The Marriage Possession. HELEN BIANCHIN
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The Marriage Possession
Helen Bianchin
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Coming Next Month
CHAPTER ONE
THE legal soirée was invitation-only, hosted in a luxurious hotel and presented for the city’s legal eagles and their partners.
Judges, barristers and eminent lawyers of note. Where friendships flourished and opponents left the rigours of the court-room behind.
‘More champagne?’
The familiar male drawl had the power to quicken Lisane’s heartbeat…and more, so much more.
Lisane tilted her head a little, met Zac’s dark, gleaming eyes, and almost drowned in their depths. ‘Do I appear to need it?’
A loaded query, if ever there was one!
Mingling with her peers would be a breeze in comparison with the formal dinner, where seating arrangements would place her at Zac’s side in the company of his parents, and Allegra Fabrisi, their preferred choice of a partner for their son.
Tonight she would field empty compliments, the brilliant female smiles that didn’t reach the eyes…each of which were a mere salutation in deference to attract the attention of the man at her side.
Zacharias Winstone, wealthy in his own right, a prominent barrister and son of an eminent judge, he was the embodiment of everything that was charismatic male.
In his late thirties, tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, broad-shouldered, wide-boned, sculptured features, a sensual mouth and piercing dark eyes, didn’t come close to describing the inherent sensuality he projected with effortless ease.
Zac, the babe magnet.
One had only to look at him to know he could drive a woman wild. It was there in his eyes, the faint, teasing smile…the promise, simmering beneath the sophisticated façade.
Women undressed him with one lingering, seductive look, and blatantly moved in for the kill. For some it was a challenge, others had more serious plans in mind…So far none had been successful.
For the moment he was hers. Friend, lover…
Commitment wasn’t a word Zac mentioned and marriage didn’t enter the equation.
Relationship? Lisane pondered the word, sought its true meaning, and failed to pin it down.
Together…for now, seemed appropriate.
A pensive smile tilted the edge of her mouth.
It was enough…wasn’t it?
They shared much, yet in many ways were poles apart.
His wealth earned him a position on an accredited list of Australia’s wealthiest names, while she came from an ordinary family of humble means and her education had been gained via scholarships and part-time work to help pay expenses.
Within the legal profession, Zac was recognised as one of the best in his field of criminal law…while Lisane occupied a position in the Crown Prosecutor’s office.
He had chambers in Brisbane, resided in a city apartment and owned a magnificent waterfront mansion on Sovereign Islands, an élite suburb on Queensland’s Gold Coast, seventy kilometres distant.
Vastly different from the small, weathered cottage in fashionable suburban Milton that Lisane had bought, mortgaged and was in the process of renovating.
A Sydney-based girl of French-born parents, she’d relocated to Brisbane a year ago…a move due in part to the need for change. And the desire to remove herself from what had become an awkward situation.
Two couples…two blonde, blue-eyed sisters dating two brothers. Except whereas Solene and Jean-Claude had fallen in love and planned to marry, Lisane didn’t share the same feelings for Alain. Friendship, yes, and affection. But not love.
Something it had taken a while to divine, given the almost life-long connection. Solene’s engagement to Jean-Claude had prompted Alain’s marriage proposal, and Lisane accepted his ring, temporarily caught up in Alain’s persuasion and her sister’s euphoria…only to have doubt soon cloud her perspective.
It hadn’t been easy to break off the engagement, nor to leave the city of her birth. Except it wouldn’t have been fair to Alain to stay.
He deserved more. So did she.
The law had fascinated Lisane from an early age, fostered and shaped by gritty television police and court-room dramas…none of which bore much resemblance to reality, she reflected with a tinge of wry amusement.
At twenty-seven, she hadn’t found it difficult to settle into a new job in a different city. In many ways she’d relished the changes, new faces, forming tentative friendships…and running into Zac.
Literally. Three days after assuming her position in the Crown Prosecutor’s office.
The momentous occasion had occurred in the city courthouse when she exited from the lift on the wrong floor.
It had taken only seconds to realise her mistake, and she’d swiftly turned…only to collide with a hard male frame.
An immediate apology had left her lips, and in the same instant she became aware of the man’s physical impact…his impressive height, breadth of shoulder, his sculptured facial features. Not to mention the fine quality of his clothing, the faint aroma of his cologne. The slight smile curving his sensuously moulded mouth. And foremost, his indisputable aura of power.
Definitely off the Richter scale in terms of the wow factor, she had acknowledged a few minutes later as she rode the lift to the correct floor.
Who was he?
Discovery hadn’t taken long. The family Winstone was well-known in legal and social circles. Zac Winstone was a legend in both.
The fact he sought her out had seemed little short of amazing. So, too, had his invitation to join him for coffee. A week or two later it had been followed by dinner, then a show…
‘Pleasant thoughts, I hope?’
Lisane spared him a stunning smile. ‘Why shouldn’t they be?’
He was something else. Tuned in to her in a way that made her wonder if he’d become adept at reading her mind. Although pure people skills, the ability to weigh up character traits and successfully divine them, contributed much to his success in the court-room. Very little, if anything, seemed to escape him.
Zac curled his fingers through her own, and leant in close. ‘Just remember I get to take you home.’
A teasing light entered her eyes. ‘That’s supposed to see me through the next few hours?’
‘It won’t?’
His place or hers. It hardly mattered which, as long as they shared what remained of the night together.
‘The jury’s still out.’
His soft laughter almost