The Helen Bianchin Collection. Helen Bianchin

      Aysha cursed beneath her breath at the thought of playing a part beneath Nina’s watchful gaze. Worse, having to clash polite verbal swords with a woman whose vindictiveness was aimed to maim.

      The harbour, with its various coves and inlets provided a scenic beauty unsurpassed anywhere in Australia, and she focused on the numerous small craft anchored at various moorings, cliff-top mansions dotted in between foliage.

      Peak hour traffic had subsided, although it took the best part of an hour to reach their destination. A seemingly endless collection of long minutes when polite, meaningless conversation lapsed into silence.

      ‘I guess our presence tonight is essential?’

      Carlo cast her a direct look. ‘If you’re concerned Nina might be there... don’t be. She won’t have the opportunity to misbehave.’

      ‘Do you really think you’ll be able to stop her?’ Aysha queried cynically.

      He met her gaze for one full second, then returned his attention to the road. ‘Watch me.’

      ‘Oh, I intend to.’ It could prove to be an interesting evening.

      They reached the exclusive Palm Beach suburb at the appointed time, and Aysha viewed the number of cars lining the driveway with interest. At a guess there were at least thirty guests.

      Fifty, she re-calculated as their host drew them through the house and out onto the covered terrace.

      It was strictly smile-time, and she was so well versed in playing the part that it was almost second nature to circulate among the guests and exchange small-talk.

      A drink in one hand, she took a sip of excellent champagne and assured the hostess that almost every wedding detail was indeed organised, Claude, the wedding organiser, was indeed a gem, and, yes, she was desperately looking forward to the day.

      Details she repeated many times during the next hour. She was still holding on to her first glass of champagne, and she took a hot savoury from a proffered platter, then reached for another.

      ‘You missed dinner?’

      Aysha spared Carlo a slow, sweet smile. ‘How did you guess?’

      His mouth curved, and his dark eyes held a musing gleam. ‘You should have told me.’

      ‘Why?’

      The need to touch her was paramount, and he brushed fingertips down her cheek. ‘We could have stopped somewhere for a meal.’

      Her eyes flared, then dilated to resemble deep grey pools. ‘Please don’t.’

      ‘Am I intruding on a little tiff?’

      Aysha heard the words, recognised the feminine voice, and summoned a credible smile.

      ‘Nina.’

      Nina avidly examined Aysha’s features, then fastened on the object of her obsession. She pressed exquisitely lacquered nails against the sleeve of Carlo’s jacket. ‘Trouble in paradise, caro?’

      ‘What makes you think there might be?’ His voice was pleasant, but there was no mistaking the icy hardness in his eyes as he removed Nina’s hand from his arm.

      Her pout was contrived to portray a sultry sexiness. ‘Body language, darling.’

      ‘Really?’ The smile that curved his lips was a mere facsimile. ‘In that case I would suggest your expertise is sadly lacking.’

      Oh, my, Aysha applauded silently. If she could detach herself emotionally, the verbal parrying was shaping into an interesting bout.

      ‘You know that isn’t true.’

      ‘Only by reputation. Not by personal experience.’

      His voice was silk-encased steel, tempered to a dangerous edge. Only a fool would fail to recognise the folly of besting him.

      ‘Darling, really. Your memory is so short?’

      ‘We’ve frequented the same functions, sat at the same table. That’s all.’

      Nina spared Aysha a cursory glance. ‘If you say so.’ She gave a soft laugh and shook her head in telltale disbelief. ‘The question is... will Aysha believe you?’

      Aysha glimpsed the vindictive smile, registered the malevolence apparent in Nina’s sweeping glance, before she turned back towards Carlo.

      ‘Ciao, darlings. Have a happy life.’

      Aysha watched Nina’s sylph-like frame execute a deliberately evocative sway as she walked across the terrace.

      ‘I think I need some fresh air.’ And another glass of champagne. It might help dull the edges, and diminish the ugliness she’d just been witness to.

      Strong fingers closed over her wrist. ‘I’ll come with you.’

      ‘I’d rather go alone.’

      ‘And add to Nina’s satisfaction?’

      Bright lights lit the garden paths, and there were guests mingling around the pool area. Music filtered through a speaker system, and there was the sound of muted laughter.

      ‘Believe me, Nina’s satisfaction is the last thing I want to think about.’

      His grip on her hand tightened fractionally. ‘I’ve never had occasion to lie to you, cara.’ His eyes speared hers, fixing them mercilessly.

      ‘There’s always a first time for everything.’

      Carlo was silent for several long seconds. ‘I refuse to allow Nina’s malicious machinations to destroy our relationship.’

      The deadly softness of his voice should have warned her, but she was beyond analysing any nuances.

      ‘Relationship?’ Aysha challenged. ‘Let’s not delude ourselves our proposed union is anything other than a mutually beneficial business partnership.’ She was on a roll, the words tripping easily, fatalistically, from her tongue. ‘Cemented by holy matrimony in a bid to preserve a highly successful business empire for the next generation.’ Her smile was far too bright, her voice so brittle she scarcely recognised it as her own.

      Carlo’s appraisal was swift, and she was totally unprepared as he lifted her slender frame over one shoulder.

      An outraged gasp left her throat. ‘What in hell do you think you’re doing?’

      ‘Taking you home.’

      ‘Put me down.’

      His silence was uncompromising, and she beat a fist against his ribcage in sheer frustration. With little effect, for he didn’t release her until they reached the car.

      ‘You fiend!’ Aysha vented, uncaring of his ruthless expression as he unlocked the passenger door.

      ‘Get in the car,’ Carlo said hardily.

      Her eyes sparked furiously alive. ‘Don’t you dare give me orders.’

      He bit off a husky oath and pulled her in against him, then his head lowered and his mouth took punishing possession of her own.

      Aysha struggled fruitlessly for several seconds, then whimpered as he held fast her head. His tongue was an invasive force, and she hated her traitorous body for the way it began to respond.

      The hands which beat against each shoulder stilled and crept to link together at his nape. Her mouth softened, and she leaned in to him, uncaring that only seconds before anger had been her sole emotion.

      She sensed the slight shudder that ran through his large body, felt the hardening of his desire, and experienced the magnetising pulse of hunger in response.

      Aysha felt as if she was drowning, and she temporarily lost any sense of time or where they were until Carlo gradually loosened his hold.

      His lips trailed to the sensitive hollow at the edge