The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections. Louise Allen

can meet you at the airport.’ That way her car would be there when they returned.

      ‘Nine, Cassandra,’ he reiterated in a quiet drawl that brooked little argument, then he cut the connection.

      He was insufferable, she fumed as she returned to her workspace.

      The resentment didn’t diminish much as day became night, and she rose early, packed, put out sufficient dry food and water for the cat, then a few minutes before nine she took the lift down to Reception.

      The Gold Coast appeared at its sparkling best. Clear azure sky, late-spring warm temperatures, and sunshine.

      Diego picked up a hire car and within half an hour they reached the luxurious Palazzo Versace hotel complex.

      It was more than a year since Cassandra had last visited the Coast, and she adored the holiday atmosphere, the canal estates, the trendy sidewalk café’s and casual lifestyle.

      The hotel offered six-star accommodation, plus privately owned condominiums and several penthouse apartments.

      Why should she be surprised to discover Diego owned a penthouse here? Or that he’d elected to take the extra total designer furnishing package including bed coverings and cushions, towels, china, glass-ware and cutlery?

      The total look, she mused in admiration. Striking, expensive, and incredibly luxurious.

      There was a million-dollar view from the floor-to-ceiling glass walls, and she took a deep breath of fresh sea air as Diego slid open an external glass door.

      Delightful. But let’s not forget the reason he’s brought you here, an imp taunted silently.

      Bedroom duties. The thought should have filled her with antipathy, but instead there was a sense of anticipation at a raw primitive level to experience again the magical, mesmeric excitement he was able to evoke.

      Was it so wrong to want his touch, his possession without any emotional involvement other than the pleasure of the moment?

      Don’t kid yourself, she chided inwardly. Like it or not, you’re involved right up to your slender neck!

      After this weekend her life would return to normal…whatever normal meant. Work, she mused as Diego took their overnight bags through to the bedroom. The usual social activities…which would never be quite the same again as she encountered Diego partnering Alicia, or any one of several other women all too willing to share his evening. Dammit, his bed.

      How would she cope, imagining that muscular male body engaged in the exchange of sexual body fluids? The entanglement of limbs, the erotic pleasure of his mouth savouring warm feminine skin as he sought each sensual hollow, every intimate crevice?

      It would be killing, she admitted silently. Perhaps she could retreat into living the life of a social recluse, and simply bury herself in work.

      Except that would be accepting defeat, and she refused to contemplate a slide into negativity.

      For now, there was the day, and she intended to make the most of it. With or without him. The night he would claim as his, but meantime…

      Cassandra heard him re-enter the spacious lounge, and she lifted a hand and gestured to the view out over the Broadwater. ‘It’s beautiful here.’

      Diego moved to stand behind her, and she was supremely conscious of him. Her skin tingled in reaction to his body warmth, and the temptation to lean back against him was almost irresistible.

      ‘Do you spend much time here?’ It seemed almost a sacrilege to leave the apartment empty for long periods of time.

      ‘The occasional weekend,’ he drawled.

      But not often, she concluded, and wondered if and when he took a break to enjoy the fruits of his success. He possessed other homes, in other countries…perhaps he chose somewhere more exotic where he could relax and unwind.

      ‘Lunch,’ Diego indicated. ‘We can eat in the restaurant here, cross the road to the Sheraton Hotel, or explore nearby Tedder Avenue.’

      She turned towards him and saw he’d exchanged tailored trousers for shorts, and joggers replaced hand-tooled leather shoes.

      ‘You’re allowing me to choose?’

      ‘Don’t be facetious,’ he chided gently.

      ‘Tedder Avenue,’ Cassandra said without hesitation. ‘We can walk there.’ Half a kilometre was no distance at all.

      One eyebrow rose in quizzical humour. ‘You want exercise, I can think of something more athletic.’

      ‘Ah, but my sexual duties don’t begin until dark…remember?’

      He pressed an idle finger to the lower curve of her lip. ‘A sassy mouth could get you into trouble.’

      ‘In that case, I’ll freshen up and we can leave.’

      His husky laugh curled around her nerve-ends, pulled a little, then she stepped around him and walked through to the master bedroom.

      She took a few minutes to change into tailored shorts and blouse, then she snagged a cap, her shoulder bag, and re-entered the lounge.

      ‘Let’s hit the road.’

      It was a pleasant walk, the warmth of the sun tempered by a light breeze, and they settled on one of several pavement cafés, ordered, then ate with evident enjoyment.

      They were almost ready to leave when Diego’s cellphone buzzed, and she looked askance when he merely checked the screen and didn’t pick up.

      ‘It’ll go to message-bank.’

      ‘Perhaps you should take that,’ Cassandra said when it buzzed again a few minutes later.

      Diego merely shrugged and ignored a further insistent summons.

      Within a few minutes Cassandra’s cellphone buzzed from inside her bag, and she retrieved it, saw the unfamiliar number displayed, then engaged the call.

      ‘You’re with Diego.’ The feminine voice was tight with anger. ‘Aren’t you?’

      Oh, lord. ‘Alicia?’

      ‘He’s taken you to the Coast for the weekend, hasn’t he?’

      ‘What makes you think that?’

      ‘Fundamental mathematics.’

      ‘No chance you might be wrong?’

      ‘Darling, I’ve already checked. Diego picked you up from your apartment this morning.’

      Counting to ten wouldn’t do it. Hell, even twenty wouldn’t come close. ‘You have a problem,’ Cassandra managed evenly.

      ‘You in Diego’s life is the problem.’

      ‘I suggest you discuss it with him.’

      ‘Oh, I intend to.’

      She cut the connection and met Diego’s steady gaze with equanimity. ‘You owe Alicia an explanation.’

      ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t.’

      ‘She seems to think you do.’

      The waitress presented the bill, which he paid, adding a tip, then when she left he sank back in his chair and subjected Cassandra to an unwavering appraisal.

      ‘Whatever Alicia and I shared ended several months ago.’

      She raised an eyebrow and offered him a cynical smile. ‘Yet you continue to date her?’

      ‘We have mutual friends, we receive the same invitations.’ He lifted his shoulders in a negligible shrug. ‘Alicia likes to give the impression we retain a friendship.’

      She couldn’t help herself. ‘Something she manages to do very well.’

      Diego’s