The Seduction Season (HQR Presents)

by Helen Bianchin

  He was asleep. His breathing hadn’t changed. She began a slow, tactile exploration of her own, skimming over warm skin, strong muscle and sinew to his pelvis, lightly examining the faint hollow, the keloid puckering of a surgical scar.

  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 on
e. 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 leaned 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.

  * * * * *

  Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of Michelle Smart’s next book,

  A PASSIONATE REUNION IN FIJI

  Workaholic billionaire Massimo Briatore has convinced his estranged wife Livia to accompany him to Fiji for a family celebration. It’s supposed to be one final weekend of pretending to be happily married. But, trapped in paradise, there’s no escape from the memories of the tenderness and heat that once bound them together. An explosive reunion is on the cards—but only if their passion can burn away their past…

  Read on for a glimpse of

  A PASSIONATE REUNION IN FIJI

  CHAPTER ONE

  LIVIA BRIATORE CLIMBED the metal steps to the sleek jet’s cabin, her heart hammering so hard she felt the vibrations in the tips of her hair. The sun was setting, the growing darkness perfectly matching the darkness that had enveloped her these recent months.

  THE FLIGHT CREW, the same crew from when she’d first boarded this plane over two years ago, greeted her warmly but with questions ringing from their eyes.

  Livia responded with a smile but the effort was such the muscles of her mouth protested. She didn’t think she’d smiled once these past four months.

  Sick dread swirled in her stomach. Clamping her teeth together, she straightened her spine and raised her chin, then stepped into the luxurious cabin where she was destined to spend the next twenty-six hours flying to Fiji.

  Immediately her senses were assailed by the familiar smell of expensive upholstery mingled with the musky yet citrusy scent of the man on the plush leather seat, a laptop open before him.

  She almost doubled over with the strength of the pain that punched through her stomach.

  The first time Livia had stepped on this plane her heart had pounded with excitement and anticipation. Her body had run amok with brand-new feelings.

  That first time in this plane, taking off from this very same airport in Rome, she had been filled with more happiness than she had known existed. The man whose attention was currently fixed on his laptop had hardly been able to wait for take-off before dragging her into the bedroom to make love to her.

  All that was left of the flame of the passion that had seen them married within a month of meeting was ashes.

  She blinked the painful memories away and forced her leaden legs forward.

  She’d made a promise and she would keep it, however much it hurt.

  The plane had four luxury window seats facing each other with the aisle between them. Massimo had raised his partition and when she took the seat diagonal to his, all she could see of him were his shoes. They were as buffed and polished as they always had been, a quirk she had thought adorable. Her husband was the least vain man she had ever met but he always took pride in his footwear.

  She fastened her seat belt then laced her fingers tightly together to stop herself giving in to the need to bite her nails. She’d had an expensive gel treatment done on them the day before, masking that they were all bitten to the quick. She didn’t want Massimo to see them like that. She couldn’t bear for him to look at her and see the signs of her broken heart.

  Livia had patched her heart back up. She’d licked her wounds and stitched herself back together. That was the only good thing about her childhood. It had taught her how to survive.

  She would survive the next four days too. Four days and then she need never see him again.

  The captain�
��s voice came over the tannoy system, informing them they were cleared to take off. His words brought Massimo to life. The partition acting as a barrier came down as he closed his laptop and stored it away, then fastened his seat belt. Not once did he look at her but Livia was aware of every movement he made. Her heart bloomed to see the muscles of his tall, lean body flex beneath the expensive navy shirt with the sleeves carelessly rolled up, the buttons around his strong neck undone. No doubt he’d ripped the tie he would have worn to the conference from his neck the moment he’d left the venue. A maverick even by usual standards, Massimo conformed to rules only when he judged it necessary. She supposed the engineering conference in London he’d been guest of honour at had been an occasion he’d decided was worthy of bothering with an actual suit.

  Livia only knew he’d been in London because his PA had casually mentioned it in her email when they’d been making the arrangements for today.

  It wasn’t until the plane taxied down the runway that the soulful caramel eyes she had once stared into with wonder finally met her gaze. It was the briefest of glances before he turned his attention to the window beside his head but it was enough for Livia’s stomach to flip over and her throat to tighten.

  Massimo’s face was one she’d been familiar with long before they’d met. Employed as his grandfather’s private nurse, she’d stared at the large Briatore family portrait that had hung in his grandfather’s living room too many times to count. Her gaze had always been drawn to the only member whose smile appeared forced. It was a beautiful face. Slightly long with high cheekbones, a strong Roman nose and a wide firm mouth, it was a chameleon of a face, fitting for a construction worker, a banker or a poet. That it belonged to one of the richest self-made billionaires in the world was irrelevant. She would have been drawn to that face no matter who he was.

  Seeing him in the flesh for the first time, in the church his sister was getting married in, had been like having all the oxygen sucked out of her.

  The first time she’d seen him smile for real her insides had melted as if she’d been injected with liquid sunshine. She had brought that smile out in him. She couldn’t even remember what she’d said, only that after hours of sidelong glances at each other throughout the wedding ceremony and the official photographs, she’d gone to the bar of the hotel the reception was being held in and suddenly the air around her had become electrified. She’d known before even turning her head that he’d come to stand beside her. Her tongue, usually so razor sharp, had tied itself in knots. Whatever she’d said in those first awkward moments had evoked that smile and in that instant all the awkwardness disappeared and it was as if they had known each other for ever.