Greek's Pride. Helen Bianchin

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      The telephone rang twice between seven and eight o’clock, and neither call was from Aleksi Stefanos.

      A cloud of doubt dulled her eyes as she pondered the irony of him not ringing at all, only to start visibly when the insistent burr of the phone sounded shortly before nine.

      It had to be him, and she let it peal five times in a fit of sheer perversity before picking up the receiver.

      ‘Alyse?’ His slightly accented drawl was unmistakable, his use of her Christian name an impossible liberty, she decided as she attempted to still a sense of foreboding. ‘Have you reached a decision?’

      He certainly didn’t believe in wasting words! A tinge of anger heightened her mood. Careful, a tiny voice cautioned. You don’t want to blow it. ‘Yes.’

      There was silence for a few seconds as he waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t he queried with ill-concealed mockery, ‘Must I draw it from you like blood from a stone?’

      If it wasn’t for Georg she’d slam down the receiver without the slightest compunction. ‘I’ve considered your proposition,’ she said tightly, ‘and I’ve decided to accept.’ There, she’d actually said it.

      ‘My parents arrive from Athens at the beginning of next week,’ Aleksi Stefanos told her without preamble, and she would have given anything to ruffle that imperturbable composure. ‘They’re naturally eager to see Georg, and there’s no reason why you both shouldn’t fly back to Queensland with me on Friday.’

      ‘I can’t possibly be ready by then,’ Alyse protested, visibly shaken at the way he was assuming control.

      ‘Professional packers will ensure that everything in the house is satisfactorily dealt with,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Whatever you need can be air-freighted to the Coast, and the rest put into storage. The house can be put into the hands of a competent letting agent, and managerial control arranged at the boutique. I suggest you instruct Hugh Mannering to draw up a power of attorney and liaise with him. All it takes is a few phone calls. To satisfy the Family Services Department, it would be advisable if a civil marriage ceremony is held here in Perth—Thursday, if it can be arranged. Relevant documentation regarding Georg’s adoption can then be signed ready for lodgement, leaving us free of any added complications in removing him from the State.’

      ‘Dear heaven,’ Alyse breathed unsteadily, ‘you don’t believe in wasting time!’

      ‘I’ll give you a contact number where I can be reached,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, relaying a set of digits she had to ask him to repeat as she quickly wrote them down. ‘Any questions?’

      ‘At least ten,’ she declared with unaccustomed sarcasm.

      ‘They can wait until dinner tomorrow evening.’

      ‘With everything I have to do, I won’t have time for dinner!’

      ‘I’ll collect you at six.’

      There was a click as he replaced the receiver, and Alyse felt like screaming in vexation. What had she expected—small talk? Revenge, she decided, would be very sweet!

      Removing the receiver, she placed a call to Miriam Stanford and asked if the manageress could work the entire day tomorrow, informed her briefly of her intended plans and promised she would be in at some stage during the afternoon.

      Alyse slept badly, and rose just after dawn determined to complete a host of household chores, allowing herself no respite as she conducted a thorough spring-clean of the large old home, stoically forcing herself to sort through Antonia’s possessions—something she’d continually put off until now.

      It was incredibly sad, for there were so many things to remind her of the happy young girl Antonia had been, the affection and laughter they had shared. Impossible to really believe she was no longer alive, when celluloid prints and vivid memories provided such a painful reminder.

      Despite her resolve to push Aleksi Stefanos to the edge of her mind, it was impossible not to feel mildly apprehensive as she settled Georg with the babysitter before retiring to the bathroom to shower, then dress for the evening ahead.

      Selecting an elegant slim-fitting off-the-shoulder gown in deep sapphire blue, she teamed it with black stiletto-heeled shoes, tended to her make-up with painstaking care, then brushed her shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair into its customary smooth bell before adding a generous touch of Van Cleef & Arpels’ Gem to several pulsebeats. Her only added jewellery was a diamond pendant, matching earstuds and bracelet.

      At five minutes to six she checked last-minute details with the babysitter, brushed a fleeting kiss to Georg’s forehead, then moved towards the lounge, aware of a gnawing nervousness in the pit of her stomach with every step she took.

      Now that she was faced with seeing him again, she began to wonder if she was slightly mad to toy with a man of Aleksi Stefanos’s calibre. He undoubtedly ate little girls for breakfast, and although she was no naïve nineteen-year-old, her experience with men had been pitifully limited to platonic friendships that had affection as their base rather than any degree of passion. It hardly equipped her to act a required part.

      Yet act she must—at least until she had his wedding ring on her finger. Afterwards she could set the rules by which the marriage would continue, and for how long.

      Punctuality was obviously one of his more admirable traits, for just as she reached the foyer there was the soft sound of car tyres on the gravel drive followed almost immediately by the muted clunk of a car door closing.

      At once she was conscious of an elevated nervous tension, and it took every ounce of courage to move forward and open the door.

      Standing in its aperture, Aleksi Stefanos looked the epitome of male sophistication attired in a formal dark suit. Exuding more than his fair share of dynamic masculinity, he had an element of tensile steel beneath the polite veneer, a formidableness and sense of purpose that was daunting.

      ‘Alyse.’ There was an edge of mockery apparent, and she met his gaze with fearless disregard, blindly ignoring the increased tempo of her heartbeat.

      Just a glance at the sensual curve of his mouth was enough to remember how it felt to be positively absorbed by the man, for no one in their wildest imagination could term what he had subjected her to as merely a kiss.

      Conscious of his narrowed gaze, Alyse stood aside to allow him entry, acknowledging politely, ‘Mr Stefanos.’

      ‘Surely you can force yourself to say Aleksi?’ he chastised with ill-concealed mockery.

      Alyse choked back a swift refusal. Steady, she cautioned—anger will get you precisely nowhere. Opting for the line of least resistance, she ventured evenly, ‘If you insist.’ Remembering her manners, she indicated the lounge. ‘Please come in. Would you care for a drink?’

      ‘Unless you’d prefer one, I suggest we leave,’ he countered smoothly. ‘I’ve booked a table for six-thirty.’

      Without a further word she preceded him to the car, allowing him to reach forward and open the door, and she slid into the passenger seat, aware of his close proximity seconds later as he slipped in behind the wheel and set the large vehicle in motion.

      ‘Where СКАЧАТЬ