The Seduction Season

by Helen Bianchin

  She let her fingers trail up over his ribcage to the dark smattering of hair on his chest. Hair that was light and springy, and different in texture from the glossy length he wore bound at his nape.

  More than anything she wanted to explore the angles and planes of his sculpted features, the chiselled cheekbones, the hard jaw, the sensitive lines of his mouth.

  Most of all she wanted to wake him. To feel again the power of his body as he joined it with hers. The acutely intense spiral of sensation that mixed pleasure with pain, then transcended both to rapturous ecstasy.

  He’d shown her remarkable tendresse. Now she wanted his passion, unbridled, shameless and primitive.

  A hand reached for hers, caught it, and brought it to his lips. Her heart almost stopped, then quickened to a faster beat as she raised her head and met a pair of dark eyes lambent with molten desire.

  ‘You’re awake.’

  Without a word he kissed each finger in turn, savoured her palm, then grazed the fragile veins at her wrist.

  One slight tug, and she lay sprawled across his chest.

  She gained purchase on his shoulders and leant forward to kiss him, loving the feeling of power as he let her take control.

  The sensual tasting tested his strength, and just when he thought he could stand it no longer she slid down onto him. Her movements were deliberately slow as she completed one erotic circle after another until it drove him wild. His hands bit into her waist, then splayed over her hips, holding her still as he drove into her again and again, until it was she who cried out, and their voices mingled in a mutual expression of wild, untamed passion.

  Afterwards, when the spiralling subsided and their breathing returned to normal, he pulled her close and held her there.

  Her hair was a mass of tangles from where he’d raked his hands through its length, and he soothed it gently, feeling its texture, the long silken strands that fell in a cloud over her shoulders.

  He kissed her, long and deep, then he buried his mouth in the soft hollow of her neck as she slept.

  Again and again they turned to each other in the night. As the light fingers of dawn filtered through the windows they rose from the bed and showered, only to return to bed to sleep until the shrill peal of the phone sounded loud in the morning stillness.

  Sebastian kissed her briefly as she lifted her head and groaned. ‘You’d better answer it, mon amie.’

  Who could be ringing at this hour? She spared a glance at the bedside clock, and jolted upright. My God, midday!

  She scrambled out of bed, grabbed the sheet and wrapped it round her naked form, then stumbled as the tucked-in portion stubbornly refused to part from the mattress.

  Sebastian chuckled as she swore, and leaned forward to wrench it free.

  Anneke raced into the kitchen, lifted the receiver and heard her aunt’s anxious tones on the other end of the line.

  Thinking quickly on her feet after a long night of loving and very little sleep was difficult. ‘I was in the shower.’ A necessary untruth, and she shivered as she felt Sebastian’s lips nuzzle her neck. When his hands unbound the sheet, there was little she could do except shake her head at him in silent remonstrance.

  ‘Is everything all right, darling?’ Aunt Vivienne queried. ‘You sound a little…strange.’

  His lips sought her breasts, savoured the swollen peaks, then bit gently into the tender softness.

  On a strangled note she ended the call, replaced the receiver, then allowed herself to be pulled into his arms.

  ‘You’re insatiable,’ Anneke said unsteadily as his teeth nipped an earlobe.

  ‘In a minute, I’m going to collect my clothes, go home, and spend what’s left of the day at the computer.’ His lips trailed to her temple, caressed the fast-beating pulse there, then travelled down to the edge of her mouth. ‘I have a deadline to meet before I leave for Paris.’

  She turned her mouth to meet his, and wondered if she’d ever be able to survive after he left. ‘I’ll bring dinner.’

  ‘And stay.’

  ‘Sebastian—’

  ‘Stay, Anneke,’ he repeated insistently. ‘My bed, or yours. It doesn’t matter.’

  No, it didn’t. To deny him was to deny herself.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE days ran into each other, each one seeming more poignant than the last.

  Sebastian rescheduled his work pattern from mid-morning to seven in the evening. Dinner was extended by an hour, and the nights were something else as their lovemaking took on a new dimension.

  Anneke told herself she was happy, happier than she’d ever been. And she was. Except the dawn of each new day brought her one day closer to the time she’d have to bid Sebastian goodbye.

  Wednesday they drove into Byron Bay township and consigned Sebastian’s manuscript to his American agent via courier. Then they celebrated with champagne and dinner at the town’s finest restaurant.

  ‘Tomorrow we’ll fly down to Sydney.’

  Anneke heard the words, but didn’t absorb them. ‘What did you say?’

  Sebastian’s smile held a combination of humour and sensual warmth as he repeated the words.

  Her heart flipped, then raced to a painful beat. ‘We?’

  ‘We,’ he gently mocked. ‘That will give you time to gather some clothes together, do any necessary shopping, and pack.’

  ‘Pack?’

  ‘You’re coming with me to Paris.’

  Her mind whirled at the implication, and her stomach began to compete with the erratic beat of her heart. ‘What about a passport, visa—’

  ‘Your passport is valid.’ His eyes gleamed with humour as her mouth opened, then shut again. ‘Vivienne,’ he revealed succinctly.

  ‘You’ve spoken to Aunt Vivienne?’

  ‘I needed to check on your passport, make arrangements for both cottages, Shaef.’ He paused for a second. ‘And tell her you wouldn’t be spending Christmas with her in Cairns.’

  Christmas. She’d need to get gifts for his family; she couldn’t possibly go empty-handed…

  A strangled laugh rose and died in her throat with the realisation she didn’t know any details at all, with the exception of his grandmother.

  Sebastian caught each fleeting expression and accurately defined every one of them. He reached across the table and caught hold of her hand. ‘It’ll be fine,’ he reassured her. ‘Trust me.’

  They arrived in Paris mid-morning on a cold, wet, typically grey mid-winter day, tired after a long international flight.

  Sebastian collected their hire car, and drove to the gracious old home on Ile Saint-Louis where his grandmother had resided since the day she was born.

  A very beautiful home, with exquisite carpets, antique furniture, and objets d’art worth a small fortune.

  Anneke wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Certainly it hadn’t been a very stylish and sprightly woman who could easily pass for fifteen years younger than her eighty years, and whose command of the English language was more than impressive.

  ‘Your rooms are ready. I know you must want to shower, then change and rest.’

  ‘Room, Grandmère,’ Sebastian corrected. ‘We share.’

  ‘So.’

  Anneke couldn’t imagine such a little word could convey such meaning.

  ‘Are you not going to introduce me to this young woman you have brought to meet me?’

  ‘Grandmère…Anneke Sorrel.’ His arm remained at Anneke’s waist. ‘Anneke…my grandmother, Madeleine Lanier.’

  ‘Come here and let me look at you.’

  ‘You will frighten her,’ Sebastian declared with amusement.

  ‘Indeed.’ Madeleine Lanier drew herself up to her full height and glared at her grandson. ‘I frighten no one. And if she belongs to you, she belongs to this family.’

  A faint smile teased Anneke’s lips. ‘So you get to pass judgement.’

  ‘She speaks.’ Madeleine placed a hand to her heart.

  ‘Indeed she does.’ Sebastian l
eaned forward and gently brushed first one paper-thin cheek, then the other. ‘And be warned, she also speaks passable French.’

  ‘I think,’ Madeleine declared, ‘we should go into the conservatory and take coffee.’

  ‘Tea,’ Anneke said gently. ‘Earl Grey, if you have it.’

  ‘Has a mind of her own, hmm?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Good. I could not have borne it if Sebastian had brought me an airhead with designs on his money.’

  ‘I do not think Sebastian would have dared do such a thing.’

  That earned a quick glance from sharp brown eyes, and the beginnings of a musing smile. ‘He has dared many things in his short lifetime. But crossing me is not one of them.’ She moved forward and batted her grandson’s arm away from Anneke’s waist. ‘Let her go. We shall get along very well, she and I.’

  Madeleine Lanier was a pussycat. An aged, very fiercely loyal lady, who guarded her family with her life. But a pussycat, nonetheless.

  Anneke spared Sebastian a mischievous smile, and met his gleaming gaze, saw the faint shrug of resignation that accompanied it.

  ‘You are going to marry her, of course.’

  ‘Of course, Grandmère. I just haven’t got around to asking her yet.’

  Madeleine stopped in her tracks, turned and directed her grandson a baleful glare. ‘And why not?’

  Anneke didn’t know whether to smile or cry, for there was a very strong possibility jet lag had caused her to imagine the entire conversation.

  The glare shifted to Anneke. ‘You do want to marry Sebastian?’

  This was the craziest discourse she’d ever entered into! ‘If he asks me, I’ll give it some thought.’

  ‘Indeed!’

  They took coffee in the conservatory. And tea. With tiny petits fours and dainty sandwiches. Then Madeleine shooed them upstairs.

  ‘Your luggage will be in your usual suite, Sebastian. Breakfast,’ she declared regally, ‘is served at eight. Don’t be late.’

  The staircase was wide and curved gently upwards in a sweeping arc to the upper floor central landing, from which a wide corridor stretched in both directions.

  Sebastian turned to the right and traversed the corridor to its end, then opened the door to an elegant suite with views out over the Seine.

  Anneke slipped out of her shoes and crossed to the window. It was drizzling, and what she could see of the city was shrouded in damp mist.

  In spring, in summer, it would be clear, the skies a delicate blue, and there would be colour instead of the grey of winter.

  Hard, masculine arms closed round her waist and linked together over her stomach, and she leaned back against him.

  She felt weary almost beyond belief. She wanted nothing more than a long, hot shower, and a comfortable bed.

  ‘I love you,’ Sebastian said gently. ‘I planned to ask you to marry me over a candlelit dinner on Christmas Eve, with champagne, a single red rose, the gift of my mother’s ring. To introduce you to the family on the day we present and open gifts. Noël.’

  His lips touched the vulnerable spot just beneath her ear, and she turned to meet his mouth.

  ‘Yes,’ she said simply.

  It had been that easy. His arms tightened fractionally. ‘No qualifications?’

  ‘Two. We do the Christmas Eve thing, and you bring me back to Paris in the spring.’

  His smile stole her heart. ‘You’re beautiful, mon ange. My life.’

  Anneke reached up and brought his mouth down to hers.’ Je t’aime, mon amour. Je t’aime.’

  Family, Anneke reflected as she stood within the circle of Sebastian’s arms after breakfast on Christmas morning.

  The elegant lounge was filled with various aunts and uncles, cousins. And children. Madeleine Lanier’s great-grandchildren. Beautifully dressed, exquisitely groomed, and extremely well behaved. Madeleine would not have tolerated it otherwise.

  She glanced across the room and met the eyes of the gracious old lady, and smiled.

  Everyone together in peace and harmony. Sharing, caring. Hopes and dreams. Gifts and giving.

  For Madeleine Lanier, this house, her family, represented a lifetime of memories.

  And Anneke had gifted and been given the greatest gift of all.

  Love.

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

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  First published in Great Britain 2008

  by Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,

  Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

  © Helen Bianchin 1998

  ISBN: 9781408906101