered to the Gallery. Don’t forget your four o’clock appointment with the lawyer. I’ll collect you in fifteen minutes.’
Oh hell, she hadn’t forgotten, she simply hadn’t expected the time to come around so fast. ‘Thanks.’
There was a sense of satisfaction in attaching her signature to the legal statement, and a degree of relief the matter was now in official hands.
It was almost five when Nikos drew the BMW to a halt outside the Gallery, and it was a simple matter to slip behind the wheel of her Porsche and followed him the few blocks to her apartment.
The message light was blinking on her answering machine, and she activated the button and listened to the recorded message.
“Eloise, Michelle. You haven’t called. So this is a reminder. Don’t forget Philippe’s party tonight. Six-thirty.”
‘Philippe?’ Nikos queried.
‘My godson,’ she explained. ‘He’s three years old, and tonight is his day-care Christmas party.’ She lifted a hand and pushed a stray lock of hair behind one ear. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t remember.’ She checked her watch. ‘I’ll have to shower, change and leave.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
Michelle cast him a wry glance. ‘To a children’s party?’
‘To a children’s party,’ he repeated mockingly.
It was fun. Parents, family, gathered in front of a large open-air stage at the day-care centre, young children dressed in costume as the teachers led them through their practised paces. Taped music, and childish voices singing out of tune and synch. Smiles and laughter when some of the children forgot they were supposed to act and waved to their parents.
Michelle stood among the crowd, with Nikos positioned behind her, secure within the light circle of his arms.
Afterwards she searched for and found Eloise and her husband, and spent time with Philippe, who displayed his delight at her being there, as well as curiosity for the man at her side. She whispered in his ear in French, and made him giggle.
‘I am a bon tot,’ Philippe repeated in English to his parents. ‘Tante Michelle says so.’
It was almost nine when the pageant concluded, and after bidding Philippe an affectionate goodnight she walked with Nikos to the car.
Minutes later she leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes. It had been an eventful day, following on from a very eventful night.
When they stepped inside her apartment Nikos took one look at her pale features, the dark shadows beneath her eyes, and gently pushed her in the direction of her bedroom.
‘Go to bed, pedhaki mou.’
She needed no second bidding, and within minutes she’d divested her clothes, cleansed her face of make-up and was laying supine beneath the bed-covers.
Sleep came almost instantly, and she woke in the morning, alone. Except the pillow beside hers held an indentation, and there was the soft musky aroma of male cologne as a vivid reminder that Nikos had shared her bed.
Michelle took a hurried shower, then she dressed ready for work and emerged into the kitchen to discover Nikos dressed and speaking into his mobile phone in a language she could only surmise as being his own.
One glance at the countertop was sufficient to determine he’d already eaten, and she finished a small plate of cereal with fruit before he’d completed his conversation.
‘Good morning.’ He crossed to her side, brushed her lips with his own, then he picked up a cup and drained his coffee. ‘Almost ready? I’ll drop you at the Gallery.’
CHAPTER TEN
IT HADN’T been the best of days, Michelle reflected as she entered her apartment just after five. Whatever could have gone wrong, had.
Nikos had called to say he’d be late, and while she told herself she was pleased to have the apartment to herself for more than an hour, that wasn’t strictly true.
She craved the warmth of his arms, the feel of his mouth on hers, the heat that pulsed through her veins at the mere thought of him.
The light on her answering machine blinked, and she ran the message tape, only to hear three hang-ups, which she considered mildly disturbing, given that her mobile number was recorded for contact.
Jeremy? Would he revert to nuisance hang-up calls?
A shower would do much to ease the tension, and ten minutes later she donned denim cut-offs, a fitted rib-knit top, left her hair loose, and applied minimum make-up. It was way too early to begin dressing for the chanty ball, and she didn’t fancy floating around the apartment for more than an hour in a wrap.
The intercom buzzed, and she crossed to activate it.
There was silence for a few seconds. ‘Having fun with your live-in lover, Michelle?’
A sickening feeling twisted her stomach at the sound of Jeremy’s voice, and she released the intercom, only to hear it buzz again almost immediately. She hugged her arms together, hesitated, then picked up the receiver.
Her fingers clenched, and her voice assumed an unaccustomed hardness. ‘Don’t be a fool, Jeremy.’
‘Wisdom isn’t my forte.’
‘What do you hope to achieve by harassing me?’
‘Haven’t you worked it out yet? I find it a challenge to skate close to the law and remain unscathed.’
She hung up on him, and almost didn’t answer the phone when it rang twenty minutes later.
‘Michelle? We have a delivery of flowers for you at reception.’
Michelle’s lips curved into a smile. ‘I’ll be right down.’ She caught up her key and went out to summon the lift.
A beautiful bouquet of carnations in delicate pastels encased in clear cellophane greeted her, and she reached for the attached envelope.
A single word was slashed in black, and showed starkly against the white embossed card. Bitch.
She didn’t need to question who’d sent them.
‘Will you dump these for me?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Dump them,’ Michelle repeated firmly.
‘But they’re beautiful,’ the receptionist declared with shocked surprise.
‘Unfortunately the intention behind them isn’t.’
A fleeting movement on the bricked apron beyond the automatic glass entrance doors caught her eye, and she recognised Jeremy execute an elaborate bow before he moved quickly out of sight.
It was a deliberate taunt. A reminder that he was choosing to play a dangerous game by his own rules.
‘It seems a shame to waste them.’
Michelle merely shrugged her shoulders and headed towards the double bank of lifts.
She had an hour in which to change, apply make-up and do something with her hair.
The thought of attending a pre-Christmas ball to aid a prominent charity held little appeal. Women spent days preparing for this particular annual event. Chantelle, she knew, would have gone from the masseuse to the beautician, had her nails lacquered, then spent hours with the hairdresser.
Ten minutes later she’d stripped down to briefs, added a silky wrap, then she crossed to the vanity to begin applying make-up.
It was there that Nikos found her, and he wondered at the faint shadows beneath her eyes, the slightly too bright smile.
‘Bad day?’ He felt his loins tighten as she leaned close to the mirror.
‘So-so,’ Michelle answered cautiously.
‘Are you wearing anything beneath that wrap?’ he queried conversationally.
She glimpsed the purposeful gleam apparent in those dark eyes, and shook her head in silent mockery. ‘There’s not enough time.’
His smile tugged at her heart and did strange things to the nerves in her stomach. ‘We could always arrive late.’
‘No,’ she declared. ‘We couldn’t.’
He moved to stand behind her, and her eyes dilated at their mirrored image. One so tall and dark-haired, while the top of her blond head barely reached his shoulder.
His hands slid round her waist, released the belted tie, then moved to cup each breast.
Liquid warmth spilled through her veins, heating her body as desire, raw and primitive, activated each nerve cell.
Michelle watched with almost detached fascination as her skin quivered beneath the sweet sorcery of his touch, and she felt her breath catch as one hand splayed low over her abdomen, seeking, teasing the soft curling hair at the apex of her thighs.
The lacy bikini briefs were soon dispensed with, and when she would have turned into his arms he held her still, then he lowered his mouth to the curve of her neck and gently savoured the delicate pulse beating there.
Her bones melted, and she sank back against him, wanting more, much more.
‘You’re not playing fair.’ The words emerged as a sibilant groan as he pressed her close in against him.
His arousal was a potent force, and the need to have him deep inside her was almost unbearable.
Michelle caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and almost gasped at the reflected image. She looked like a shameless wanton experiencing a witching ravishment.
Her eyes were large, the pupils dilated, and her lips had parted to emit a soundless sigh. Pink coloured her cheeks, and her body arched against his in silent invitation.
‘Nikos, please.’
Without a word he grasped hold of her waist and lifted her to sit on the wide marbled vanity top, then he lowered his head to her breast and caressed one pale globe.
It was an erotic tasting that held her spellbound as she became consumed with treacherous sensation, and when she could bear it no longer she caught hold of his head and forced it up, then angled her mouth to his in a kiss that was urgent, hungry, and passionately intense.
How long before they slowly drew apart? Five minutes, ten? She had no idea. All she knew was that the slightest touch, the faintest sound, would tip them both past the point of no return.
It was Nikos who rested his forehead against her own as he effected a soothing circular movement over her shoulders.
‘I guess we should take a raincheck, hmm?’
She wasn’t capable of saying a word, and she looked faintly stricken as she inclined her head in silent acquiescence.
He cupped her face and kissed her gently, then he drew her down onto her feet. ‘I’ll go shower, shave and change.’
When he left she leaned both hands on the vanity and closed her eyes. She felt as if all her nerves had stretched to breaking point, and then shredded into a thousand pieces.
No man had ever had this effect on her before. Not once had she felt so consumed so helpless. Or so deeply involved. It was frightening. For what happened when it ended, as it inevitably would? Could she walk away, and say, Thanks, it was great while it lasted?
The thought of a life without him in it seemed horribly empty.
You’re bound to him, a tiny voice taunted. Until Saska relinquishes her widow’s hold, and Jeremy has been removed, voluntarily or forcibly, from the picture.
So what do you suggest? she demanded silently. Love and live each day as if it’s the last? That’s the fiction. Reality will be a broken heart and empty dreams.
The sound of water running in the adjacent en suite acted as an incentive to gather herself together. She was a mess. Hair, make-up... She’d have to begin from scratch.
Michelle forced herself to work quickly, and after a shaky start she used expert touches to heighten her delicate bone structure, highlight her eyes, and outline her mouth.
Her hair was thick, and it wasn’t difficult to add extra thickness with the skilful use of a brush and hair dryer.
The gown she’d chosen to wear was an ankle-length slinky black silk sheath with a softly draped bodice and slim shoestring shoulder straps. Black stiletto-heeled shoes completed the outfit, and she caught up a matching black stole, a small beaded evening bag, then walked out to the lounge.
Nikos was waiting for her, looking resplendent in a dark evening suit, white cotton pin-pleated shirt and black bow tie.
Michelle felt her heart stop, then quicken to a rapid beat. His broad facial bone structure lent him a primitive air, the chiselled cheekbones, dark eyes, the perfectly moulded nose, and a well-shaped mouth that could wreak such sensual havoc.
He was an impressive man, in a way that had little to do with the physical. There was a ruthlessness apparent that boded ill for anyone who dared to cross his path. There was also a gentleness that was totally in variance with his projected persona.
If he were to gift his heart to a woman, it would be a gift beyond price. A wise woman would treasure and treat it with care.
Such wayward thoughts were dangerous. She couldn’t afford them, daren’t even pause to give them a second of her time.
‘Shall we leave?’ She couldn’t believe her voice sounded so steady, so cool.
The lift descended nonstop to the ground floor, the doors slid open to admit the receptionist before resuming its descent to the car park.
‘Michelle. I put the flowers in a vase on the lobby side-table. It seemed such a pity to waste them. I hope you don’t mind?’ The lift slid to a halt and they emerged into the concrete cavern. ‘Have a great evening.’
‘What flowers?’ Nikos queried as he led Michelle in the opposite direction towards his car.
‘A bouquet of carnations.’
One eyebrow rose slightly. ‘I’ll rephrase that. Who sent you flowers?’ He caught hold of her elbow and drew her to a halt when she didn’t answer. ‘Michelle?’
There didn’t seem any advantage in prevaricating. ‘Jeremy,.’
Nikos’ eyes hardened measurably. ‘He delivered them personally?’
‘Yes.’
‘He spoke to you?’ he demanded sharply.
‘No. He merely stood outside and choreographed an elaborate bow.’
Nikos bit off a pithy oath. ‘That young man seems to choose to dance with danger.’
She could almost feel the palpable anger emanate from his powerful frame as he unlocked the BMW, saw her seated, then he crossed round the car and slid in behind the wheel.
‘Has he rung you at any time today?’ He fired the engine, then eased the car towards the ramp.
‘This evening, shortly after I arrived home.’
There was something primitive in his expression as he turned briefly towards her. ‘Tomorrow morning we transfer to my apartment. And don’t,’ he warned bleakly. ‘Argue. The penthouse can only be accessed by using a specially coded security key to operate the lift. Even the emergency stairwell is inaccessible from the floor below.’ His eyes became hard and implacable. ‘At least I know you’ll be safe there.’
This was all getting a bit too much! ‘Look—’
‘It’s not negotiable,’ Nikos decreed with pitiless disregard.
‘The hell it isn’t!’
‘We’re almost there.’
He was right, she saw with amazement. It was less than two kilometres to the Marriott hotel, and they’d traversed the distance in record time.
‘We’ll discuss this later,’ Michelle indicated as he cruised the car park for an empty space.
‘You can count on it,’ Nikos agreed with chilling bleakness.
Anger at his highhandedness tinged her mood, and her back was stiff as she walked at his side to the lift. There was a group of fellow guests already waiting to be transported to the ballroom, and she forced her facial muscles to relax as they rode the necessary two flights.
From that moment on it was strictly smile-time as they mixed and mingled in the adjoining foyer. Uniformed waiters circulated with trays loaded with champagne-filled flutes, and she accepted one, sipped the sparkling liquid, and endeavoured to visually locate her parents.
‘There you are.’
Michelle heard Saska’s slightly accented voice, summoned a smile, then she turned to face the tall brunette.
‘Saska,’ she acknowledged politely. ‘It’s nice to see you.’ How many mistruths did people utter beneath the guise of exchanging social pleasantries? Too many, she perceived cynically as she tilted her cheek to accept Emilio’s kiss.
The guests began to dissipate as staff opened up the ballroom, and Michelle was supremely conscious of Nikos’ arm along the back of her waist, the close proximity of his body as they moved slowly into the large room.
Circular tables seating ten were beautifully assembled with white linen, gleaming cutlery and glassware, beautiful floral centrepieces. Each table bore a number, and they gravitated as a foursome towards their designated seats.
Saska deliberately positioned herself next to Nikos, and Michelle was intensely irritated by the widow’s deliberate action.
There was, unfortunately, very little she could do about it without causing a scene. A fact Saska had already calculated, and her smile was akin to that of a cat who’d just lapped a saucer of cream.
The Helen Bianchin Collection Page 120