Minutes later the glass was swept into a dustpan, and the vacuum cleaner sucked up any remaining splinters. A few swirls with the mop to remove the water puddles and everything was restored to normal.
Petros appeared soon after, and Ana registered he must have broken the speed limit to arrive so quickly. He took one look, and his eyes went black with anger.
‘I’ll take you to the hospital.’
‘Home, Petros. It’s only a few scratches.’
‘The hospital, Ana,’ he reiterated firmly. Without pausing, he scooped her into his arms, ignored her protest, and spoke to Rebekah over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. ‘I’ll ring as soon as the doctor has attended to her.’
It was, she registered with amusement, the first time he’d used her Christian name. Later, she’d tease him about it. But for now she was content to have him take charge.
The Mercedes was double-parked at the kerb, the passenger door open, and he lowered her into the seat.
‘Petros, I didn’t know you cared.’ Flippancy was the only way to go, and she glimpsed a muscle clench at the edge of his jaw before he straightened and moved round the car to take the wheel.
The hospital staff were efficient. Excruciatingly so. Petros hovered, then retreated, only to reappear minutes later.
Two gashes required sutures. They examined her from top to toe, did an ultrasound, admitted her for observation, and the obstetrician conducted an examination.
Petros stood guard in the room, and only left it on instruction from the sister-in-charge.
‘You’re fine, my dear.’ The obstetrician reassured, ‘The baby is fine. No sign of foetal distress.’
‘I can go home?’
‘Tomorrow.’ He offered a faint smile. ‘We’ll keep you in overnight as a precaution.’
Why did she get the feeling this was a conspiracy?
As soon as he left she rang the shop, spoke to Rebekah, then she settled back against the cushions and reflected on Celine’s actions, retracing to the moment the woman entered the shop.
Had Celine meant to cause deliberate harm? Or was it merely a heat-of-the-moment thing? It was difficult to judge.
A nurse brought in tea and a few courtesy magazines, followed soon after by the sister-in-charge, who queried her level of comfort.
Lunch came and went, and reaction must have taken its toll, for she woke from a light doze to find Luc seated in the chair beside her bed.
‘What are you doing here?’
He rose to his feet and moved to her side. His faint smile held warmth, but there was something evident in his eyes she didn’t care to define.
‘Is that any way to greet your husband?’ He lowered his head and closed his mouth over hers in a light, evocative kiss, lingered, then he took it deeper in a desperate need to feel her response.
Did she have any idea what he’d gone through in the last few hours? Petros’s call had shattered him, totally, then cold, hard anger set in as he swiftly organised his return to Sydney. Something that was achieved within minutes, then he’d simply walked out of a meeting, taken the car one of his colleagues immediately made available, and headed to the airport.
He made a few calls from his cellphone, called in favours, enlisted the services of the city’s top obstetrician, checked with the hospital, then he rang Celine.
His eyes hardened as he recalled her sickening coquetry, the shocked surprise, followed by consternation over the accusations he levelled at her. Then, when he left her in no doubt as to his intended action, there was anger and vitriol.
The hour’s flight had seemed like an eternity, and he’d instructed Petros to sit on the speed limit between the airport and hospital.
He already had the obstetrician’s report, but he desperately needed visual reassurance.
No one had halted his passage through Reception, nor did anyone query his presence as he bypassed the lift and took the stairs. At the first-floor nursing station the sister-in-charge opened her mouth in protest, then quickly closed it again as she witnessed the grim determination evident.
He didn’t pause when he reached Ana’s suite, and simply pushed open the door with clear disregard for a courtesy knock. And came to a halt at the sight of her propped against a bank of pillows.
Her head was turned slightly to one side, and her eyes were closed in sleep.
For a long moment he just stood there, drinking in her features in repose. It took tremendous will-power to restrain himself from crossing to the bed and lifting her into his arms.
He almost did, and would have if he thought the movement wouldn’t hurt her.
Instead, he’d settled himself in the chair and waited for her to wake.
‘Hmm,’ Ana murmured as his mouth left hers and trailed up to brush against her temple. ‘Nice.’
She could almost sense his smile, and a slow warmth heated her skin. This close she could breathe in the scent of him, the subtle cologne meshing with a male muskiness that was his alone.
He brushed his lips across her forehead, lingered, then pressed one eyelid closed before slipping down to the edge of her mouth.
She angled her head a little and parted her lips against his own in a kiss that promised, but didn’t take as it became frankly sensual, tasting, probing, then easing back to graze a little.
When at last he lifted his head she could only look at him in bemusement. ‘Maybe I should become a hospital patient more often.’
‘Not if I can help it.’
He looked gorgeous, so intensely male, so much a part of her. It seemed important to endorse the obstetrician’s reassurance. ‘The baby’s fine.’
Luc lifted a hand and brushed light fingers across her cheek. ‘What about you, agape mou?’ His hand moved to cup her chin, tilting it a little. ‘Want to tell me what happened this morning?’
Her gaze held his, clear and unblinking. ‘It’s over.’
‘Yes. It is.’ He traced the pad of one finger over her lower lip.
‘I have no doubt Petros has relayed his version.’
‘Indeed.’ He felt her mouth tremble, and his eyes darkened. ‘Rebekah, also.’ His hand slid round to cup her nape, gently massaging the back of her neck and into the base of her skull. ‘I can promise Celine will never get close to you again.’
It must be reaction, but there was something happening here…something deep and meaningful. Except it was just out of reach, and she couldn’t quite grasp hold of it.
He cared, without doubt. But was it merely fondness for someone he held in affectionate regard?
‘You’re the one she wants,’ Ana said simply. ‘And I’m in the way.’
‘The only one in the way is Celine.’ His voice held a dangerous quality.
The door swished open and a nurse collected the chart, then crossed to the bed to take Ana’s vital signs. Minutes later they were punctiliously recorded, and she left the suite to continue her round.
‘Is there anything you need?’
Oh, my, how did she answer that? She lifted a hand, then dropped it again, and shook her head. ‘Petros packed a few things and brought them in.’ She offered him a winsome smile. ‘He called me Ana for the first time ever.’
‘Quite an achievement.’ He skimmed a hand over her shoulder. ‘Are you in any pain?’
Not the physical kind. No matter how she attempted to understand Celine’s driven action, a lingering shock remained. She wasn’t concerned for herself, but her unborn child was something else.
She closed her eyes in the hope she could also close her mind to the woman’s vicious jealousy-motivated action.
‘Go home, Luc,’ she bade quietly.
‘Not a chance.’ He crossed to the chair and folded his length into it.
When next Ana looked he was still there, and she shook her head in silent remonstrance. Nursing staff came and went with monotonous regularity, and the arrival of the dinner trolley with an extra meal for Luc brought a further protest.
‘There’s no need f
or you to stay.’
‘Indulge me.’
This was too much. He was too much. ‘I haven’t heard your cellphone ring once.’
‘It’s turned off.’
The in-room television provided visual entertainment, and Luc finally conceded to leave long after visiting hours were over.
Ana was unaware of the private security guard posted in the corridor out of her sight, or that Luc had the nursing station on alert.
It was undoubtedly over the top, but he didn’t give a damn. No one toyed with him or one of his own without paying the price.
He reached his car, slid in behind the wheel, and eased it out from the hospital car park. There were other issues that were long overdue. Way overdue, he amended grimly.
First, he’d reorganise his business interests and take Ana to the beach house on the Central Coast.
Petros was hovering inside the door when Luc entered the house. ‘Ms Ana is well?’
‘Yes, thank God. She’ll be home tomorrow.’
‘Nasty business.’
Luc shot the older man a level glance. ‘It’s been taken care of.’
‘One would hope so.’
There was no need for further words. Luc’s influence was a known entity. As an enemy, he was deadly.
A slight smile tugged the edges of Luc’s mouth. ‘She told me you called her Ana.’ One eyebrow slanted. ‘Quite a departure from your usual formality.’
‘I shall see it doesn’t happen again.’
‘I imagine she’ll never let you forget it.’
Petros allowed himself a warm smile. ‘No, I don’t suppose she will.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE new day’s dawn brought a sense of new beginnings, and Ana rose early, showered and dressed, then participated in the morning’s hospital routine. The obstetrician called in, she ate a healthy breakfast, then she dealt with the discharge process prior to Luc’s arrival at nine to take her home.
Petros emerged from the front door as Luc’s Mercedes drew to a halt beneath the wide portico, and he opened the passenger door as Luc slid out from behind the wheel.
‘It’s good to have you home, Ms—’
‘Ana,’ she interrupted firmly, the glint in her eyes fearsome. ‘If you dare call me anything else, I’ll hit you.’
‘Very well.’
She looked at him in silent askance.
‘Ms—’
‘Just…Ana,’ she said gently.
‘You’ve lost that particular skirmish,’ Luc declared as he preceded Petros indoors, and the older man hid a faint smile.
‘So it would appear.’
‘Everything is in order?’
Petros inclined his head. ‘All that remains is for Ana to pack a bag.’
She paused mid-stride at the foot of the stairs. ‘What do you mean, pack?’
Luc curved an arm along the back of her waist and urged her towards the upper floor. ‘We’re spending a few days at the beach house.’
‘Don’t you have to go into the office?’
‘The world won’t stop if I’m not there.’
No, it wouldn’t. But Luc was a man who kept a constant eye on the business ball.
They reached the bedroom, and she surveyed the large suite, appreciating its familiarity. Two bags reposed on the long stand at the foot of the bed. One closed, the other empty. His laptop rested on the floor.
Luc turned her into his arms and lowered his head down to hers. His mouth was incredibly gentle as it brushed her own, and she linked both hands at his nape to hold him there as she deepened the kiss.
His hands shifted, one slipping down to cup her bottom while the other slid up to fist her hair.
Dear heaven, she needed this. The feel of him, his touch, his male scent, and the warmth and heat of his embrace.
A faint groan rose and died in her throat as he trailed a path along the edge of her jaw to linger close to the sensitive hollow beneath her earlobe, then he followed the cord at the edge of her neck and nuzzled there before slipping down to savour the delicate arch of her throat.
With obvious reluctance he eased back and pressed a light kiss to the edge of her mouth. His heart beat in tune with her own, heavy and fast.
‘Go pack, pedhi mou. Otherwise we won’t be heading anywhere soon.’
It didn’t help that he was right, although she conceded they had time ahead of them. Consequently she slipped out of his arms and collected a few clothes together, then she followed Luc down to the car.
In less than an hour they reached the beach house. Although beach house was hardly an adequate description for the delightful double-storeyed home built only metres from the sandy foreshore. The external walls comprised tempered tinted glass, and palm trees and shrubbery lent privacy whilst providing tranquil views out over the ocean.
Petros had rung ahead, for there were provisions in the pantry, fresh milk and juice in the refrigerator, and the house was spotlessly clean.
Ana crossed the lounge and stood close to the huge expanse of glass, drinking in the deep blue waters of the Pacific Ocean, clear today of any craft. She could almost smell the salt-spray and feel the crunch of sand beneath her feet.
‘Feel like a walk along the beach?’
She turned and took hold of Luc’s outstretched hand, then together they left the house and took the short path through the palm trees and planted shrubbery to the bank of white sand leading down to the water.
It was a beautiful day, warm with brilliant sunshine and hardly a cloud in the sky.
The gently curved cove appeared isolated, and Ana had the uncanny feeling they could have been alone in the world.
They strolled down to where the sand was packed and damp from an outgoing tide, then they followed the tide-line towards an outcrop of rocks in the distance.
There were questions she wanted to ask, but she was hesitant to begin, and unsure if his answers would be what she wanted to hear.
So much had happened in the past few months. So many misunderstandings and misconceptions. Untruths and false accusations.
One could never go back, she reflected sadly, or undo the things said and done. There was only one direction, and that was forward. Yet some things in the past could affect the future if they weren’t confronted and resolved. For only then was it possible to move on.
And one of those things in the immediate past was Celine.
Perhaps she could begin there.
‘Did Celine mean anything to you?’ Nothing like taking the bull by the horns!
Luc stopped walking and turned towards her. His eyes were dark, and she could almost sense the latent anger that simmered beneath the surface of his control.
‘No. We shared a brief relationship several years ago,’ he reiterated quietly. ‘She wanted marriage, I didn’t. I moved on, and she married someone else.’
‘Yet you continued to see each other,’ Ana pursued, and glimpsed a muscle tense at the edge of his jaw.
‘We lived in the same city, moved in the same social circle.’ His expression assumed wry cynicism. ‘We observed a state of polite civility.’
‘Until her divorce.’
He slid his hands up her arms to cradle her shoulders. ‘After her divorce,’ he corrected. ‘Why would I want to have anything to do with another woman, when I have you?’
Something stirred deep inside and began to unfurl. Hope. Dared she begin to hope?
‘She embarked on a relentless campaign,’ Ana ventured, holding his gaze.
‘I’ve initiated legal action against her.’ His hands slid up to cup her face. ‘She’ll pay, and pay dearly. If she has any sense, she’ll relocate to another city. Preferably another country.’
As an enemy, he was ruthless. ‘I see.’
‘Do you, Ana?’ His eyes searched hers, dark with passion and another emotion she couldn’t define.
‘Emma—’
He placed a finger to her lips, closing them. ‘Emma was my youth,’ he said gently. ‘I mourned her l
oss. Not so much for myself, but for the too short a time she spent on this earth.’ His mouth curved into a warm smile. ‘She was sunshine, laughter, and she was my best friend.’ He traced the outline of her lower lip. ‘But she could never be you.’
She felt her bones begin to melt, and her eyes seemed to ache with suppressed emotion.
‘You stole my heart, and captured my soul.’
She almost swayed on her feet. Was he saying he loved her?
‘Luc—’
He didn’t let her finish. ‘You’re my life, my love. Everything.’
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she blinked rapidly to stem their flow. Except one spilled over and trickled slowly down her cheek.
He followed the trail with the pad of his thumb, and his smile was almost her undoing.
‘How could you not know, agape mou? Each time I held you in my arms, whenever we made love? Didn’t you feel it in the beat of my heart, my touch?’
Oh, God, she was going to cry. ‘You never said the words.’
‘I’m going to have to teach you Greek.’
‘I thought—’
He gave her a gentle shake. ‘I married you for the convenience of having a woman in my bed, a social hostess?’ His eyes became dark. ‘If that’s all I wanted, I would have remarried years ago.’
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
‘I love you, Ana. Love. The till death us do part kind. Without you, I wouldn’t want to live.’
She wasn’t capable of saying a word. All this time she’d thought affection was the foundation of their marriage. Now she was filled with a wondrous disbelief.
‘Celine worked her poison with diabolical success,’ Luc continued. ‘Worse, you chose to believe her, and nothing I said seemed to convince you otherwise.’
Diabolical success? Yes, it had been that. Celine had known which buttons to push and how to screw each one of them down.
‘When you left for the Coast, I thought a few days might help you reflect and gain some perspective. Instead, it merely worked against me.’
He shaped her cheek, and let his thumb slip down to linger at the edge of her mouth. ‘Do you have any idea how terrified I was of losing you?’
The Helen Bianchin Collection Page 150