Forgotten Husband. HELEN BIANCHIN

was something incredibly erotic about glistening water droplets caught in male body-hair, the fluid grace of strongly honed muscle-fibre moving beneath satiny, lightly bronzed skin.

      The degree of restrained power in repose was an intensely disturbing entity, and her fingers shook as she caught up a brush and stroked it vigorously through the length of her hair, increasingly aware of his every action as he towelled himself dry.

      As he reached for a black silk robe she stepped quickly into the bedroom, almost succeeding in donning her nightgown before firm fingers eased the straps over her injured hand, and she stood helplessly still as the silk hem whispered down past her hips.

      Impotent resentment darkened her eyes, and Alejandro cast her a long, thoughtful look which she found increasingly difficult to hold as the seconds ticked slowly by.

      He lifted a hand and slid firm fingers beneath the hair at her nape, then in seeming slow motion his mouth claimed hers with an element of possession she instinctively knew would harden should she attempt to pull free of him, and she swallowed convulsively as pleasure overtook warmth, touching each nerve-end as it coursed through her body.

      She felt strangely afraid—not of him, but of herself, and the wild sweetness that swirled within, encouraging a response she was hesitant to give.

      His tongue sought out every secret recess, every ridge, before lightly stroking her own tongue in an erotic dance that reached deep into her feminine core, unleashing emotions almost beyond her control.

      She was slowly melting, awash in a sea of delicious sensation, totally unaware of voicing a faint murmur of regret as he slowly lifted his mouth from her own.

      ‘Into bed, querida,’ Alejandro bade firmly.

      Within minutes of her head touching the pillow her eyes became heavy, and it was easier to give in to somnolence than fight it.

      Alejandro stood for a long time in contemplative silence, his gaze dark and brooding as he surveyed her finely boned features, the sweep of blonde hair, the delicate texture of her skin, the long, thick eyelashes and the sweet curve of her generous mouth, softly swollen from his kiss.

      A muscle tightened at the edge of his jaw, then he reached forward and switched off the lamp on the nearby pedestal before crossing to the other side of the bed to ease his long body carefully between the sheets.

      Seconds later he snapped off his own lamp, and focused his attention on the shadowed ceiling.

       CHAPTER THREE

      THE heat of the summer sun was reduced to a comfortable level by the car’s air-conditioning, and Elise leaned back against the leather-cushioned seat as Alejandro slotted a disc into the stereo system.

      ‘This is a beautiful car,’ she commented with genuine appreciation as it swept noiselessly along the arterial road heading north.

      ‘A Bentley,’ he enlightened her, shooting her an amused glance.

      ‘It looks expensive.’ The words slipped out unbidden, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

      ‘A luxury that affords me pleasure,’ he responded in a soft drawl that sent a shivery sensation feathering down the length of her spine.

      As I do? Is that all I am to you…a possession?

      Permitting her thoughts to travel such a path was both fruitless and detrimental; it served no purpose.

      ‘You have been remarkably docile all morning,’ he relayed musingly. ‘I could almost believe you are treading eggshells.’

      ‘I woke early, and couldn’t get back to sleep,’ she proffered, for it was no less than the truth.

      He slanted her a frowning glance. ‘You should have woken me.’

      ‘Why?’ She attempted a smile, and almost made it. ‘So we could both have lain awake?’ How could she tell him that she had experienced a gamut of emotions as she had watched him sleep? His strongly etched features had been barely visible in the darkness and then, as the dawn sky began to lighten the room, she had been held spellbound by the stark beauty of his countenance in repose. The harshness was gone, his jaw and mouth relaxed, and his lashes curled slightly, their length and shape dark and lustrous. Fascinated, she had wanted to reach out and place a finger against the edge of his mouth, to trace a slow pattern over the firm curve and watch him stir into wakefulness, to open his eyes and witness their warmth as he caught sight of her. Instead, she had feigned sleep the instant he looked like rousing, and only stilled the pretence when she had felt him rise from the bed.

      Afterwards she had managed to dress herself, and on descending the stairs a startled Ana had immediately led her out on to the terrace to join Alejandro for breakfast.

      ‘The car I was driving…was it badly damaged?’

      Alejandro slowed the Bentley to a halt at a set of traffic-lights, then turned to slant her a probing glance.

      ‘You are more important to me than any vehicle.’

      Was she? ‘You didn’t answer the question.’

      ‘It will be several weeks before you gain medical clearance to get behind the wheel of a car. And, when you do, it won’t be a fashionable sports model. Meantime, José can drive you wherever you need to go.’

      She looked at him in stunned silence for several seconds before venturing in protest, ‘You can’t be serious.’

      ‘Unequivocally.’

      Elise added another quality to his character. Inflexibility. ‘Are you usually this…overbearing?’

      ‘Protective,’ he corrected. ‘You could have lost the child. Worse, I could have lost you.’

      The lights changed, and his attention returned to the road ahead. As the Bentley gathered speed Elise evinced an interest in the passing scenery.

      There were many coves and inlets, picturesque beaches, crisp sand, softly waving tree-branches stirring beneath a gentle breeze, and an expanse of glorious blue sea that stretched out to the horizon to merge with the sky.

      ‘How long before we reach Palm Beach?’

      ‘About forty minutes, depending on traffic.’

      It was just after midday when Alejandro swung the car into a driveway leading to an imposing double-storeyed house overlooking the ocean.

      It was the antithesis of what she had imagined a beach-house to be, and once inside there was a sense of unreality as he led her through several rooms on the lower floor. Beautifully furnished, it was almost as magnificent as the Point Piper mansion. There was even a swimming-pool adjacent to the terracealmost a decadent addition, given the accessibility of the ocean a few short steps distant.

      The upper floor held four bedrooms with en suite facilities, and as she followed Alejandro into the largest suite Elise couldn’t help but wonder how frequently he made use of the house.

      ‘Do you come here often?’ she queried, watching as he deposited their bags.

      ‘Whenever I can manage a few days away.’

      Crossing to the large picture window, she moved the curtain fractionally to admire the view. Sundappled water, a few cruisers anchored offshore, young children, supervised by their mothers, playing happily in the sand. ‘It looks so peaceful.’

      She sensed rather than heard him move to stand behind her, and sensation stirred deep within, lending an awareness that made her feel acutely vulnerable. His body warmth seemed to enfold her, and all the fine hairs on her skin rose up in instinctive self-defence.

      ‘The precise reason why I bought the place,’ he told her.

      ‘An escape from the wheeling and dealing of high-powered executive city living?’

      Was