Married For Convenience. Helen Bianchin

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      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 lime.’

      He ordered coffee for himself, and she sipped the contents of her glass, contrarily wanting the evening to be over, yet strangely hesitant to leave the restaurant.

      Why so apprehensive? she reiterated to herself as the Bentley cruised smoothly towards Palm Beach. There was no medical reason why they shouldn’t resume intimacy, and to be so racked with nerves was ridiculous.

      ‘Do you want to share?’

      The sound of his voice startled her, and she turned towards him in silent query.

      ‘Your thoughts,’ Alejandro elaborated as he eased the large vehicle into the driveway, then activated the remote control to raise the garage doors.

      Dear heaven, had he guessed? What would he say if she said she was scared stiff…of him in the role of lover? More than likely he would be mildly amused, she decided wretchedly.

      As soon as the car came to a halt she released the seatbelt and slid to her feet, waiting as he sprang the locking system before crossing to her side as they entered the house.

      Once indoors she made straight for the stairs, only to come to an abrupt halt as his hand closed over her elbow and he turned her round to face him.

      His eyes were faintly hooded, his tone a deceptively soft drawl. ‘You’re reacting like a skittish kitten, unsure whether to leap and run, or stay.’

      ‘Perhaps because that’s how I feel.’

      ‘You find my touch abhorrent?’

      Oh, my, nothing like aiming straight for the jugular. ‘No,’ she disclaimed quietly. ‘But I’m not ready to sleep with you.’

      ‘We already sleep together.’ His voice was so dangerously quiet that it sent an icy shiver scudding down her back.

      Dull pink streaked her cheeks. He was fully aware of the havoc he was creating, and she hated him for the deliberate assault on her ambivalent emotions.

      ‘You know that isn’t what I meant.’

      He caught hold of her chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting it so that she had to look at him.

      She couldn’t articulate a single word, and it was difficult to swallow the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. Her eyes felt large and impossibly wide as she watched his head descend, and she was incapable of movement as he angled his mouth to settle over hers in a kiss that claimed his possession, savouring it in a manner that alternated between gentleness and restrained savagery.

      Elise told herself she should be shocked. Instead, she became caught up in a tide of deep primitive need.

      One hand cradled her face, the other cupped her bottom as he pulled her hard against him. Evidence of his arousal was a hard, throbbing entity, and she gave a faint moan of protest as his mouth took on a light teasing quality, then slowly withdrew.

      She could only look at him, totally ignorant of the deep slumberous quality evident in her eyes. Her lips felt swollen, and she could have sworn they trembled beneath the intentness of his dark gaze.

      It was as if time stood still, for she wasn’t conscious of anything except the man: his eyes, the sensual curve of his mouth, the hard planes of his jaw, the strength of his chin, the texture of his skin.

      He didn’t say a word for what seemed an age, then he leaned forward, swept an arm beneath her knees and lifted her against his chest.

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