The Helen Bianchin Collection. HELEN BIANCHINЧитать онлайн книгу.
place in a lawyer’s office.’
‘Is that what he told you?’
‘What if I told you I have a private detective’s report tabling Nicos’s every move?’ She didn’t, but Georgia wasn’t to know that.
‘Then, you have precise details of each liaison.’
Stay calm, Katrina bade silently. She’s merely calling your bluff. Or was she? Don’t go there.
Summoning icy control Katrina stood to her feet and crossed to the door. ‘You’ll have to excuse me.’
Georgia’s features were composed, her voice dripping with pseudo sympathy. ‘He may remain married to you, darling, but he’ll always be mine.’
She swept out the door with the sort of smile that made Katrina want to smash something.
Déjàvu, she reflected grimly as she crossed back to her desk.
Nine months ago she’d stood in this office shattered beyond belief at the news Georgia was pregnant with Nicos’s child.
Had she been wrong? Could Georgia have contrived evidence that, while appearing irrefutable, was in fact erroneous?
Nicos had asserted his innocence from the beginning. What if he was right?
There was nothing she could do, but wait for the DNA results to be released.
Lunch wasn’t even an option, and by mid-afternoon she was punchy. Make that very punchy, she determined after taking a call from her wayward and very persistent stepbrother.
She couldn’t even threaten to expose him to Chloe, for his mother was well aware of his habitual need for money and why. It was, Chloe had explained languidly, a phase. As far as Katrina was concerned, Enrique had long outgrown this phase and was several steps down the path to addiction.
It was five-thirty when she left the office, and she joined the commuter trail of bumper-to-bumper vehicles clogging the city’s arterial routes leading to suburbs on all compass points.
Nicos’s car was already in the garage when she parked the Boxster close by, and he was there in the lobby when she entered it.
Katrina threw him a fulminating glare as she bypassed him and made for the stairs. ‘Don’t even ask.’ And she missed the way his eyebrow slanted with cynical bemusement as he viewed her ascending.
When she reached the landing she deftly removed one heeled pump, then the other, and by the time she reached the bedroom she’d unbuttoned her jacket, had loosened the camisole she wore beneath it, and was working on the zip fastening of her skirt.
A minute later she walked naked into the en suite, cast the spa-bath a covetous glance, longing to sink into the capacious tub and have the numerous jets work magic on her tense muscles…except she couldn’t afford the luxury of unlimited time.
The shower beckoned, and she twisted the dial, adjusted the temperature, then stepped beneath the cascading water, collected the rose-scented soap and began lathering her skin.
She felt tired and emotionally wrung out and, dammit, she hurt in places she didn’t even want to think about.
A slight sound alerted her attention, and she turned, gasping out loud as Nicos stepped naked into the shower stall with her.
‘What in hell do you think you’re doing?’
He took the soap from her nerveless fingers. ‘I’d think it was obvious.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Katrina said with a growl as he smoothed the soap over her shoulder. She made to grab it from him, and failed. ‘Give me that!’
‘Why don’t you just relax?’
Relax? She was about as relaxed as a tightly coiled spring. ‘Don’t.’
His hands were effecting a soothing massage at the edge of her neck, and she gave a silent groan that was part pleasure, part despair as his fingers eased out the kinks, then shifted down her back, inch by blissful inch, then they began working their way up again.
It felt so good, she forgot her anger, the tension of the day, and she simply closed her eyes and relaxed beneath his touch.
He soaped every inch of her skin, slowly, and she sighed as his fingers trailed the contours of her breast, then travelled low over her hips.
‘We don’t have time for this.’
‘Yes, we do.’
His fingers slid towards her navel, then slipped down to tease the soft curling hair at the apex of her thighs…and stroked with unerring expertise.
‘We shouldn’t arrive late.’ She groaned as sensation began a slow spiral through her body.
‘No,’ Nicos murmured in agreement, shifting his hands to bring her close against him.
He lowered his mouth over hers, gently brushing his lips against her own, then he slid his tongue between her teeth and initiated a slow, sensual exploration that heated her blood and sent her pulse thudding to a quickened beat.
She slid her hands to his shoulders and clung as he deepened the kiss to something so incredibly erotic she lost track of time and place. There was just the two of them, and the magic that was theirs alone.
Nicos eased back from the brink of passion, softening his mouth as he trailed his lips over hers, pressing light kisses to each corner, the slightly swollen lower curve, before burying his mouth into the vulnerable hollow at the base of her neck.
How long did they remain like that? Five minutes? Ten? More?
Katrina felt wonderfully mellow, and filled with a lazy warmth that crept towards wanting more.
‘We should get out of here,’ she began to say tentatively, and felt his lips trail up to settle against her temple.
‘Uh-huh.’
She leaned forward and closed the water dial while Nicos snagged a towel, handing it to her before catching up another for himself.
The temptation to linger was great. Even greater was the need to stay in and not venture from the bedroom at all.
‘Later,’ Nicos promised, his eyes dark with slumbering passion as he pressed a finger to her lips.
The art exhibition was held in a city gallery, featuring up-and-coming artists among whom two were gaining coveted acclaim.
Katrina wandered among the strategically placed paintings, and gravitated towards one that had caught her eye.
There was something in the use of colours that reminded her of Monet and the garden theme he so loved to depict on canvas. Beautifully framed, it reminded her of the French countryside with its fresh fields and flowers.
‘Like it?’
‘Yes, I do.’ It would look perfect in her apartment. Or better yet, hanging on a wall in her office.
She moved on, aware Nicos had become caught up in conversation with a fellow business associate.
‘Dear Katrina, we do seem to garner invitations to the same events.’
‘Enrique.’ She acknowledged. ‘Why am I not surprised to see you here?’
‘I have contacts, connections,’ he relayed with a glib smile. ‘Schmoozing is the name of the game, and I excel at working a room.’
‘Alone?’
‘Young, budding artists aren’t Chloe’s thing. Have you thought about my offer?’
‘I don’t need to think. The answer, as always, is the same.’
‘Katrina,’ Enrique chastised, shaking his head. ‘I’m willing to trade information to your advantage.’
‘No.’
‘No?’ He waited