The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  In a way Alyse found it a relief to spend the following few days quietly at home. There were letters to write, and she rang Miriam Stanford at the Perth boutique to learn that everything was progressing extremely smoothly—almost as if she had hardly been missed, Alyse thought wryly.

  During the afternoon she prepared their evening meal, taking infinite care with a carefully selected menu. Aleksi invariably arrived home just before five, and after a quick shower he would insist on changing and feeding Georg.

  ‘He needs to recognise a male figure in his young life,’ Aleksi had said the day after Rachel and Alexandros departed for Sydney. ‘Besides, this is the only time I have to give to him five nights out of seven.’

  It left Alyse free to set the table and make a last-minute check on dinner. Just watching the tiny baby in Aleksi’s arms wrenched her emotions, for she could imagine Aleksi being an integral part of Georg’s existence, playing ball, teaching him to swim, simply being there throughout his formative adolescent years. Each time the pull at her heartstrings became a little more painful, and she was gripped with a terrifying fear that although removing Georg to Perth was right for her, it wouldn’t necessarily be right for Georg.

  Conversation over dinner was restricted to their individual daily activities, polite divertissements that lasted until dessert had been consumed, then Aleksi would invariably disappear into the study and not emerge until long after she had gone to bed.

  The possibility that his actions might be deliberate angered her unbearably, and she found herself consciously plotting a subtle revenge.

  The occasion of Solange and Dominic Rochas’ dinner party seemed ideal, and on Friday morning Alyse rang Melanie and arranged for her to babysit Georg while she went shopping for something suitable to wear.

  The desire to stun was uppermost, and she found exactly what she wanted in an exclusive boutique. In black, its bodice was strapless, exquisitely boned and patterned in black sequins, with a slim-fitting knee-length skirt that hugged her slender hips. A long floating silk scarf draped at her neck to flow down her back completed the outfit, and, ignoring the outrageously expensive price-tag, she simply charged it. Shoes came next, and she chose a perfume to match her new image.

  As Saturday progressed it was impossible to quell her reservations, and after feeding and settling Georg into his cot she quickly showered, then settled down in front of the mirror with a variety of cosmetics.

  It seemed to take an age to achieve the desired effect, but eventually she stood back, satisfied with the result. Her hair was brushed into its customary smooth bell-shape, and in a moment of indecision she caught its length and twisted it high into a knot on top of her head.

  Yes? No? ‘Damn,’ she muttered softly, beginning to view the evening ahead with a certain degree of dread.

  Solange was someone with whom she doubted it was possible ever to share an empathy. Even on so short an acquaintance, it was impossible not to be aware that the interior decorator lusted after Aleksi, and the mere fact that Alyse was Aleksi’s wife stacked the odds heavily against her from the start.

  Her dynamic husband had a lot to answer for, she decided as she crossed to the large mirrored closet and slid back the door. Although to be fair, he couldn’t help his dark good looks, nor his sexual appeal, for both were an inherent quality, and, while some men might deliberately exploit such assets, honesty forced her to concede that Aleksi did not.

  A tiny frown of doubt momentarily creased her forehead as she extracted the dress from its hanger. Although it had been selected to shock, she suddenly developed reservations as to its suitability. Remembering precisely why she had purchased it deepened her frown, and her eyes clouded with indecision. What had seemed an excellent means of revenge at the time no longer held much appeal, and she was about to slip it back on to the hanger when she heard Aleksi move into the dressing-room.

  ‘What time have you organised for Melanie to arrive?’

  ‘Seven,’ she answered, turning slightly towards him, watching as he discarded the towel knotted low at his hips, then he stepped into dark briefs and reached for a snowy white shirt.

  His physique was splendid, emanating innate power and strength, and Alyse was unable to prevent the surge of sheer sexual pleasure at the sight of him.

  Impossibly cross with herself, she slid down the zip fastener and stepped into the gown. Her fingers automatically slid the zip into place, then smoothed its sleek lines over her hips before settling on the gentle swell of her breasts, which were exposed to a greater degree than she remembered when originally trying on the gown.

  ‘Did you select that with the intention of raising every red-blooded man’s blood pressure at the party tonight, or simply mine?’ Aleksi drawled from behind, and she slowly turned to face him.

  ‘Why would I deliberately want to raise yours?’ she queried sweetly.

  ‘The result is stunning, but I may not be able to stand guard at your side every minute during the evening to fend off the attention you’ll undoubtedly receive,’ he warned with an edge of mockery, and her eyes acquired a fiery sparkle.

  ‘Really? Are you suggesting I should change?’ There was anger just beneath the surface, and a crazy desire to oppose him.

  His expression darkened fractionally. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And if I choose not to?’

  ‘The only choice you have, Alyse, is to remove the dress yourself or have me do it for you.’ His voice was hard and inflexible, and her chin lifted in angry rejection, her eyes becoming stormy pools mirroring incredulous rage.

  ‘Why, you chauvinistic domineering pig,’ she reiterated heatedly. ‘How dare you?’

  ‘Oh, I dare,’ he drawled silkily, and a shiver slithered the length of her spine at his determined resolve.

  ‘It’s the latest fashion and cost a small fortune,’ she flung angrily. ‘And besides, I won’t have you dictate what I can and can’t wear! ‘

  He reached out a hand and caught hold of her chin between thumb and forefinger, tightening his grasp when she moved to wrench it away. ‘Stop arguing simply for the sake of it.’

  ‘I’m not!’ She was so incredibly furious, it was all she could do not to hit him.

  ‘Surely you know me well enough by now to understand that you can’t win,’ he cautioned with deadly softness.

  ‘You mean you won’t allow me to!’

  He was silent for a few seemingly long seconds, and she held his gaze fearlessly.

  ‘A woman who deliberately flaunts her body indulges in subtle advertising of a kind which promises to deliver. Wear the dress when we’re dining alone, and I’ll be suitably appreciative.’

  ‘Oh, for heavens’s sake! I don’t believe any of this!’

  ‘Believe,’ he said hardily. ‘Now, change.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Defiance, Alyse, simply for the sake of it? Aren’t you being rather foolish?’

  ‘If you derive a sadistic thrill from forcibly removing a woman’s clothes, then go ahead and do it.’

  His eyes assumed a chilling intensity, and she was suddenly filled with foreboding. Without a word his hands closed over her shoulders, propelling her forward, and her chin tilted in silent rebellion as he lowered his head.

  His mouth took possession of hers, forcing her lips apart in a demanding assault that showed little mercy and she held back a silent groan of despair as he deliberately began a wreaking devastation.

  When he relinquished his hold, her jaw ached, even her neck, and her eyes were bright with a mixture of anger and unshed tears.

  His eyes bore an inscrutability she was unable to penetrate, and her mouth trembled slightly.

  ‘Change, Alyse,’ he directed inflexibly. ‘Or I’ll do it for you.’

  She looked at him with scathing enmity. ‘And if I refuse, you’ll undoubtedly admininster some other form of diabolical punishment.’

  ‘Take care,’ he warned. ‘My temper is on a tight rein as it is.’

  ‘So I must conform, at whate
ver cost? That’s almost akin to barbarism!’

  An eyebrow lifted in sardonic cynicism. ‘So far I’ve treated you with kid gloves.’

  A disbelieving laugh emerged from her throat. ‘You have to be joking!’

  ‘Only an innocent would fail to appreciate the slow hand of a considerate lover intent on giving as much pleasure as he intends to take.’ His expression became dark and forbidding. ‘Continue opposing me, and I’ll demonstrate the difference.’

  Alyse looked at him with unblinking solemnity, frighteningly aware of his strength and sense of purpose. To continue waging this particular war was madness, yet some alien stubborn streak refused to allow her to capitulate.

  ‘Don’t threaten me,’ she warned.

  ‘Is that what you imagine I’m doing?’ His voice held a hateful drawling quality that sent shivers of fear scudding down her spine.

  ‘What other word would you choose?’

  ‘Take off the dress, Alyse,’ he warned softly, ‘or I won’t answer for the consequences.’

  It was as if her limbs were frozen and entirely separate from the dictates of her brain, for she stood perfectly still, her eyes wide and unblinking as he swore softly beneath his breath.

  Then she cried out as his fingers reached for the zip fastener and slid it down. Seconds later the exotic creation fell to her feet to lie in a heap of silk and heavy satin. All that remained between her and total nudity was a wisp of silky bikini briefs, and her hands rose in spontaneous reaction to cover her breasts.

  With deliberate slowness Aleksi slid down the zip of his trousers, and it was only as he began to remove them that she became galvanised into action.

  Except that it was far too late, and she struggled helplessly against him, hating the strength of the hands that moulded her slim curves against the hard muscular contours of his body. Her briefs were dispensed seconds after his own, and there was nothing she could do to avoid the relentless pressure of his mouth. He lifted her up against him, parting her thighs so they straddled his hips, and without any preliminaries he plunged deep inside, his powerful thrust stretching silken tissues to their furthest limitation.

  Relinquishing her mouth, he lowered his head to her breast, and she cried out as he took possession of one roseate peak, savouring it with flagrant hunger before rendering several bites to the soft underside of the swollen peak.

  Alyse balled her hands into fists and beat them against his shoulders then gave a startled cry of disbelief as his hands shifted down to grip her bottom, lifting her slightly as he plunged even deeper.

  Then he stilled, and she felt him swell even further inside her, while the hand at her back slid to clasp her nape, urging her head back as he forced her to meet his gaze.

  She wanted to vilify him for an act of savagery, yet among the outrage had been a degree of primitive enjoyment, and she hated herself almost as much as she hated him for it.

  He knew; she glimpsed the knowledge in the depth of his eyes, and hated him even more for the faint mocking smile that curved his lips.

  Hands that had been hard gentled as they cradled her, and he buried his mouth against the hollows at the base of her throat, teasing the rapidly beating pulse there with his tongue, then, just as she thought he was about to release her, he began a slow circling movement with his hips, taking her with him until, almost as a silent act of atonement, pleasure overtook discomfort and her senses became caught up with his, spiralling towards a mutual climax that made her cling to him in unashamed abandon.

  Afterwards she showered, then dressed in a vivid emerald-green ruched satin gown with a demure neckline and fitted lines that accentuated her petite figure.

  Keeping her make-up to an understated minimum, she accented her eyes and outlined her mouth in soft pink before checking on Georg.

  Melanie had arrived and was comfortably settled in the lounge when Alyse emerged several minutes later, and she greeted the girl pleasantly, then accepted Aleksi’s light clasp on her elbow as they took their leave and made their way to the garage.

  ‘I rang Solange and told her not to hold dinner as we’d been unavoidably detained,’ Aleksi told her as the BMW cleared the driveway. ‘I’ve made a reservation at the Club’s restaurant. We’ll eat there.’

  Alyse took a deep breath, then released it slowly. ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘You’ll eat something, even if it’s only soupe du jour,’ he declared with unruffled ease.

  The fact that she did owed nothing to his insistence, and seated opposite him in the well-patronised room she did justice to soup, declined a main course in favour of a second starter of sautéed prawns, refused sweets and settled for a Jamaican coffee.

  It was almost ten when the BMW passed security and slid into a reserved car space in the spacious grounds adjoining a prestigious block of apartments housing Solange and Dominic Rochas’ penthouse apartment, and Alyse stood in meditative silence as they rode the private lift to the uppermost floor.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘ALEKSI!’ SOLANGE PURRED, immediately embracing him in a manner that slipped over the edge from affection and bordered on blatant intimacy. She stepped back, her eyes shifting with glittering condescension to the woman at his side. ‘Alyse.’ She tucked a hand into the curve at Aleksi’s elbow and drew him forward.

  ‘Solange,’ Alyse murmured in polite acknowledgment. ‘How lovely to see you.’

  Liar, a silent voice taunted. She felt about as well equipped to parry a verbal cut and thrust with the glamorous and very definitely bitchy Solange Rochas as flying over the moon! ‘Charming’ was the key-word, and she’d act her socks off—subtly, of course, with the innocuous innocence of an ingénue.

  ‘Everyone is here,’ Solange declared huskily. ‘I was so disappointed you couldn’t make dinner.’

  ‘We were delayed,’ drawled Aleksi, and Alyse merely proffered a sweet smile when Solange cast her a brief interrogatory glance.

  Aleksi had sought to teach her a lesson, and it didn’t bear thinking about the resultant passion that flared between them in the aftermath of anger.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ Alyse added with sweet regret, and almost died as Aleksi caught hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips, deliberately kissing each finger in turn.

  His eyes blazed with indefinable emotion for a brief few seconds, then became dark and faintly hooded as he threaded his fingers through her own and kept them there.

  Liquid fire coursed through her veins, activating each separate nerve-ending as it centred deep within the vulnerable core of her femininity, and she ached, aware of bruised tissues still sensitive from his wounding invasion.

  Almost as if he was aware of her thoughts his thumb brushed back and forth across the throbbing veins at her wrist, and her pulse leapt in recognition of his touch. If she hadn’t retained such a vivid memory of his wrath, she could almost imagine the gesture was meant as a silent token of—what? Apology? Remorse?

  ‘I’m sure you had a very good reason, darling,’ Solange declared, her eyes narrowing with speculative interest as she drew them into the lounge. ‘I’ll get you a drink, then there’s something we must discuss.’ She gave a brittle laugh, then offered in throwaway explanation to Alyse, ‘Business, I’m afraid.’ Then she turned away, effectively shutting Alyse out. ‘The Holmes residence. You absolutely must dissuade Anthea against the shade of pink she insists on having as the main theme. It really won’t do at all.’

  Alyse moved slightly, watching with detached fascination as Aleksi’s mouth curved into a wry smile.

  ‘If you’re unable to exercise your professional influence, Solange, then you may have to accept that it’s Anthea’s house and she’s paying the bills.’

  ‘But it’s my reputation.’

  ‘Then relinquish the commission.’

  The woman’s eyes glittered as she made a moue of distaste. ‘The problem with the nouveaux riches, darling,’ she conceded, with a careless shrug, ‘is their gauche taste.’

  ‘Why not show her
a visual example of one of your previous commissions?’ ventured Alyse, thereby forcing Solange’s attention. ‘Magazine layouts and countless sample swatches can be confusing.’

  Solange looked as if she had just been confronted with an unwanted dissident. ‘Something that would be an impossible intrusion on a former client’s privacy,’ she dismissed with patronising hauteur.

  ‘If I were really delighted with the décor of my home, I’d be only too pleased to share it,’ Alyse qualified quietly.

  At that precise moment Dominic came forward to greet them, and his deep smile was infinitely mocking.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ he greeted, flicking his sister a brief questioning glance before acknowledging Aleksi, then his gaze settled on Alyse with musing indulgence. ‘You look gorgeous, as always. What can I get you to drink?’

  ‘Mineral water will be fine,’ Alyse requested without guile, while Aleksi opted for soda with a splash of whisky.

  Her glass was icy, its rim sugar-frosted, and she sipped the contents, silently applauding the dash of lime juice and twist of lemon.

  ‘Aleksi,’ a soft breathy voice intruded, and Alyse turned slightly and failed to recognise the owner of that husky feminine sound. The slight pause was deliberate, as was her deliberately sexy pout. ‘Didn’t the babysitter arrive on time?’

  Alyse shifted slightly and summoned a brilliant smile. ‘Aleksi is to blame. He didn’t approve of what I’d chosen to wear, and …’ She trailed to a halt, made an expressive shrug, then directed the man at her side a wicked smile. ‘One thing led to another.’

  The stunning brunette’s scarlet-painted mouth parted slightly, then tightened into a thin, uncompromising line.

  ‘How refreshingly honest, darling,’ drawled Dominic, and his eyes gleamed devilishly. ‘I presume it was worth missing dinner?’

  ‘Really, Dominic,’ Solange derided in a voice dripping with vitriol, ‘must you be so crude?’

  ‘My husband can be—’ Alyse paused, deliberately effecting a carefully orchestrated smile, ‘very persuasive.’ There, let them make of it what they chose, and be damned! She was heartily sickened by the various snide comments, the none too subtle innuendo designed to shock or at least unsettle her. Timidity had no place in her demeanour if she were to succeed within Aleksi’s sophisticated circle, and it would seem her only strength lay in presenting an imperturbable if faintly humorous exterior.