The Greek Bridegroom. Helen Bianchin
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was a part of her that wanted to replace her cutlery, stand to her feet, and leave. Retreat to the safety of her car, return to her apartment with her sanity intact.
Except such an action was a cop-out, and besides, what excuse could she present? Act, she commanded silently. You deal with people every day in the shop and utilise psychological skill to handle difficult customers. How difficult could it be to deal with Jace Dimitriades for a few hours? There was the added advantage of Ana and Luc’s presence to provide a buffer. It should be a breeze.
Fat chance! She felt about as relaxed as a cat on hot bricks!
Why hadn’t she listened to her initial instinct and remained adamant at not doing this? Because she cared for her sister. At least, that was the simple answer. The more complex one didn’t bear contemplating.
Maybe some wine would loosen her nerves a little, and she indicated the wine steward could fill her glass. Seconds later she took an appreciative sip, and felt the grape’s delicate bouquet slip into her bloodstream.
It was a relief when the waiter presented the next course. Her appetite was non-existent, and although her meal was a decorative vision in cuisine artistry, her tastebuds appeared to be on strike.
Travelled south for the duration, she accorded with silent wry humour, aware to an alarming degree just where they’d chosen to settle.
Eat, she commanded silently. Focus on the food. The evening would eventually come to a close, and she’d never have to place herself in this position again.
She may as well have told herself to go jump over the moon for all the good it did, for she was supremely conscious of every movement he made. The economical use of his hands as he apportioned each morsel of food. The way the muscles at the edge of his jaw bunched as he ate. His hands were broad, tanned with a sprinkling of hair, the fingers tapered with neatly shaped nails.
How would those hands caress a woman’s skin? Lightly skim the silken surface, discover each pleasure pulse and linger there?
Her mind came to a screeching halt. What was the matter with her? She couldn’t blame the wine, for she’d only consumed a few sips, and alternated it with chilled water.
‘You have an early start in the morning?’ Luc queried solicitously.
Could she conceivably use that as an excuse to slip away soon? ‘I have to be at the flower market around four-thirty.’
Jace’s gaze narrowed. ‘Every day?’
‘Six out of seven.’ It didn’t bother her. Never had, for she was a morning person. However, after a fourteen-hour day on her feet anything less than six hours’ sleep and she was wrecked.
‘I’ll order coffee.’ Luc signalled the waiter, and she joined Ana in choosing tea, all too aware coffee would keep her awake. How long had they been here? Two hours? Three?
They were almost done, and within half an hour she’d be free to slip behind the wheel of her car and drive home.
Wonderful, she determined as Luc fixed the bill, and she stood to her feet, collected her evening purse, and followed Ana to the foyer.
Her skin prickled in awareness of Jace’s close proximity, and it took considerable effort to move at a leisurely pace. She could almost feel the warmth of his body, and her own stiffened at the light touch of his hand at the back of her waist as they gained the pavement.
‘I’ll see you to your car.’
‘I had a valet attendant park it for me.’
Ana tilted her face as Jace leant down to brush his lips to her cheek. ‘Luc and I can give you a lift back to the hotel.’
‘I’m sure Rebekah won’t mind.’ Jace straightened and shot his cousin a measured look. ‘I’ll be in touch tomorrow.’
Rebekah uttered a silent prayer that Luc would intercede, only the deity wasn’t listening. Ana leant forward and brushed her lips to her sister’s cheek, accepted Jace’s affectionate ‘Goodnight’, then she moved with Luc towards their car.
It was so smoothly effected, she could hardly believe she’d been cleverly manipulated. His hotel was en route to her apartment. Given she had to pass right by the main entrance, it would be churlish to refuse.
However, her mind screamed in silent denial as she waited for the attendant to fetch her car. She didn’t want to be alone with him, ever, and especially not in the close confines of her MG sports car.
What had prompted him to suggest it when she’d been so painstakingly polite all evening? She hadn’t flirted, or given him any reason to think she coveted his attention.
Dammit, just get in the car, drop him off at the hotel, then that’ll be the end of it. Ten, fifteen minutes was all it would take.
There wasn’t a lot of leg-room, and it gave her a degree of satisfaction as he folded his lengthy frame into the front passenger seat.
Rebekah didn’t waste a second, and she gained the street, then headed towards Double Bay. Idle conversation, simply for the sake of it, wasn’t on her agenda, and she didn’t offer a word as she took liberties with the speed limit.
Ten minutes and counting.
It was a beautiful late-spring evening, the dark sky a clear indigo sprinkled with stars. Cool, sharp temperatures promised another fine day, and she directed her mind to the shop’s orders and the stock she’d need to purchase from the markets.
It didn’t work, for she was supremely conscious of the man seated beside her. In the close confines of the car she was aware of the subtle tones of his cologne, the clean smell of his clothes…and the faint male muskiness that was his alone.
Rebekah felt the tell-tale prickle of her skin as her body began an unbidden response. There was warmth, and heat pooled deep inside, intensifying with damning speed as her pulse accelerated to a crazy beat.
His hand rested on one knee, which was close, much too close to the gear-shift, making it impossible not to touch him whenever she changed gears. Avoiding contact without appearing to do so required care, and she wondered if he sensed her disquiet.
What if he did, and he was silently amused? Oh, dammit, just drive. In another five minutes she’d be free of his disturbing presence.
One more set of traffic lights and she’d enter the outer fringes of suburban Double Bay. A sense of intense relief began to descend as she turned into the street housing the main entrance to his hotel, and she drew to a halt in the impressive forecourt.
A uniformed bellboy moved towards the car, and Rebekah turned towards Jace. ‘Goodnight.’
In one fluid movement he captured her face with his hands, then lowered his mouth to hers in an evocative kiss that invaded and seduced. All too brief, it held the promise of more.
Shocked surprise encompassed her features as he lifted his head, and her mouth parted, only to close again as he offered a huskily voiced au revoir before sliding out from the low-slung seat.
She caught the faint gleam in those dark eyes before he turned and walked towards the main entrance.
Damn him. What did he think he was playing at?
She moved the gear-stick with unnecessary force, then sent the car into the street. Her apartment was situated two blocks distant, and she reached it in record time, easing the MG down into the underground car park.
In the lift she castigated herself for not predicting Jace’s move. He’d bargained on the element of surprise, and had won.
So what did it matter? She was unlikely to see him again. But it irked unbearably he’d caught her unawares, and provided a not so subtle reminder that he was aware of her vulnerability, and, even more galling, susceptible to him.
She should have slapped his face. Would have, if his action hadn’t rendered her momentarily speechless.
Ten