that the hard, relentless pressure never eventuated, and in its place was a soft open-mouthed kiss that was nothing less than a deliberate seduction of the senses.
His tongue began a subtle exploration, seeking out all the vulnerable ridges, the tender, sensitive indentations, before beginning a delicate tracery of the tissues inside her cheek.
He seemed to fill her mouth, coaxing something from her she felt afraid to give, and she released a silent groan of relief as his lips left hers to settle in one of the vulnerable hollows at the base of her throat.
Then she gave an audible gasp as she felt his lips slide down to her breast, and the gasp became a cry of outrage as he took the peak into his mouth and savoured it gently, letting his teeth graze the sensitised nub until she almost screamed against the myriad sensations he was able to evoke.
Oh, dear lord, what had she invited? To remain quiescent was madness, yet to twist out of his grasp would only prove that she was vulnerable to his potent brand of sensual sexuality.
Just when she thought she could stand it no longer, Aleksi shifted his attention to its twin, and she arched her neck, her whole body stretching like a finely tuned bow in the hands of a master virtuoso.
It wasn’t until she felt his hand on her stomach that she realised her nightgown had slithered to a silken heap at her feet, and a despairing moan escaped her throat.
At that moment his head shifted, and his mouth resumed a provocative possession that took hold of her inhibitions and tossed them high, bringing a response that left her weak-willed and malleable.
Then it was over, and she could only look at him in helpless fascination as he slowly pushed her to arm’s length.
His lips assumed a mocking curve as he taunted with dangerous softness. ‘Ice, Alyse?’
The sound of his voice acted like a cascade of chilled water, and her own eyes widened into deep blue pools, mirroring shame and humiliation. She crossed her arms in defence of her lack of attire, hating the warmth that coloured her cheeks, and there was nothing she could do to prevent the shiver that feathered its way across the surface of her skin.
Without a word he bent to retrieve her nightgown from the floor, slipped it over her head, then slid an arm beneath her knees.
She wanted to protest, except that there was a painful lump in her throat defying speech, and the will to fight had temporarily fled as each descending step down the elegant staircase brought her closer—to what? Sexual possession?
In the centre of the master bedroom he released her, setting her on her feet, and she stood hesitant, poised for flight like a frightened gazelle.
‘Go to bed.’
Alyse reared her head in startled surprise, and her eyes felt huge in a face she knew to be waxen-pale.
‘Yours,’ Aleksi added with soft cynicism. ‘Before I change my mind and put you in mine.’
Her lips parted, then slowly closed again. There wasn’t a thing she could say that wouldn’t compound the situation, so she didn’t even try, choosing instead to walk away from him with as much dignity as she could muster.
Sleep proved an elusive entity, and she lay awake pondering whether his actions were motivated by cruelty or kindness. Somehow she couldn’t imagine it to be the latter.
ALYSE CHOSE TO stay at home with Georg when Aleksi drove to collect his parents from Brisbane airport on the pretext that it would give them time alone together in which to talk. It would also give her the opportunity to prepare dinner.
As their expected arrival drew closer, Alyse became consumed with nerves, and even careful scrutiny of a family photograph did little to ease her apprehension.
Alexandros Stefanos was an older, more distinguished replica of his indomitable son, although less forbidding, and Rachel looked serene and dignified. Both were smiling, and Alyse wondered if they would regard her kindly.
She fervently hoped so, for she was infinitely more in need of an ally than an enemy.
After initial indecision over what to wear, Alyse selected a stylishly cut leather skirt and teamed it with a knitted jumper patterned in varying shades of soft blue and lilac.
It was late afternoon when the BMW pulled into the garage, and her stomach tightened into a painful knot at the sound of the door into the hall opening, followed by two deep voices mingling with a light feminine laugh.
Drawing in a deep breath, she released it slowly and made her way towards the foyer, where an attractive mature woman stood poised, looking every bit as apprehensive as Alyse felt.
Even as Alyse came to a hesitant halt, the older woman’s mouth parted in a tentative smile, and her eyes filled with reflected warmth.
‘Alyse,’ she greeted quietly. ‘How very nice to meet you.’
‘Mrs Stefanos,’ Alyse returned, unsure precisely how she should address her mother-in-law. The circumstances were unusual, to say the least!
‘Oh, Rachel, please,’ Aleksi’s stepmother said at once, reaching forward to catch hold of both Alyse’s hands. ‘And Alexandros,’ she added, shifting slightly to one side to allow her husband the opportunity to move forward.
It was going to be all right, Alyse decided as she submitted to Alexandros Stefanos’s firm handshake. Perhaps some of her relief showed, for Aleksi spared her a reassuring smile that held surprising warmth.
‘I’ll take your luggage upstairs to the guest suite, then we’ll have a drink,’ he said.
‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Alexandros indicated in a deeply accented voice, and Alyse turned towards Rachel.
‘Come and sit down. Georg is due to wake soon.’
The older woman’s eyes misted. ‘Oh, my dear, you can’t begin to know how much I want to see him!’
‘He’s beautiful,’ Alyse accorded simply as she sank into a sofa close to the one Rachel had chosen.
‘You love him very much.’ It was a statement of fact, and Alyse’s gaze was clear and unblinking.
‘Enough not to be able to give him up. For Antonia’s sake, as well as my own,’ she added quietly.
An expression very much like sympathy softened Aleksi’s stepmother’s features—that, and a certain understanding. ‘Aleksi is very much Alexandros’s son,’ she offered gently. ‘Yet beneath the surface lies a wealth of caring. I know he’ll be a dedicated father, and,’ she paused, then added hesitantly, ‘a protective husband.’
But I don’t want a husband, Alyse felt like crying out in anguished rejection of the man who had placed a wedding band on her finger only days before. And if I did, I certainly wouldn’t have chosen your diabolical stepson!
The sound of male voices and muted laughter reached their ears, and Alyse turned towards the men as they came into the lounge.
‘A
