The Helen Bianchin Collection. Helen Bianchin
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‘Would you like to eat out? There’s a variety of restaurants within a short driving distance.’
Alejandro’s entry into the room had been soundless, and she glanced up in surprise as he crossed to stand within touching distance.
In public? The idea held definite appeal. ‘Yes.’
His soft laughter held a degree of quizzical warmth, and she swallowed convulsively as he caught hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing each finger in turn before slipping inward to caress the softness of her palm. The sensation sent tiny shock-waves radiating from her feminine core, and she shivered at the lambent warmth evident in those dark eyes so close to her own.
Releasing her, he slid both hands beneath her blouse to free the fastening of her bra. His fingers were warm, his touch deft, unleashing a number of sensations she found difficult to ignore.
It would have been all too easy to lift a hand and pull his head down to hers to initiate a long, sweet kiss. Except that if she did, it wouldn’t stop there.
‘If you continue to look at me like that for much longer,’ Alejandro drawled, pressing a finger to the soft lower fullness of her lip, ‘I’ll take it as an invitation to join you in the shower. Afterwards,’ he promised huskily, ‘where and when we eat won’t be a consideration.’
Colour stained her cheekbones and she turned away from him, forcing herself to walk to their suite with unhurried steps. Once there, she gathered up fresh underwear and entered the bathroom.
The water’s warm spray soothed her fractured nerves, and she stayed longer than necessary, emerging to towel herself dry, then don lace-edged briefs.
Alejandro was in the process of tucking a shirt into his trousers when she entered the bedroom, and she consciously averted her gaze as she crossed to the capacious wardrobe to select something suitable to wear.
Black silk culottes, slim-heeled black sandals, and a long white sleeveless button-through silk top, she decided as she extracted the clothes from their hangers. It was a go-anywhere ensemble that was both comfortable and elegant.
Elise stepped into the culottes and pulled them into position at her waist, then reached for the top as Alejandro crossed to her side.
‘No bra to fasten?’
‘The top is fully lined,’ she explained, intent on closing the buttons. She lifted her head and her eyes clashed with his dark, disturbing gaze. A spiral of sensation began in the region of her stomach, radiating a wealth of sensual warmth which she found difficult to ignore. Dampening it down, she forced her voice to remain steady. ‘I won’t be long. I just need to brush my hair and apply basic make-up.’
‘You look about sixteen.’
She managed a shaky smile. ‘Much too young to be married and pregnant to a man like you.’
‘Por Dios,’ Alejandro drawled. ‘Why a man like me?’
Levity, surely, was an appropriate weapon, and she used it without hesitation. ‘If you’re going to swear, at least do so in English,’ she chastised with mock severity.
He laughed softly and brushed his lips against hers. ‘You are beginning to recover,’ he mocked drily. ‘Soon you’ll be challenging me at every turn.’
Dear heaven. She’d been that brave to cross verbal swords with him… that foolish?
‘If you’re ready,’ he suggested easily, ‘let’s go and eat.’
She moved into the bathroom, brushed her hair until it resembled a curtain of pale silk, stroked translucent gold shadow on to each eyelid, then applied lipliner and gloss.
When she emerged Alejandro was waiting for her, an impeccably tailored reefer jacket lending an air of sophistication she felt at a loss to match.
The restaurant he chose was Italian, small, delightfully intimate and filled with a variety of beguiling aromas that teased her taste-buds. There was also a tiny square of parquet floor and a man of middle years playing a soft romantic ballad on a small electronic keyboard.
Elise ordered tortellini with mushrooms served with garlic bread, while Alejandro opted for pasta with a marinara sauce, and afterwards she sat back feeling replete.
‘Dessert?’
She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t fit in another mouthful.’
He seemed totally at ease, and she couldn’t help being aware that his presence caused a flutter of interest among several of the female patrons.
How could she blame them? He was a superb male animal, who possessed more than his share of sexual magnetism. Inherent good looks and an overwhelming aura of power made him a spellbinding challenge few women could ignore.
The lilting music and warm convivial atmosphere of the restaurant were persuasive, and she cast him a faintly wistful smile.
‘Would you like to try the dance-floor?’
She looked helplessly at the small square of parquetry that held one couple, then inclined her head in silent acquiescence.
Minutes later she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. Her right hand lay supported between her breasts, while the fingers of her left hand rested against his shoulder. His hands were loosely linked behind her hips, forming a protective cage, and this close she could sense his body-warmth beneath the sophisticated mantle of his clothes.
His movements were sure, fluid, his strength a potent entity as he guided her with effortless ease. The keyboard player sang a hauntingly slow ballad, and to her surprise her steps didn’t falter once, although her breathing quickened in tempo with her fast-beating pulse.
Warm heat spread through her veins, suffusing her body until she was aware of every sensory pleasure-spot, and a deep aching need that cried out for his touch.
She felt his hands shift to curve over the slight swell of her bottom as the ballad finished and another began, even more poignant than the last. Seconds later, she felt the brush of his lips against her hair as they trailed down to settle at her temple, and her stomach executed a tiny somersault, then went into a series of crazy flips as his warm breath stirred a few stray tendrils close to her ear.
Slowly she lifted her head, her eyes skimming the broad column of his throat to take in the firm contours of his mouth, the straight patrician nose, the sculpted cheekbones, and lastly his intensely dark eyes.
What she glimpsed there deepened the colour already staining her cheeks, and her mouth trembled slightly as she sought to put some distance between them.
He immediately loosened his hold, allowing one arm to curve lightly round her back as he led her from the floor.
‘Another drink?’ Alejandro queried when they were seated.
Something cool, icy, she qualified silently. ‘Please,’ she accepted. ‘Lemonade with a dash of