The Helen Bianchin Collection. HELEN BIANCHINЧитать онлайн книгу.
suit, the snowy white cotton shirt, the neat black bow tie. ‘Not bad.’ A mischievous smile curved her generous mouth. ‘I guess you’ll do.’
‘Indeed?’ He took in her finely boned features, the petite stature that never failed to stir in him a host of emotions. ‘Shall we leave?’
They arrived fifteen minutes before the premiere was due to begin, and walked into the crowded foyer as invited patrons were entering the auditorium.
The film had an unusual premise, one that enchanted the mind, yet held an underlying thread which provided a startling conclusion. The acting was superb, and it was touted that the three main actors would receive Academy Award nominations.
Miguel reached for her hand as the credits rolled, and together they slipped from the darkened theatre ahead of the general exodus.
‘Feel like going somewhere for coffee?’
Hannah almost declined, then changed her mind. ‘Why not?’
They walked a block, then entered an arcade whose decor was late nineteenth century, and chose a small café specialising in imported coffee and delicate home-made savouries and cakes.
No one seemed to be in a hurry, and it was an ideal niche to relax, unwind, and just be.
They both ordered liqueur coffees, and selected a small delicacy to sample.
‘My cousin Alejandro and his wife Elise are flying in for the weekend,’ Miguel told her as he sweetened his coffee. ‘They’ll attend the Leukaemia Foundation charity ball as our guests on Saturday evening.’
Hannah offered him a warm smile. She’d only met Elise a few times since the wedding, but they shared a friendly empathy. ‘How long are they staying?’
‘Only a few days. Elise is leaving the two boys with a nanny and flying north to spend time with friends while Alejandro is in Perth.’
‘You’re going with him.’ It was a statement, not a query, and Miguel glimpsed the fleeting emotions evident in her expressive features.
‘You could join me.’
Hannah almost said yes. Then she remembered Cindy was unavailable, and leaving the boutique in a stranger’s hands wasn’t an option. ‘I’d love to,’ she said regretfully. ‘But I can’t.’ She gave a resigned shrug. ‘How long will you be away?’
‘Two, maybe three days.’
Two lonely nights. She could go visit her parents, connect with a few friends and organise a night at the theatre, take in a movie, maybe go out to dinner. Numerous possibilities to occupy her time. Except she’d miss him like crazy.
Did he possess an inkling how much he meant to her? Somehow she doubted it. Fondness and affection didn’t equate to love. And duty was an empty substitute.
‘The boutique—’
‘Is important to you.’
She looked at him carefully, silently imploring him to understand. ‘We agreed—’
‘I know.’
‘It’s the one thing I’ve done totally on my own,’ she said simply.
‘I’m not questioning your ability to achieve success in your own right.’
‘No. But you want me to choose.’
‘The social circuit in favour of the boutique?’ He arched a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Not your style, Hannah.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘Give Cindy a promotion. Elevate her to manageress, cultivate two relieving saleswomen who can work in your place.’
‘Thus leaving me available to travel with you at short notice?’
‘I would prefer to have you with me, than leave you at home.’
A concession? An admission of sorts? ‘I’ll give it serious thought,’ she conceded, and saw his gleaming smile.
‘Do that, amada.’ He drained what remained of his coffee. ‘Shall we leave?’
It was late when Miguel garaged the car, and on entering their bedroom Hannah removed her clothes, her make-up, and slid between the cool percale sheets.
She fell asleep within minutes, drifting effortlessly into oblivion where scattered dreams invaded her subconscious mind until the early hours, when the light brush of fingers trailing the indentations of her spine brought her slowly into a state of lazy wakefulness.
Hannah arched her body in a feline stretch, then turned towards the man who was bent on creating havoc with her senses.
With deliberate playfulness she traced a teasing pattern over the dark whorls of hair that smattered his chest, dipping the tips of her nails and gently dragging them across his pectoral muscles before trailing to his navel.
She heard his faint intake of breath, and explored lower, barely touching the engorged tumescent shaft as she sought the apex between his thighs.
In one fluid movement she rose into a sitting position and swept aside the bedcovers, aware of his hands as they caressed her breasts, bringing the dusky peaks into tingling arousal.
Her hair was loose, its length tousled from sleep, and she bent her head so that it brushed against the most sensitised part of his body in a movement that brought him to the brink.
With a soft growl he closed his hands over her waist as he deftly swung her round to sit astride him, and she gasped out loud as his fingers touched her intimately.
Sensation arrowed through her body as he gently rocked her back and forth, until it was she who cried out his name and begged for his possession.
He gave it, lifting her so that she slowly took him deep inside as her body lowered onto him, and then it was she who held the power, she who set the pace, until he removed it from her and took over.
Together they sought the pinnacle and soared the heights in perfect accord. A slow, beautiful sharing of the ultimate meshing of mind, body and soul.
Such attuned sensuality robbed her of the ability to speak, even to move for what seemed an age, then she gently subsided against his chest, nuzzling her lips into the curve of his neck.
His hands brushed the length of her back, caressed her buttocks, returned to slide through the length of her hair as he angled her head towards his, seeking her mouth in a kiss that made her want to weep with its gentle evocativeness.
He traced a path over every inch of her skin, lingering over pleasure pulses, teasing them into vibrant life until she pleaded for him to stop.
‘Are you sure you want me to?’ Miguel teased in a soft accented drawl, and he gave a low husky laugh at her denial.
What followed was a tantalisingly slow loving as he followed the trail of his hand with his mouth, using it as an erotic instrument that made her totally his. Passion flared as he surged into her, raw and primitive, an exotic hunger that was libidinous and almost beyond control.
Afterwards they slept a little, exhausted, until dawn filtered silvered fingers of light through the diminishing darkness, slowly painting soft muted colour over land and sea until the emerging sun feathered a faint golden glow, giving substance to shadows as it heralded a new day.
Hannah woke to an awareness of weightlessness and the knowledge she was being carried. There was also the faint hum of tumbling water, and the slight scent of aromatic oils.
Within seconds Miguel lowered her into the pulsing spa-bath, then stepped in to sit opposite.
He looked far too vibrant for her peace of mind, and she scooped up a handful of water and aimed it at him, watching his gleaming smile as he returned the favour.
With automatic movements she twisted the length of her hair atop her head and secured it with a pin from a nearby shell-shaped dish.
It