The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections. Louise Allen

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      ‘I think we should mingle, don’t you?’ Katrina murmured, and took a deliberate sip of champagne. This was madness. A simple gesture, and she had to control her body’s natural instinct to lean into him. ‘Thea and Rafe Richardson have not long arrived. Perhaps we could join them?’

      It was a pleasant evening, the food superb. The table seating arrangements proved interesting, and while the conversation flowed, accompanied by scintillating laughter, Katrina was conscious of receiving circumspect attention…from several women, whose veiled curiosity searched for the slightest crack appearing in Nicos’s or her own projected persona.

      If anything, Nicos seemed bent on displaying an element of tendresse, much to her discomfort. It was evident in the touch of his hand on hers, albeit that it was fleeting. Whenever they spoke together, and it seemed it was often, he gave the impression each word held meaningful importance. His attentiveness was exemplary.

      ‘You’re in serious danger of overkill,’ Katrina relayed in an undertone as he refilled her water glass.

      ‘Taking care of you?’

      She was willing to swear he wasn’t talking about food. It brought forth a vivid memory of just how he’d taken care of her needs…in the bedroom, and out of it…and her frequently explosive reaction. He possessed the touch, the skill, the knowledge, to drive her wild.

      By the time dessert was served, she’d had enough. If this was a game, it was only fair she began to play.

      Without pause for thought she spooned a small quantity of superb crème caramel and offered it to Nicos. ‘Taste this, darling.’

      His gaze locked with hers, dark brown with emerald green, and the firm curve of his mouth parted to accept the morsel.

      She refrained from repeating the gesture, and minutes later she laid a hand on his thigh. The sudden tightening of sinew beneath her fingers was encouraging, and she dug her nails in lightly, then slowly trailed her fingertips towards his groin.

      ‘Payback, Katrina?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Don’t overstep the mark.’

      ‘I wasn’t aware any boundaries were set.’

      ‘Retribution has a price.’

      ‘Threat or challenge?’

      His eyes darkened. ‘It’s your hand to play.’

      A double entendre if ever there was one! Perhaps a retreat was advisable. Temporarily, she conceded, for she wasn’t done yet.

      With deliberate intent she turned to the guest next to her and began a conversation, the content of which she retained little memory within minutes of concluding it.

      ‘I understand you’re flying down to Melbourne tomorrow to examine two sites Kevin had under review,’ said Nicos.

      Katrina turned towards him and contained her surprise. Her lawyer knew of her intention, and had presumably seen it as his duty to relay the information to Nicos.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘I’ll accompany you.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘It’s in my interest as joint executor of Kevin’s will and a member of the directorial board to sanction any decision you make regarding the sale of estate assets,’ he evinced smoothly.

      ‘I intend staying overnight.’ An intention which should interfere with his business schedule.

      ‘No problem. I imagine you’ve booked the early flight?’

      She wanted to gnash her teeth, and barely restrained herself from doing so. He’d very cleverly manoeuvred her into something she could hardly get out of, given that it was a legitimate business trip. But it was the overnight bit that irked, for the invention had worked against her.

      Coffee was served in the lounge, and she sank gracefully into a single cushioned chair. Here at least she was safe.

      Wrong, she acknowledged minutes later. Nicos came to stand within touching distance, and his close proximity had a measured effect on her breathing. As well as other more intimate parts of her body.

      What was wrong with her? They were each enacting a part. As soon as their car cleared the gates, it would herald a return to the status quo. Separate bedrooms, separate lives. Connecting only for the sake of appearances.

      So why did she feel as if her body was a finely tuned instrument awaiting the master’s touch? Every nerve was taut, each pleasure pulse acutely sensitised.

      If he touched her, she’d go up in flames.

      Did he know? Dear heaven, she hoped not! It would be a total humiliation. Hers.

      She wanted the evening to end. To be able to go home, slip out of her clothes, remove her make-up, and crawl into bed. Alone.

      Liar. You want to be with him. To experience once more what you once shared together. For the good times.

      With Nicos, it had been more than sex. It had been intimacy, a physical expression of love between two people in tune with each other on every level.

      All her protective instincts warned any attempt to revisit that special place would be akin to committing emotional suicide. And she was a survivor. She had to be.

      It was after eleven when Nicos indicated they should leave, and she expressed her gratitude to their hosts, bade fellow guests goodnight, and walked at Nicos’s side to the car.

      Minutes later they cleared the gates and soon reached the arterial road leading towards Point Piper.

      Street lights provided illumination, and the tree-lined avenues cast looming shadows. Many of the houses were in darkness, but every now and again a lit window revealed activity within.

      ‘All talked out?’

      Katrina turned slightly at the sound of that musing drawl, and could determine nothing from his expression. In the shadowed interior, his features were all angles and planes.

      ‘In recovery mode after playing charades,’ she declared, and heard his throaty chuckle.

      ‘That bad, hmm?’

      In their hosts’ home there had been security in numbers. Now they were alone, and effects of the game still lingered. Yet she was conscious of an elemental danger, aware that if she didn’t tread very carefully she could unleash a situation she wasn’t ready to deal with…now, or at any stage in the future.

      Had Nicos’s affectionate attention been entirely contrived? She told herself she didn’t want to know. Except there was a part of her that reacted to his touch, and it irked unbearably that she hadn’t been in total control of her emotions.

      It didn’t take long to traverse the distance between Woollahra and Point Piper, and Katrina slid from the car in one fluid movement, entering the lobby a few steps ahead of her inimitable husband.

      The

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