The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  ‘Let’s go,’ Suzanne declared decisively. ‘Maybe we can fit in a set of tennis before dinner.’

  His gaze was far too discerning. ‘With the intention of wearing yourself out?’

  How could she say she wanted to collapse into bed, too tired to do anything but sleep, instead of lying awake for most of the night cautioning herself not to toss or turn in case the movement disturbed the man occupying the large bed a short distance from her own?

  ‘I might even permit you to win,’ she said lightly. Some chance. He had the height, the strength, the experience to trounce her off the court!

  Sloane’s husky chuckle set the nerves in her stomach into action, and he slid on his sunglasses, then extended his hand.

  Suzanne hesitated fractionally, then threaded slender fingers through his own.

  They crossed to a sandy path that curved through increasingly dense rainforest, and initiated a leisurely pace. Sunlight filtered between wide-branched trees, lowering the warm temperature by several degrees.

  There had to be a variety of tropical insects, but none was immediately evident. It was so quiet. Peaceful. Almost idyllic. A wonderful place to get away from it all.

  If only... She stopped the traitorous thought right there. Life was crowded with ‘if only’s and ‘what if?’s. And in the weeks since she’d moved out of Sloane’s apartment she’d covered a plethora of each.

  Silence allowed for too much introspection, and she sought a temporary distraction.

  ‘Word has it you’ll win a large settlement in the Allenberg trial.’

  Sloane had a reputation for scrupulous research and meticulous attention to detail. He enjoyed pitting his skill in the court arena, and was known to accept difficult and complex cases for the mental challenge rather than his barrister’s fee.

  ‘Interesting.’

  Now there was an ambiguous statement if ever there was one. Interesting that she’d mentioned the brief? Or interesting that she’d opted to veer away from anything personal by way of conversation?

  She looked at him carefully. ‘You have doubts?’

  The path levelled out and began following the shoreline. Leading, she suspected, in a meandering fashion back to the main complex.

  ‘I never discount the element of surprise.’

  Suzanne had the strangest feeling he wasn’t referring to the brief. ‘I imagine you’ve covered all the angles.’ Impossible that he hadn’t.

  He spared her a penetrating glance, then lightened it with a faint smile. ‘It’s to be hoped so.’

  There was a sense of isolation in the stillness surrounding them. Possible almost to believe they were the only inhabitants on the island.

  It was comforting to know that staff and civilisation lay within a short distance. Trenton and Georgia were also in residence, and tomorrow the guests would arrive.

  People, in this resort deliberately designed for solitude, would be a welcome advantage, Suzanne determined. It meant there would be plenty of opportunity to socialise, and less time spent alone with Sloane.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE path was clear, but not well trodden, and Suzanne suspected it was deliberately kept that way by the resort management to provide the ambience of lush rainforest.

  Sloane walked at her side, matching his stride to her own. How long would it take them to reach the main complex? Ten minutes? Longer? A lot depended on how the path was structured. The trip would be leisurely, she imagined, if the upward slant and winding curves were anything to go by.

  ‘It probably would have been quicker to go back via the beach,’ Suzanne offered, and he projected an indolent smile.

  ‘At least this way we don’t have to traverse a collection of boulders and rocks.’

  She met his gaze with equanimity. ‘They were relatively easy to navigate.’

  He tipped his head and allowed his sunglasses to slip fractionally down the slope of his nose. One eyebrow lifted as he regarded her with a degree of quizzical humour. ‘Yet you slipped and injured yourself.’

  ‘It’s the effect you have on people,’ she declared with wicked mockery.

  ‘People?’

  ‘They either covet your company or choose to avoid it.’

  ‘That’s a particularly basic observation,’ he said lazily. ‘Would you care to elaborate?’

  Her response was a succinct negative, and a husky chuckle emerged from his throat as she quickened her pace to step ahead of him.

  The trees provided excellent shade, and did much to reduce the sun’s heat. It was a lovely day, a beautiful island, and given different circumstances she would have considered herself in seventh heaven to be here alone with Sloane.

  ‘Suppose you enlighten me as to precisely which verbal exchange, if not by whom, caused you so much grief?’

  She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. ‘You don’t give up, do you?’

  ‘No.’

  Whatever had made her think that he would? ‘There’s no point.’

  ‘I beg to differ.’

  She was mercilessly vengeful. ‘I wasn’t born into the social hierarchy.’ She held up one hand, fingers extended, ready to provide a graphic example by ticking off each one as she cited the given reasons. ‘No private schooling. At least, not at one of the few élite establishments. My mother still works, would you believe?’ She was on a roll. ‘How could someone like me dare to think she could compete with the crème de la crème of Sydney’s society? For you to have a fling with me was quite acceptable, but marriage? Never.’

  It was impossible to gauge anything from his expression. Dammit, didn’t he care how each criticism had been like a finely honed barb that had speared through her heart? Why didn’t he say anything?

  ‘Your response was no doubt interesting.’

  His drawled amusement set her teeth on edge, and she glared at him balefully when he brushed his knuckles across one cheekbone.

  ‘I took the line of least resistance, smiled sweetly and assured her you kept me because I was incredibly good in bed.’

  It was he who possessed incredible skill, she who became a willing wanton at his slightest touch.

  ‘And the rest of it?’

  ‘What makes you think there’s more?’

  ‘I can’t imagine you taking notice of a few bitchy remarks.’

  Verbal threats hadn’t worried her. Written missives were something else entirely.

  ‘I received an anonymous note in the mail.’

  His eyes sharpened, and there was a still quality about him she found disquieting. ‘What type of note?’

  ‘Plain paper with an assemblage of cut-out letters from various news publications.’

  ‘Pasted together and worded to say?’

  ‘I had two days to get out of your life.’ Even now she could recall it so vividly.

  ‘Or?’

  ‘I would be sorry.’

  A muscle bunched at the edge of his jaw, and a string of pithy oaths escaped in husky condemnation. ‘Why in hell didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Because I didn’t take it seriously.’

  He barely restrained himself from shaking her. ‘Something obviously occurred to persuade you otherwise?’

  A few isolated incidents which had at first seemed coincidental. Except for one. And her mistake had been an attempt to deal with it herself.

  ‘Suzanne.’ Sloane’s voice was too quiet. Ominous. She suppressed a shiver, and held his gaze. ‘I was driving home after work, and someone tried to run me off the road, then demonstrated very graphically that the next time I wouldn’t be so fortunate.’ She paused, and drew in a deep breath. ‘It was followed by a personal confrontation demanding I get out of your life.’

  ‘Why in hell didn’t you tell me?’

  She didn’t flinch at the icy viciousness of his tone. ‘You were away at the time.’

  He was hard-pressed not to shake her within an inch of her life. ‘That shouldn’t have stopped you.’

  Her eyes assumed an angry s
parkle. ‘And what could you have done?’

  ‘Taken the next flight back.’

  Knowing the importance of his London-based client and the seriousness of the case...

  ‘Believe it,’ Sloane assured her inflexibly.

  ‘I dealt with it myself.’

  ‘How, precisely?’

  ‘Assuring her a full report would be lodged with the police and followed by legal action if I ever heard from her again.’ Her eyes were dark crystalline sapphire, her features pale. ‘Or if another suspicious accident should eventuate.’

  And removing herself from his apartment, and to all intents and purposes from his life. Choosing not to confide in him, or seek external help. The silent rage deep within him intensified. Putting him through hell, not to mention herself.

  Now, there was only one question.

  ‘Who?’ His tone hadn’t altered, but she recognised the anger beneath the surface. And his immense effort to control it.

  ‘It’s my decision not to name her.’

  His eyes held a ruthlessness that was frightening. Merciless, almost brutal with intent. ‘It isn’t your decision to make.’

  He was a formidable force, but she refused to back down. ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘You’re aware I can override you? Initiate enquiries, and eventually obtain the answer I need?’

  Her gaze didn’t falter. ‘To what end? What charges can you lay? I wasn’t molested, or hurt.’ Just very badly shaken by a vindictive woman who should have been seeking professional help for a sick obsession.

  ‘Harassment constitutes a threat that, proven, is punishable by law.’ His eyes were so dark they resembled obsidian shards.

  ‘I’m as much aware of that as you are.’ Her resolve was determined. ‘Her father has a very high profile which would be irreparably damaged should this come out. It’s out of my respect for him that I’ve chosen to keep quiet.’

  He held onto control by a bare thread, and wondered if she knew just how close he was to full-blown anger. Twelve inches less in height and half his weight didn’t diminish her stance in comparison to his own. Nor did she reflect any fear. Just steadfast intent that would be difficult to bend. But not impossible.

  ‘You disappoint me.’

  She was already ahead of him, for she’d had weeks to prepare for this moment. ‘A psychological shift into skilled tactician mode, Sloane?’ Her chin tilted fractionally. ‘Don’t waste your time. Or attempt to persuade me that love conquers all. We’re heavily into reality, not fantasy. That combination is immiscible.’

  ‘You want reality, Suzanne?’

  His head lowered down to hers, his breath warm as it fanned her lips before his mouth settled over hers in a kiss that tore at the foundations of her being.

  In an imitation of the sexual act itself, his tongue teased hers in a mating dance so evocatively persuasive that her bones seemed to liquefy, and she lifted her arms and held on as her body instinctively arched into his.

  One arm curved across her back, while a hand tangled in her hair, holding her head fast as he deepened the kiss into something so incredibly erotic she lost track of time and place.

  Her skin felt alive, each sensory nerve-ending so acutely attuned to this one man’s touch that she groaned out loud as one hand cupped her bottom and he lifted her up against his body so that his mouth could pay homage to the slope of her neck, the soft hollows at the base of her throat, before tracing a path to the delicate curve of her breast.

  She was incapable of offering any protest as he pulled up her top and undid the clip fastening of her bikini bra, nor when he pushed the thin Lycra aside and sought one rosy peak, taking it into his mouth and suckling it until she cried out at the wealth of sensation that swept through her body.

  It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. And her hands clung to his deeply muscled shoulders, then slid down his chest in a tactile exploration of the dark whorls of hair stretching from one male nipple to the other.

  She felt the flex of sinew beneath the pads of her fingers as she slid her hands over his ribcage to the back of his waist, slipped beneath the elasticated band of his shorts, then curved low over tensely muscled buttocks to hold him close.

  His arousal was a potent entity, a powerfully male shaft pressing against the softness of her belly.

  An anguished moan escaped her lips as his hand slid beneath her shorts and bikini briefs and teased the soft curling hair at the apex of her thighs, and she cried out as he sought and found the damp folds guarding entrance to her feminine core.

  A touch was all it took. His touch. And she climbed a mental wall as he stroked the highly sensitised folds, sending her mindless with a desire so strong it was almost too much to bear.

  Her whole body seemed to throb as acute sensation took possession of every nerve-ending, and the blood pulsed through her veins to a quickened beat as awareness transcended onto a higher plane.

  Sloane knew he could take her now, here, and she wouldn’t stop him. It would be so easy, the act so primal, so intensely satisfying, it took all his strength not to take the final step that would make it happen.

  He felt the damp heat of her climax, exulted in her soft, throaty cries, the warm savagery of her mouth on his as she lost herself to him with stunning completeness.

  Slowly, gradually, Suzanne became aware of where she was and with whom. And what had almost transpired.

  Warmth coloured her cheeks, and he watched as her eyes darkened, then became shadowed as long lashes swept down to form a protective veil.

  She didn’t struggle as he allowed her to slip down to her feet, and he saw a lump form and rise in her throat, only to fall as her mouth worked silently in an effort to form a few words.

  ‘Don’t,’ Sloane cautioned gently, and pressed a forefinger to her lips. ‘What we share is more powerful than mere sexual gratification.’ His eyes darkened, and became almost black. ‘That is the reality I have no intention of abandoning.’ His finger slid to the corner of her mouth, then traced the curve of her jaw.

  He smiled, a soft, slightly humorous, warm curve of his mouth that melted every bone in her body. ‘Until the day you can look at me and say the love isn’t there any more. Then...’ he paused, and depressed her lower lip with one forefinger ‘...I might listen to you.’

  Suzanne felt as ambivalent as a feather floating in a fragile breeze. Surely he didn’t—couldn’t be implying what she thought he meant?

  ‘Shall we head back?’

  Her lips parted, then closed again. ‘Sloane, I don’t think—’

  ‘You want to stay here?’

  Oh, God, no. She didn’t dare. To risk a repeat of the past—how long? Ten, twenty minutes? A slight shiver shook her slim shoulders as she remembered with vivid clarity just how deep her involvement had been.

  Total wipe-out, she accorded silently. If she allowed him to kiss, touch her again, she would be reduced to begging for the wildness of total consummation. And that was a divine madness she could ill afford if she was to walk away from this weekend with her dignity intact.

  Sloane watched the fleeting emotions chase across her expressive features, and interpreted each and every one of them.

  He extended his hand, and she took it, all too aware of the way he curled her fingers within the enveloping warmth of his own.

  They followed the path along its winding curve through the rainforest until it took a steady downward slant to the beach adjacent to the main complex. Their conversation was, as if by tacit consent, confined to inconsequential subjects unrelated to family or anything personal.

  It was, Suzanne determined from a quick glance at her watch, almost five. Allowing thirty minutes to shower and wash her hair, then dress for dinner, she had half an hour to spare.

  ‘Want to try out the pool?’

  Had he guessed she was hesitant to return to their villa? Determined the reason why?

  Tension created knots inside her stomach, and a tiny bubble of faintly hysterical laughter rose in her throa
t. She was fast becoming an emotional mess. A wicked irony considering she was almost entirely to blame.

  It was the almost part that bothered her most. Sloane’s participation couldn’t be ignored, and she could only wonder why. The convenience of casual sex for old times’ sake? An attempt to show her what she was missing?

  Somehow neither reason seemed to fit the man, and introspection didn’t help at all.

  Suzanne turned towards Sloane with a brilliant smile. ‘Why not?’ Suiting words to action, she moved towards the tiled surround area bordering the pool, shrugged off her shirt and shorts, and executed a neat dive.

  The water was deliciously cool, and she stroked several lengths with leisurely ease before turning onto her back and allowing her body to float at will.

  She could close her eyes and shut out the world. It was so quiet, it was almost possible to believe that everything was right, and here on this idyllic island they were inviolate from the pressures of business and social obligations. No one could get to them, unless they chose to allow it. Paradise, she mused.

  A splash sounded loud in the stillness, and seconds later a dark head surfaced a short distance from her own.

  ‘Sleeping in water isn’t a good idea,’ Sloane drawled, flicking cool, salty droplets onto her midriff.

  ‘I wasn’t asleep.’

  ‘First one out gets exclusive use of the shower.’ He lifted a hand and trailed idle fingers across her cheek. ‘Unless you feel inclined to share?’

  Heat suffused her body and pooled deep within, a sensual flaring over which she had no control.

  Suzanne caught his dark, gleaming gaze, glimpsed the faint curl of humour tilt the edge of his mouth. Dammit, he was enjoying this.

  She offered him a languid smile. ‘Do I get a head start?’

  His mouth widened and showed his even white teeth. ‘I’m feeling generous.’

  She jackknifed into racing position. ‘First one out, huh?’

  She was a strong swimmer, but Sloane had the superior advantage of height and male power. They reached the pool’s tiled edge together, and in one synchronised movement levered themselves up onto its perimeter.

  ‘A perfect finish,’ Sloane accorded with indolent amusement as he rose to his feet, watching as she smoothed back the streaming length of her hair while matching her movements with his own.