He pushed his entrée plate to one side and leaned back in his chair. ‘Paris.’
The city of love. The Arc de Triomphe, Champs Elysées, the Eiffel Tower, the Left Bank and the River Seine. Misty grey skies, drizzling rain, the cold. But the ambience…
Anneke stifled a sigh. ‘You have family there?’
‘Grandmère.’ His expression softened, his mouth relaxed and his eyes held reflective warmth. ‘Her eightieth birthday falls on Christmas Day.’
She could imagine the gathering, and felt vaguely envious. To be involved, to be part of it… The laughter, love. Gifts and giving.
‘When do you fly out?’
‘Friday week.’
A lump settled inside her stomach. In eight days he would leave, and when he returned she’d be gone.
The waiter appeared with their main course, and she viewed the grilled sea perch with its artistically displayed vegetables with perfunctory interest. All of a sudden her appetite seemed to have fled.
How long had she known this man? A week? Yet, while his presence had alternately annoyed and inflamed her, there was a pull of the senses, almost as if something was exigent, forcing recognition on some deep, primal level.
There was a part of her that urged compliance, a devilish spontaneity uncaring of anything except now.
And that was dangerous. Infinitely dangerous. Somehow she couldn’t imagine it being easy to sample what Sebastian Lanier had to offer, then calmly turn and walk away.
It was better, far better not to engage in anything at all. Besides, what could happen in a week?
Anneke picked at the fish, sampled each of the vegetables, returned to the fish, then replaced her cutlery down onto the plate.
‘The fish isn’t to your liking?’
She glanced up and met Sebastian’s perceptive gaze. ‘No, it’s fine. I’m just not that hungry.’
He speared a small scallop from his plate and held it temptingly close to her mouth. ‘Try this. It’s perfection.’
There was an implied intimacy in the gesture, and her eyes widened slightly, then stilled as she was held mesmerised by the sensual warmth apparent in the dark grey eyes of the man seated opposite.
Anneke felt as if she was damned if she took the morsel, and equally damned if she didn’t.
‘It’s easy,’ Sebastian said gently. ‘Just open your mouth.’
She hesitated another second, then leant forward and took the scallop from his fork with her teeth.
Act, a tiny voice prompted. ‘Superb texture,’ she commented, and glimpsed the latent humour apparent.
‘More?’ The query was a soft, sensual drawl, and she shook her head as she reached for her glass.
What was the matter with her? Even the champagne tasted different.
The waiter appeared and removed both plates, queried their preference for tea or coffee.
‘Tea—Earl Grey,’ Anneke qualified, while Sebastian chose black coffee.
There was music, and a small dance floor, with two couples moving together as a slow ballad emitted from strategically placed speakers.
‘Dance with me.’
She looked at him carefully, and knew she should refuse. There was something evident in his expression she couldn’t quite define. Sensuality, intoxicating and mesmeric. Bewitching chemistry at its zenith.
Anneke gathered her napkin and placed it on the table, then stood to her feet and allowed Sebastian to lead her to the dance floor.
He caught her close with natural ease, his steps fluid as he led her slowly round the small square.
She could close her eyes and pretend there was no one else around. Slide her hands up over his shoulders and link them together at his nape. Undo the leather clasp that bound his hair, then thread her fingers at will through its length.
The image remained with her of how he’d looked the first night she’d caught sight of him in her aunt’s kitchen. A five o’clock shadow that had deepened into dark stubble, his hair loose and tousled. Even then she’d thought him lethal. Shameless, when he’d captured her head and bestowed a plundering kiss.
One ballad led on to another, and it was more than five minutes before the pace changed to something upbeat.
Sebastian led her back to the table. ‘More tea?’
‘No.’ It was after ten. They’d eaten a leisurely meal, enjoyed a dance. There was no reason to linger. ‘Would you mind if we leave?’
Sebastian settled the bill, and they walked to the car park. Within minutes the Range Rover eased its way onto the road, then picked up speed as they left the town behind.
Headlights shone twin beams into the encroaching darkness, and Anneke leaned her head back and focused on the road.
At this time of night there wasn’t much traffic, and all too soon Sebastian reached the turn-off leading down to both cottages.
Anneke reached for the door-clasp as soon as he switched off the engine.
‘Come in and share a drink with me.’
Every nerve in her body screamed an emphatic no. ‘It’s late, and I’m tired.’ Did she sound as breathless as she felt? Dear heaven, she hoped not!
He caught hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘You can sleep in tomorrow.’
‘Sebastian—’
He stilled her voice by the simple expediency of pressing a hand over her mouth. ‘Anneke.’ His voice held a teasing quality. ‘Are you afraid of me?’
She hesitated a fraction too long. ‘No, of course not.’
His smile was warm and infinitely sensual. ‘Then come share a coffee with me.’
Ten minutes, she compromised. She’d drink the coffee, then she’d go home.
Shaef greeted them at the door with restrained delight, and sank down at Anneke’s feet as she chose the informality of the kitchen in preference to the lounge.
Sebastian shrugged off his jacket and discarded his tie, then he crossed to the sink and filled the coffee-maker with water, ground fresh beans and spooned them into the filter, then depressed the switch. ‘Milk or cream?’ He crossed to a cupboard and extracted two cups and saucers.
‘Milk.’
He opened the refrigerator door, and she saw what looked suspiciously like her bombe au chocolat. Beside it was the sponge stuffed with strawberries and cream.
‘You should throw them out.’
He shot her an amused glance. ‘Not yet. I like to look at them.’
Her voice came out as a strangled sound. ‘Why?’
He extracted a carton of milk and closed the refrigerator door. ‘Because it reminds me of how much trouble you went to trying to kill me with indigestion.’
Of course he knew. How could he not?
‘I was intrigued to know what you’d dream up to serve me next.’
The coffeemaker completed its cycle, and Sebastian took hold of the carafe and filled both cups.
‘It was a challenge,’ she conceded with a tinge of humour. She spooned in sugar, stirred, then sipped the contents. ‘I owe you a meal. A decent one,’ she qualified.
‘An attempt to redeem yourself?’
‘I’ll go one better,’ she said solemnly. ‘Give me a menu, and I’ll prepare the food. Do you prefer vegetables or salad?’
‘Vegetables. Buttered baby potatoes in their jackets, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, honeyed carrots.’
‘Dessert?’
‘You.’
Anneke’s eyes flew wide. ‘Sorry, I don’t decorate body parts. Suggest something more conventional.’
He replaced his cup, removed hers, then captured her hands and pulled her towards him. ‘Will this do?’
She didn’t have a chance to answer. His mouth closed over hers in a gentle exploration that melted her bones.
Hands moulded her close as he deepened the kiss, and she opened her mouth to him, slid the tip of her tongue beneath the hardness of his own, and felt his breath catch.
Anneke wasn’t quite ready for the long, sweeping response as he took her from pleasure to possessi
on, then staked a claim.
It was all she could do to hang on and ride the storm of his passion.
No one had kissed her with quite this degree of hunger, and her whole body throbbed beneath his explosive touch as he began a trail of discovery of each and every pleasure pulse.
His mouth left hers and sought the vulnerable column of her throat, the delicate hollow, the edge of her neck, before slipping low to the soft curve of her breast.
Somehow the zip fastening at the back of her dress slid free, and the tiny shoestring straps were eased over each shoulder.
An indistinguishable moan died in her throat as deft fingers teased a sensitive peak to hardness, then rendered a similar supplication to its twin.
He took her to the brink between pleasure and pain, then trailed his mouth down to suckle each tender nub until she moved restlessly against him.
It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, and a soundless gasp escaped her lips as one hand slid to the apex between her thighs, teased the thin silk barrier of her briefs, only to retreat.
Anneke whimpered in protest, then she caught hold of his head and brought his mouth to her own in fierce possession, testing his control.
She’d thought to delight in his loss of it, but nothing prepared her for the deep, penetrating invasion that took hold of her emotions and tossed them high.
Her hands reached for his shoulders and she simply clung to him until the storm inside began to diminish. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lightened the kiss until his lips merely brushed against her own, then he linked his arms at the base of her spine.
His eyes were dark, so dark they were almost black, and there was a waiting quality evident beneath the sensual warmth.
The next move was hers. He was giving her the option to move away from him, say any words by way of excuse, then leave.
If she stayed, it would be because she wanted to, not due to any unfair persuasion on his part.
Indecision warred temporarily as she fought desire with sanity.
How could you know a man for months, a year, longer, yet not really know him at all? Then meet another, and see almost at once the heart of the man beneath the many layers fashioned by time and experience?
She could turn away and never know the joy he offered, or the depth of emotion they could share. Yet what was the price she might have to pay?
Sadly, she had the feeling it would be way too high.
‘I think I’d better go.’
Sebastian leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead. ‘I could tell you not to think. Just to feel.’
She lifted her head and met his steady gaze. There was a depth apparent that frightened her. Not out of a sense of threat, but something she was too afraid to define.
‘I know.’ Her voice came out as a husky whisper. She even managed a shaky smile. ‘But you won’t.’
He let his arms fall to his sides, and watched the fleeting emotions chase across her expressive features.
Then he watched as she took a backward step, then turned and walked to the door.
‘Be ready at nine.’
Her hand froze as she reached for the latch, and she cast him a startled glance over one shoulder.
‘Our picnic, remember?’ A slow smile spread his mouth. ‘I’ll organise the food.’
Anneke recovered quickly. ‘Nine.’ Then she opened the door and closed it quietly behind her.
She’d left a light on inside her aunt’s cottage, and it provided a welcoming glow as she crossed the path.
Sleep didn’t come easily. Nor did peace of mind. But then she hadn’t expected it to.
CHAPTER NINE
ANNEKE woke at dawn, opened one eye, groaned, then rolled over and tried to capture sleep. Two hours would be great, but she’d settle for one.
Ten minutes later she gave up on it and slid out of bed. An early-morning swim, then she’d shower, have breakfast, and package the small Christmas cakes designated as gifts ready to consign to the postal services tomorrow.
She expected to see Sebastian on the beach, but he was nowhere in sight. She ran the length of the cove, then stripped down to her swimsuit for a leisurely swim.
It was almost eight-thirty when Aunt Vivienne rang to report that Elise was progressing so well the doctors were confident she’d go close to full term.
‘How are you getting on with Sebastian, Anneke?’
Oh, my, now there was a question! What would her kindly aunt think if Anneke went with total honesty and said she was on the verge of going to bed with him?
‘Fine.’ That covered a multitude of contingencies.
‘Why don’t you fly up and join us for Christmas, darling? I know Sebastian is going to Paris, and I don’t like to think of you at the cottage alone.’
‘That’s thoughtful of you,’ Anneke declared warmly, grateful for the option of spending the festive season with family.
It was almost nine when she smoothed a hand down the seam of her designer jeans, then slid nervous fingers along the ribbed hem of the skinny top she’d chosen to wear.
A knock on the door heralded Sebastian’s arrival, and she caught hold of her bag, collected her sunglasses, then crossed to open the kitchen door.
Clad in dark blue jeans and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled part-way up each forearm, he looked far too vibrant for any girl’s peace of mind.
‘Good morning.’
Sunglasses made it impossible for her to detect his expression, and she matched his smile with one of her own.
Sebastian headed the Range Rover north when they reached the open highway.
‘Where are we going?’
‘The Gold Coast hinterland. Lamington National Park, O’Reilly’s.’ He spared her a warm glance. ‘We’ll feed the lorikeets, have lunch, then maybe head down to Surfers Paradise for an hour or two.’
The sun was hot, tempered by a slight breeze, and Anneke was delighted by the friendly lorikeets. Feeding time was something else as the brightly coloured green and red plumed parrots settled on her arms then walked up onto her shoulders. Some even settled on her head, and she laughed when one became over-curious with the band confining her hair. His claws became tangled in the single thick plait, and his squawking brought Sebastian to the rescue.
‘Hold still.’
‘Believe me, I wouldn’t think of doing anything else,’ she assured him as he moved in close.
Too close. She was intensely aware of his shirt-clad chest and shoulders only mere inches from her cheek. Clean fabric mingled with the faint musky tones of his aftershave, and played havoc with her senses.
‘He won’t hurt you,’ Sebastian murmured. ‘He’s just frightened.’
That makes two of us. But it wasn’t the parrot she was afraid of.
‘There,’ Sebastian reassured. ‘He’s free.’ He caught hold of her chin and lifted it. ‘His claws didn’t scratch you?’
‘No.’ Her mouth was inches away from his, and she had to control the temptation to reach up and pull his head down to hers.
‘Hungry?’
‘Yes.’ It was true. The mountain air had given her an appetite.
‘Come on, then.’ He caught hold of her hand and tugged her towards the path leading to where the land cruiser was parked.
Sebastian unlocked the rear door and opened up a portable cooler.’ Voilà.’
There were fresh steaks, crisp lettuce, fresh fruit, mineral water and a bottle of wine.
‘You came prepared.’
His eyes challenged hers. ‘Always.’
She doubted if anyone had managed to gain the element of surprise with this man. He was intensely vital, acutely alert, and far too discerning to be caught unawares.
Gas-fired barbecues were positioned at intervals on a grassed area adjacent the car park, and there were tables with fixed umbrellas to shade picnic-makers from the sun.
Sebastian took hold of the cooler. ‘Let’s grab a niche over there. I’ll cook the steaks while you mix the salad.’
/> They drank a glass of superb Lambrusco with their meal, and washed the fruit down with mineral water.
Anneke rose to her feet and stacked plates and cutlery into a plastic bag ready to place in the cooler.
‘Feeling energetic?’
She lifted both shoulders in a light shrugging gesture. ‘Not particularly.’
So she hadn’t slept much either. After an hour of tossing and turning, he’d pulled on a pair of jeans, booted up the computer and worked until three.
He collected the cooler and stored it in the rear of the Range Rover. ‘Then let’s head down to the Coast.’
More than an hour later they were seated at one of many tables overlooking the broadwater, savouring cappuccinos. It was a relaxed atmosphere, with numerous people wandering the boardwalk, admiring the many craft moored at the adjacent marina.
The physique, the hair, the dark, attractive features earned Sebastian more than a few covetous glances from the women who passed by their table.
‘Oh, my,’ Anneke declared, sotto voce. ‘I think you have made a conquest. That’s the second time one particular blonde has walked this way. Perhaps I should go powder my nose and leave a clear field?’
‘Do that, and I’ll take evasive action,’ Sebastian drawled.
‘You’ll go powder your nose?’
He tipped his sunglasses further down his nose and speared her a level look over the rims. ‘Kiss you in such a manner there’ll be no doubt you are my only interest.’
‘Wouldn’t you be taking an enormous risk?’ Anneke queried sweetly. ‘I might push you over the railing into the water.’
‘Then we’d both look foolish,’ he intoned lazily as he leaned forward and trailed light fingers down her cheek.
Her eyes dilated fractionally at his featherlight touch, and her lips quivered as he traced their fullness with his thumb.
‘You’ve been treading on eggshells all day,’ he said gently. ‘Waiting for me to pounce?’
She held his gaze. ‘I think you have a strategy,’ she said with innate honesty. ‘I just need to figure out which ploy you intend to use.’
Sebastian laughed, a soft, chuckling sound deep in his throat. He stood to his feet, anchored a ten-dollar bill beneath one saucer, then reached for her hand. ‘Come on, let’s walk.’
The Helen Bianchin Collection Page 212