The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections. Louise Allen
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‘I’ll get a taxi back,’ she said lightly, unwilling to put a curfew on the day. Who knew how long lunch with Siobhan would extend? And besides, she might want to explore the shops for a while.
‘Perhaps you will ring when you are ready?’ José suggested on an anxious note. ‘Alejandro would insist.’
Alejandro could insist all he liked! ‘I’ll let you know,’ she conceded, feeling only slightly guilty that she had no intention of calling José. She proffered a warm smile, then opened the door and stepped down on to the pavement, waiting only a few seconds after he pulled out into the traffic before making her way towards the next street.
Siobhan was waiting for her, and they hugged each other as if it was years instead of several weeks since they had last seen each other.
‘You look fantastic,’ Siobhan declared as they entered the restaurant. The maître d’ took them to a table with views of the harbour, handed them each a menu, then left them to make a selection. ‘How is your hand?’
They ordered mineral water, deliberated over what they would eat, ordered, then attempted to continue where they had left off the previous afternoon.
Three hours later they shared the bill and wandered out into the fresh afternoon sunshine.
‘The shops?’ Siobhan hazarded with an irrepressible grin, laughing as Elise concurred with alacrity.
It was after five when they parted, promising to phone to arrange another lunch together the following week.
Taxis were in high demand, and the queue at the nearest rank was a lengthy one. Securing a taxi within half an hour looked to be impossible.
Damn, Elise cursed, aware that she should have taken the peak hour into consideration. Maybe a rank in one of the neighbouring streets would offer her a better opportunity.
It didn’t. If anything, it was even longer. There wasn’t much choice except to ring José.
She reached into her bag, then made a wry grimace on discovering that she had left the compact mobile phone at home. Locating a telephone booth took several minutes, and she had to wait for two people in front of her to take their turn in making calls.
Finally she got through, and the signal only sounded twice before the receiver was lifted from the hook. However, it wasn’t José, or even Ana, who answered, and her heart took on an agitated beat.
‘Where are you?’
Alejandro sounded so coldly furious that it was all she could do not to snap back at him.
‘Downtown city. All the taxi ranks have horrendous queues.’
He appeared to be summoning control, and his anger emanated down the line. ‘Where, precisely, Elise?’
‘Tell José I’ll wait in Elizabeth Street, the Park Street end.’
However, it was the black Porsche which pulled into the kerb some thirty minutes later, not the Pajero.
One glance at Alejandro’s harsh features was enough to determine that a battle was about to commence.
Alejandro leaned across and opened the passenger door. ‘Get in.’ His voice sounded clipped, and Elise slid in beside him and fastened her seatbelt.
It took the next change of lights before he could ease the Porsche ahead of the traffic, and their progress was hampered by the sheer number of vehicles vacating the city.
‘I planned on being home before now.’ It was a statement, not an apology.
‘Obviously.’
Anger rose to the surface as she turned towards him. ‘Dammit, Alejandro, I won’t allow you to put me in a gilded cage!’
Something flickered in the depth of his eyes. ‘My position in the business arena is well-reported in the Press.’ A muscle tensed at the edge of his jaw. ‘In today’s society there are a few fanatics who take pleasure in targeting those who lead a high-profile existence. Consequently, I take extreme care to ensure any possible risks are kept to a minimum.’ He spared her a dark glance, then returned his attention to negotiating the traffic. ‘Hence the necessity for security measures. The reason I insist you always carry a mobile phone, and each vehicle has a car phone. A need for someone—myself, Ana, José—to be aware of your whereabouts. For protection. Not restriction.’
She lifted a hand in angry agitation. ‘If I’d had my own car, this wouldn’t have happened.’
He didn’t say anything. He had no need, Elise decided darkly as the car cleared the city confines and traversed Bayswater Road. The traffic thinned slightly as they reached Double Bay, and ten minutes later the Porsche swung through the wide double gates at the entrance to the Point Piper mansion.
The garage doors lifted at a touch from Alejandro’s remote module, then the car slid into place between the Pajero and a stunning red topof-the-range Mercedes sedan.
‘Yours,’ Alejandro told her as she cast it an admiring glance.
Her stomach executed a slow flip, and she turned slowly towards him. ‘You bought it for me?’
His expression was unfathomable. ‘José will take you for a test-drive tomorrow.’ He unclipped his belt and slid out from behind the wheel.
Elise did likewise, pausing long enough to run tentative fingers over the red satin-smooth paintwork. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said quietly and, taking a step towards him, she reached up and placed a fleeting kiss on the edge of his chin. ‘Thank you.’
His mouth curved to form a wry smile, and his eyes assumed a darkness she found impossible to fathom.
‘Your hand,’ Alejandro asked quietly. ‘How does it feel now the bandages and plaster have been removed?’
‘A little strange. Stiff,’ she elaborated with a slight shrug. ‘Physiotherapy helps.’
‘Shall we go indoors? Ana will be waiting to serve dinner.’
She needed to freshen up, and use the bathroom. ‘Give me ten minutes.’
Elise took time to change into silk trousers and a matching top, then ran a brush through her hair. A quick slash of pink restored colour to her lips.
Her expression was vaguely pensive as she joined Alejandro in the dining-room, and she spooned her soup with little real appetite and merely picked at the tender beef with its accompanying vegetables.
‘Not hungry?’
Elise looked at him carefully, examining the strong bone-structure, the assemblage of muscle and skin that moulded his features into compelling attractiveness.
Before the accident she would not have had the least compunction about beginning an argument with him. Not only that, she would have delighted in doing battle, exulting when she succeeded in rousing his temper. It was madness, because she could never win against