The Helen Bianchin Collection. HELEN BIANCHINЧитать онлайн книгу.
I left him?’
‘How can you be so sure he didn’t?’ Georgia countered. ‘A legal separation doesn’t require documentation, other than a noting of the date both parties live apart. The Australian legal system recognises a decree nisi application one year after the date of separation.’
‘In which case, our reconciliation has thrown a spanner in the works.’
Georgia mentally sharpened her claws and aimed for the kill. ‘Not really, darling. A year isn’t long in the scheme of things. I’m prepared to let him have you for a while.’ Her smile was pure feline. ‘After all, I’ll get to keep him for a lifetime.’
‘You’re that confident?’
‘Determined,’ the model assured.
Katrina felt sickened. ‘What makes you think I’ll give him up so easily?’
‘You did before. Why should this time be any different?’ A soft laugh slipped from her carefully painted mouth. ‘Oh, darling,’ she chastised with pitying candour, ‘you’re not going to fight for him, are you? It would be such a demeaning exercise.’
‘Demeaning to whom?’
There was a telling silence, then Georgia pursued softly, ‘I play to win.’
‘So do I.’
The model took a deliberate minute to check out her mirrored reflection before meeting Katrina’s unwavering gaze. ‘Then, we shall see who takes the prize.’
As an exit line it was a doozey.
It was several long seconds before Katrina felt calm enough to leave the relative sanctuary of the powder room and re-enter the ballroom lobby.
Nicos was standing close to one of the main doors, one of a remaining few guests, as most had already entered and were in the process of being seated.
He watched her cross the floor towards him, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of her carefully composed features.
She was a spunky lady in many ways, but grief for Kevin was taking its toll. Georgia with her insidious innuendo was an abomination, and Enrique was again trolling for cash.
He experienced angry exasperation at the hand fate had dealt him, and impatience at being forced to wait for the resolution. Yet it was the end that justified the means.
‘Georgia ensured a confrontation.’
Katrina lifted her chin and met his dark gaze with equanimity. ‘Ah, you noticed.’
‘There’s very little I don’t notice about you.’
‘Well, now, there’s the thing,’ she commented with unaccustomed flippancy. ‘I’m sure I should be flattered.’
‘She upset you.’ It wasn’t a query, merely a statement.
‘Observant, too. Please don’t ask me for a word-by-word replay.’
‘Katrina—’
‘Let’s go enter the social fray, shall we?’
‘It’ll keep.’
There were friends present whom they needed to connect with, acquaintances to acknowledge, and it was almost midnight before they could slip away.
Katrina sat quietly in the car as Nicos traversed city traffic and headed towards the eastern suburbs.
‘Want to talk about it?’
She transferred her attention from the brightly lit street and could define little from his shadowy profile.
He’d been so chillingly cool with Georgia…for her benefit? She returned her gaze to the scene beyond the windscreen. Even looking at him hurt.
‘Not particularly.’
As soon as they reached home she slid out from the car and moved through to the lobby ahead of him, mounting the stairs at a quickened pace, almost as if she was intent on putting as much distance between them as possible.
Which was ridiculous, she admitted silently as she reached the landing and made her way towards the bedroom.
Nicos followed, watching as she stepped out of her shoes, then she removed her jewellery before freeing the zip fastening on her gown.
‘I had no idea Georgia would be there tonight.’
Her fingers stilled for a few seconds, then she slid the straps free from her shoulders and carefully slipped the gown down over her hips.
All she wore were thong briefs, and he wondered if she had any idea how provocative she appeared. Pale, satin-textured skin, slender, toned curves, and firm breasts which fitted perfectly into his palms.
He wanted to skim his hands over her hips, then slide up to cup each breast, teasing the peaks with the tips of his thumbs, then replace his hands with his mouth.
‘I don’t really care.’ It was as well her face was hidden from him, otherwise he’d have seen through the fabrication in a heartbeat.
Then he was there, his hands turning her towards him, and he dealt with her token struggle as easily as if he were restraining a child.
There was little she could do to prevent him capturing her chin and tilting it so she had little option but to look at him.
‘Yes, you do.’
His voice was a soft drawl, and she fought against swallowing compulsively, afraid the gesture would give hint to her fragile emotions.
‘Don’t.’ The single word was a desperate plea as his head lowered down to hers, and she closed her mouth against him, only to have her lips part involuntarily at the first, slow sweep of his tongue.
It was a kiss to die for, gentle, evocative, pervasive, and she ignored the taunting little voice in her head that warned he was merely embarking on a skilled seduction.
A faint groan sighed in her throat as he reached for the pins in her hair, slipping them free with practised ease, then he threaded his fingers through its length and held fast her head, angling his own as he deepened the kiss to something that was almost an oral duplication of the sexual act itself.
Then it was too late, and she was unaware of him removing his clothes, only that he had, and she reached for him, drowning in his touch as he tumbled her down onto the bed, the magic his mouth was able to evoke, and her own unbridled response.
It was only later, much later that she rolled away from him, angry with herself for her own weakness and with him for what she perceived as his ability to take advantage of it.
‘Deny what we share, if you can,’ Nicos said hardily.
Her eyes assumed a fiery sparkle. ‘And that’s supposed to make me feel okay? You think I don’t hate myself for this…addiction to—’
‘Sex?’
‘You.’
‘Thank you, agape mou,’ he acknowledged silkily, ‘for the distinction.’
Katrina burst into angry speech. ‘I shouldn’t be able to feel like this. It’s—’ words momentarily failed her ‘—disgusting!’
His expression hardened, and she glimpsed a muscle tense at the edge of his jaw. ‘I can think of many apt descriptions,’ he said with deceptive quietness. ‘Disgusting isn’t one of them.’
‘What would you call it, then?’ she demanded.
‘Sensual magic. Primitive passion. Raw desire. Meshing into something unique…for both of us.’
Dear God. In the beginning it had been all of that, and more. Much more. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. Even now, after everything that had split them apart, the emotional intensity was just as fierce. A primeval force demanding recognition.
A year