The evening’s entertainment was to be broken into segments during the elaborate four-course meal, with a fashion parade as the conclusion.
Chantelle and Etienne Gerard joined them, together with two young couples. There was time for a brief round of introductions before the obligatory speech by the charity’s fundraising chairman, which was followed by a delicious French onion soup.
A magician dressed in elegant black, grey and white fatigues, white-painted face and black-painted lips demonstrated a brief repertoire with a multitude of different coloured scarves, silver rings, and a small bejewelled box.
A seafood starter was served, and Michelle nibbled at a succulent prawn, forked a few mouthfuls of dressed lettuce, then reached for the iced water.
Saska held Nikos’ attention in what appeared to be a deep and meaningful conversation. Michelle caught Emilio’s eye, saw his almost imperceptible wink, and felt her lips twitch.
He held no fewer illusions that she did. Emilio enjoyed the social scene, deriving cynical amusement from the many games of pretense the various guests played for the benefit of others. He was rarely mistaken in his assessment.
The starter dishes were collected by staff as the lights dimmed and a gifted soprano gave an exquisite solo performance from a popular opera.
Michelle sipped champagne and endeavoured to ignore the spread of Saska’s beautifully lacquered nails on Nikos’ thigh. The slight movement of those nails didn’t escape her attention, and she felt the slow build of anger. And jealousy. Although she refused to acknowledge it as that emotion.
‘Oh well done,’ Saska accorded as the guests burst into applause.
Michelle watched her turn towards Nikos, say something in Greek, laugh, and touch the sleeve of his jacket.
Perhaps, she decided, it was time to play. The young man seated next to her was about her own age, and had partnered his sister to the function.
Michelle leaned towards him. ‘I would say it’s going to be a very successful evening.’
Two spots of colour hit his cheekbones. ‘Yes. Yes, it is.’ He indicated the soprano accepting a second round of applause. ‘She’s really quite something, isn’t she?’
‘Quite something,’ Michelle agreed solemnly.
‘The food is good, don’t you think?’ he rushed on earnestly. ‘Can I help you to some wine? More champagne?’
She gave him a slow sweet smile. ‘You could fill my water glass, if you don’t mind.’
He didn’t mind. In fact, he couldn’t seem to believe his luck, given that the beautiful blonde who seemed to want to talk to him was in the company of a man whose power, looks and degree of sophistication were something he doubted he’d ever aspire to.
‘Do you attend many of these charity functions?’
He was nice, pleasant and easy to talk to. ‘My parents are very supportive of a few major charities,’ she revealed. ‘So yes, I attend a few each year.’
‘Is—’ he began awkwardly. ‘Are you—Would you dance with me later?’
‘I’d like that,’ she said gently.
They were interrupted as the waitress deftly served the main course, and Michelle offered him a faint smile as she transferred her attention to the food.
She felt the light brush of fingers against her cheek, and she turned towards Nikos in silent query.
‘He’s just a boy,’ he chided softly, and glimpsed the brilliant flare of gold in the depths of those beautiful green eyes.
‘Are you saying,’ she said with extreme care, ‘that I shouldn’t talk to him?’
‘I doubt he’s equipped to cope with your flirting.’
She met his gaze with composed tolerance. ‘While you, of course, are well able to cope with Saska.’
‘You noticed.’ It was a statement, not a query, and she wanted to say she noticed everything about him. Except to acknowledge it would be tantamount to an admission of sorts, and she didn’t want to betray her emotions.
He took hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips, then kissed each finger in turn. ‘Eat, pedhaki mou.’
Dynamic masculinity at its most lethal, she accorded silently. All she had to do was look at him, and she became lost It was if every cell in her body wanted to fuse with his, generating a sensual chemistry so vibrant and volatile, it was a wonder it didn’t burst into flame.
‘In that case, you’d better let me have my hand back,’ she managed calmly, and glimpsed the musing gleam evident in those dark eyes so close to her own.
‘Don’t be too sassy,’ Nikos drawled softly. ‘Remember, we eventually get to go home together.’
‘I’m trembling.’
‘It will be my pleasure to ensure that you do.’
‘Then I suggest you eat,’ Michelle said demurely. ‘You’ll need the energy.’
One eyebrow slanted in visible amusement, and his eyes gleamed darkly.
‘Darling,’ she added, sotto voce, and pulled her hand free. She glanced up, caught Emilio’s wicked expression, and widened her eyes in a deliberately facetious gesture.
Chicken and fish were served alternately, and she picked at the fish, speared the exotically presented vegetables, then pushed her plate forward. Dessert would follow, accompanied by a cheeseboard, and all she felt like was some fruit and cheese.
She picked up her glass and sipped the iced water, watching with detached fascination the precise movements as Nikos dealt with his food. He looked as if he took pleasure in the taste, the texture of each mouthful.
As he took pleasure in pleasing a woman. Just to see his mouth was to imagine it gliding slowly over her body, caressing soft skin, savouring each pulse beat. The sensual intimacy, the liberties he took, and her craven response.
Dear heaven, she could feel the blood course through her veins, heating her skin, just at the thought of what he could do to her.
Almost as if he sensed a subtle shift in the rhythm of her heart, he paused and slowly turned towards her.
For one millisecond, she was unable to mask the stark need, then it was gone, buried beneath the control of self-preservation, and his eyes darkened in recognition.
It felt as if there was no one else in the room, only them, and she could have sworn she swayed slightly, drawn towards him as if by some magnetic power.
Then he smiled. A soft widening of his mouth that held the hidden promise of what they would share.
She bit into the soft tissue of her lower lip, felt the slight stab of pain, and tasted blood. Her eyes flared, and the spell was broken. The room and its occupants reappeared, the sound of muted chatter, background music.
The waiters moved unobtrusively, removing dishes, plates, while a noted comedian took the microphone and wove jokes into stories with such flair and wit, it was impossible not to laugh.
Dessert comprised glazed strawberries in a chocolate basket decorated with fresh thickened cream. Sinful, Michelle accorded silently as she bit into the luscious fruit. She abandoned the chocolate and cream, and reached for the crackers and cheese as the compere announced the fashion parade.
Models took the stage in pairs, displaying an elegant selection of day wear, after five, and evening wear.
Coffee was served as the last pair of models disappeared from the stage, and it acted as a signal for the deejay to set up the music. It was also a moment when several guests chose to leave their respective tables to freshen up.
‘Do you think—’ a male voice inclined tentatively. ‘Would you care to dance with me?’
Michelle turned towards him with a smile. ‘Yes.’ She placed her napkin on the table and rose to her feet.
He was good, very good, and she laughed as he led her into a set of steps she could only hope to follow. This was fun, he was fun, and for the next few minutes she went with the music.
‘You do this very well,’ she complimented as the music slowed to a more sedate beat.
‘My sister and I are ballroom dancing competitors.’
‘It shows,’ she assured.
&n
bsp; ‘I don’t suppose—’ He shook his head. ‘No, of course not. Why would you?’
She looked at him and saw the enthusiasm of youth. ‘Why would I what?’ she queried gently.
‘Agree to go out with me. The movies, a coffee. Anything.’
‘If I wasn’t with someone, I’d have loved to.’
‘Really?’ He could hardly believe it. ‘You would?’
‘Really,’ she assured.
The track finished, and Michelle took the opportunity to thank him and indicate a return to their table.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nikos met her eyes as she took the seat beside him, and he refilled her glass and handed it to her as the young man led his sister onto the floor.
‘Did you let him down gently?’
‘He asked me out.’
‘Naturally you refused.’
She decided to tease him a little. Heaven knew he deserved it. ‘I gave it considerable thought,’ she said demurely. ‘And I decided I would—’ She paused deliberately, then offered an impish smile. ‘Dance with him again.’
Nikos pressed a forefinger to the centre of her lips. ‘Just so long as the last one is mine.’
‘I’ll try to remember,’ she responded solemnly.
‘Minx,’ he accorded. ‘Do you want some coffee?’
‘I think so,’ Michelle said solemnly. ‘Any more champagne, and I might not be held responsible.’
His smile almost undid her. ‘Responsible for what?’
‘Doing Saska an unforgivable harm.’
‘She’s a friend.’
‘I know, I know. It’s just that the boundaries of her friendship with you seem to be expanding.’
‘At the moment. Soon they’ll shift back to their former position.’
‘I admire your faith in human nature, but don’t you think you’re a little misguided?’
‘No.’
A waitress appeared with a carafe of coffee and she poured them each a cup. Michelle reached for the sugar and stirred in two sachets.
‘Nikos? Perhaps we could dance? Michelle, you don’t mind, do you?’
She gave Saska a brilliant smile. ‘Of course not I intend to finish my coffee.’
‘You and Nikos appear to be getting along together exceptionally well,’ Chantelle inclined when Nikos and Saska had moved out of earshot.
She wanted to tell her mother the truth, but what was the truth? She wasn’t sure any more. ‘Yes,’ she responded carefully. How would her mother react if she relayed they fought like hell on occasion and their lovemaking resembled heaven on earth?
Be amused, probably, offer a good argument cleared the air, and add the making up was always the best part.
‘We’re leaving soon, darling,’ Chantelle relayed. ‘It’s quite late, and your father has an early flight to catch tomorrow. Maybe we could have lunch together ? I’ll call you, shall I?’
Nikos and Saska resumed their seats, and Michelle tried to ignore the arm he draped across the back of her chair. It brought him close and implied a deliberate intimacy.
‘Please, Maman. I’ll look forward to it.’
‘Saturday, perhaps?’
‘Not the weekend,’ Nikos disputed. ‘We’ll be in Sydney.’
She cast him a challenging look. ‘We will?’
‘I have business there,’ he enlightened with a mocking drawl that didn’t fool her in the slightest.
‘The break will do you good, cherie,’ Chantelle enthused.
Since when had Nikos gained the God-given right to organise her life? Since he first walked into it, she acknowledged cynically.
Which didn’t mean she’d simply give in without a struggle, and she said as much as he drew her on to the dance floor.
‘I don’t like being told what to do.’
‘Especially by me, hmm?’
‘Look—’
‘No, pedhi mou,’ Nikos stated with deceptive mildness. ‘This is the way it is.’ His eyes were at variance with his voice. ‘Tomorrow I have a two o’clock meeting in Sydney, which will conclude with a social dinner. I plan to fly back to the Coast on Sunday. You get to go with me.’
‘And just how do you propose to indicate my presence?’
His appraisal was swift, calculating, and brought a tinge of soft colour to her cheeks. ‘I am answerable to no one.’
Michelle closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again. ‘Well, now there’s the thing. Neither am I.’
‘Yes,’ he refuted with silky tolerance. ‘You are. To me. Until the situation with Jeremy is resolved.’
Anger and resentment surged to the surface, lending her eyes a brilliant sparkle. ‘Let’s not forget Saska in this scheme of things.’
An indolent smile curved the generous lines of his mouth. ‘No,’ he drawled with an edge of mockery. ‘We can’t dismiss Saska.’
Her back stiffened in silent anger. ‘I don’t think I want to dance with you.’
His lips brushed her temple, and his hands trailed a path up and down her lower spine in a soothing gesture.
‘Yes, you do.’
Caught close in his arms wasn’t conducive to conducting an argument, for she was far too conscious of the feel of that large body, the subtle nuances of sensation as her system went into overdrive.
‘Always so sure of what I want, Nikos?’
His eyes held knowledge as he held her gaze. A knowledge that was infinitely sensual and alive with lambent passion. ‘Yes.’
She was melting, subsiding into a thousand pieces, and there wasn’t a sensible word she could frame in response.
His cologne combined with the scent of freshly laundered clothes and a barely detectable male muskiness. It proved a potent mix that attacked her senses, and she felt the need to be free of him, if only for the five or so minutes it would take to freshen up.
‘I need to visit the powder room.’
It was late, and already the evening was beginning to wind down. In another hour the venue would close, and those inclined to do so would go on to a nightclub.
Michelle left the ballroom and entered the elegantly appointed powder room. After using the facilities, she crossed to the mirror to repair her make-up, and barely glanced up as the door swung in to admit another guest.
Saska. Coincidence, or design? Michelle opted for the latter.
‘I have to hand it to you,’ Saska complimented as she crossed to the mirror. ‘You move quickly.’
No preamble, no niceties. Just straight to the heart of the matter.
‘It’s taken you less than a week to have Nikos delight in playing your knight in shining armour.’
Michelle capped her lipstick and placed it in her bag. ‘I’m very grateful for his help.’
‘Very convenient, these little episodes which have occurred with Jeremy.’ She spared a glance at Michelle via the mirror, and one eyebrow arched in disbelief. ‘You must agree it raises a few questions?’
‘Are you accusing me of contriving a situation simply to manipulate Nikos’ attention?’
‘Darling, women are prepared to do anything to get Nikos’ attention,’ Saska declared with marked cynicism.
‘Does that include you?’
‘I would be lying if I said no,’ Saska admitted.
Michelle drew in her breath and released it slowly. ‘And the purpose of this little chat is?’
‘Why, to let you know I’m in the race.’
‘There is no race. Nikos isn’t the prize.’
‘You’re neither naive nor stupid. So what game are you playing?’
‘None,’ Michelle said simply. ‘Blame Nikos. He’s the one intent on being the masterful hero, without any encouragement from me.’ Without a further word she turned and left the room.
Nikos and Emilio were deep in conversation when she slid into her seat, and she met Nikos’ swift glance with equanimity.
‘More coffee?’
‘Please.’
He signalled the waitress, and instructed her to refill bot
h cups.
It was almost midnight when they left, and Michelle looked at the towering apartment buildings standing like sentinels against a dark sky. Lit windows provided a sprinkling of regimented light, and she wondered idly at the people residing there. A mix of residents and holiday-makers intent on enjoying the sun, surf and shopping available on this picturesque tourist strip.
Nikos paused at the lights, then turned into suburban Main Beach. Within minutes the car swept beneath her apartment building.
‘I’m going to bed,’ Michelle announced the instant Nikos closed the front door behind them.
‘If you want to fight, then let’s get it over and done with,’ Nikos drawled with amusement.
She swung round to face him, and her chin tilted fractionally as she lifted one hand and began ticking off one finger after another. ‘I’m not moving into your penthouse, and I’m not—’ she paused and gave the word repetitive emphasis ‘—not spending the weekend in Sydney with you.’
‘Yes, you are.’
She was on a roll, and unable to stop. ‘Will you please do me a favour and inform Saska that I did not contrive to gain your attention by playing a pretend assault game with Jeremy!’
His eyes narrowed. ‘She’s—’
‘Delusional,’ Michelle accused fiercely.
‘Temporarily obsessive,’ Nikos amended.
‘That, too!’
He crossed to where she stood and placed his hands on her shoulders, kneading them with a blissfully firm touch that eased the kinks.
Dear Lord, that felt good. Too good, she perceived. Any minute now she’d close her eyes, lean back, and give in to the magic of his touch.
His lips brushed against the sensitive hollow at the edge of her neck, and she stifled a faint groan in pleasure.
She felt his fingers slide the shoestring straps over her shoulders, and the trail of kisses that followed them.
‘This isn’t going to resolve a thing,’ Michelle inclined huskily as she acknowledged the slow curl of passion that began building deep inside. Any second now she wouldn’t possess the will to resist him.
‘Nikos, please—don’t,’ she almost begged as he kissed a particularly vulnerable spot at her nape.
‘You want me to stop?’
No, but I daren’t allow you to continue. Not if I want to retain any vestige of sanity.
The Helen Bianchin Collection Page 121