Mistress By Contract. HELEN BIANCHIN

what she hadn’t anticipated was the verbal abuse that came with the demand.

      ‘Take it out of the bond security,’ Mikayla instructed smoothly, knowing too well the landlady would find fault and withhold all of it.

      Next, she packed everything she’d brought into the place, then she cleaned, scrubbed and tidied until her arms ached. At midnight she took a shower and fell into bed.

      Mikayla woke to heavy rain. An omen? she queried silently as she quickly dressed, and she ate breakfast on the run, aware any minute the landlady would arrive to do battle.

      A mild descriptive, Mikayla reflected half an hour later. Say goodbye to the bond security and furniture, the woman had it all sewn up.

      It took two trips to load her belongings into the Mini, and she walked out of the flat and didn’t look back.

      The umbrella didn’t shield her from the sleeting rain, and she got damp walking from the car park to class.

      Mikayla became increasingly tense as the day progressed, and when the final bell went ending class she was as wound up as a tightly coiled spring.

      At the hospital she checked with the ward’s nursing station, gave details of her change of address and phone number, then went in to visit Joshua.

      There was no change, and her heart bled a little for him.

      All day she’d thought of a way to tell him his debt to Rafael Velez-Aguilera had been waived. He didn’t need to know the truth, but he was still an astute man. She couldn’t fool him into believing she’d won the lottery, or somehow managed to find such an amount of money.

      In an agony of doubt, she weighed up the benefit of him knowing, or not knowing, and opted to go with a grain of honesty. Truth by omission, she acknowledged cynically.

      ‘I have some good news,’ Mikayla said gently as she pulled a chair close to his side. She took his hand in hers and soothed the slight agitated movement of his fingers against the bedcovers. ‘I’ve reason to believe Rafael Velez-Aguilera is not going to press charges against you.’

      His mouth trembled. ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘But the money—’

      He need never know. She’d make sure of it. ‘I think it’s going to be possible to work something out.’

      ‘Is that why he visited me?’

      Mikayla took hold of it like a drowning woman. ‘It’s most unlikely he’d have come otherwise.’

      ‘How?’

      She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘We’ll talk when I know more about it.’

      A nurse came by on her rounds, and within ten minutes the dinner cart arrived.

      ‘I’ll go,’ Mikayla said quietly. ‘Sleep well, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

      It was almost five-thirty when she edged the car out of the hospital grounds and headed towards suburban Woollahra. As she drew close she pulled over to the kerb and checked the street map, pinpointed where she needed to turn, then eased forward and picked up speed.

      Her stomach twisted into a painful knot when she sighted the given street name. Old trees bordered each side, their spreading branches showing the green of seasonal spring, and she drove slowly checking numbers until she came to a wide curving driveway protected by large ornate iron gates.

      They were closed. A security camera hovered on a tall pillar, and she drew the Mini to a halt, slid out and pressed the electronic button.

      Almost immediately the gate mechanism began to release, and by the time she slipped back behind the wheel she was able to drive through.

      Immaculate grounds, a beautiful Mediterranean double storied home, cream-plastered exterior, terra cotta and cream tiled roof, large curved windows.

      It was elegant, graceful, and she slowed to a halt beneath the tiled portico less than a metre behind Rafael’s Mercedes.

      This was it. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as she slid from the car. She was almost at the heavy panelled double doors when one opened and Rafael stood framed in the aperture.

      What did she say? Anything would sound banal, and she simply inclined her head, then turned to retrace her steps. ‘My stuff’s in the car.’

      He was there as she reached it, and he extracted both suitcases with an ease she could only admire.

      ‘I’ll bring the rest,’ she indicated. There was just her satchel, and two boxes of books.

      Combined, they represented all her possessions.

      ‘Leave the boxes,’ Rafael instructed. ‘I’ll bring them.’

      How did he think they got into the car in the first place? ‘I can manage.’

      ‘One,’ he conceded. ‘I’ll get the other.’

      ‘It’s okay.’

      She wasn’t even inside the door, and already they were at odds.

      ‘I wasn’t questioning your ability,’ he drawled. ‘Merely cautioning against injuring your arm.’

      The entrance foyer was large, tiled floor, mahogany cabinets placed in strategic positions against the walls. A wide curved ornate balustraded double staircase led to the upper floor and a magnificent crystal chandelier hung suspended from the ceiling. Wall friezes and sconces adorned the walls, together with works of art.