A Passionate Surrender. Helen Bianchin
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“I don’t want to sleep with you!”
“Perhaps not…tonight,” Luc insisted silkily.
“Not any night!”
“Brave words, Ana.”
Ana wanted to rail against him, hating the power he possessed and her inability to retaliate. She was caught in a web, tied to him by the child they’d conceived, and held there by family loyalty.
“Go to hell, Luc,” she said bitterly as he drew level.
Luc paused and caught hold of her chin, tilting it so she had little option but to meet his passionate gaze. “Careful, pedhaki mou. I might be tempted to take you there.”
Dear Reader,
Flowers signify so many emotions…they’re the gift of lovers, friends and family, in times of happiness, joy and sorrow. From the exotic to simple everyday blossoms, their textures, colors and perfumes blend together to bring pleasure to people all around the world.
I have an admiration for those who work in the floral industry, especially the talented florists whose skilled artistry turns varied blooms into beautiful bouquets. My writer’s imagination envisaged the lives of two sisters, Ana and Rebekah, who co-own a florist boutique in one of the trendiest suburbs of Sydney, Australia.
Ana is married to proud, powerful Luc Dimitriades—but one year into their marriage, his newly divorced ex-mistress returns, determined to reclaim Luc…
Rebekah is wary of men and determined to avoid falling in love again. But Luc’s cousin Jace Dimitriades plans to change her mind!
I hope you enjoy getting to know these two sisters, and the gorgeous tycoons who turn their world upside down!
With love
A Passionate Surrender
Helen Bianchin
MILLS & BOON
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For Helga,
friend and talented florist
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER ONE
‘CRISTOS.’
The husky imprecation held an angry silkiness as Luc Dimitriades tossed the faxed report down onto his desk.
Detailed surveillance of his wife’s movements during the past nine days revealed few surprises, although one caused his eyes to narrow with contemplative suspicion.
Reflex action had him reaching for his cellphone and keying in a series of digits.
‘Put me through to Marc Andreas,’ he instructed curtly as soon as the receptionist picked up.
‘Doctor has a patient with him.’
‘It’s urgent,’ he said without compunction, and identified himself. ‘He’ll take the call.’
Minutes later he had official confirmation, and his expression hardened as he reached for the inter-office phone.
Clear, concise instructions set his plan in motion, and after replacing the receiver he stood to his feet and crossed to the large plate-glass window.
The city and harbour spread out before him in splendid panorama. Sparkling blue sea, tall office buildings in varying height and design of concrete, steel and glass. Expensive two- and three-level mansions nestled between trees and shrubbery on a carved-out rock-face overlooking the inner harbour.
Small craft moored in safe anchorage dotting inlets and coves. The bustling water-cats and ferries vying with a huge tanker being guided by tugboats into berth. The familiar arch of Sydney’s bridge, the distinctive architecture of the opera house.
It was a familiar sight. Yet today he didn’t register the view. Nor the expensive furnishings, the genuine art gracing the walls of his luxurious office.
There was no pleasure of the scene evident in his broad, chiselled features, little emotion in his dark brooding gaze as he lapsed into reflective thought.
A brief marriage in his early twenties to his childhood sweetheart had ended tragically with Emma’s accidental death mere months after their wedding. Grief-stricken, he’d thrown himself into work, putting in long hours and achieving untold success in the business arena.
Remarriage wasn’t on his agenda. He’d loved and lost, and didn’t want to lose his heart again. For the past ten years he’d enjoyed a few selective relationships…no commitments, no empty words promising permanence.
Until Ana.
The daughter of one of his executives, she’d often partnered her widowed father to various functions. She was attractive, in her mid-twenties, intelligent and she possessed a delightful sense of humour. What was more, she wasn’t in awe of him, his status or his wealth.
They’d dated a few months, enjoyed each other in bed, and for the first time since Emma’s death there was an awareness of his own mortality, his accumulated wealth…the need to share his life with one woman, have children with her, forge a future together.
Who better than Ana in the role of his wife? He cared for her, she was eminently suitable, and he could provide her with an enviable lifestyle.
The wedding had been a low-key affair attended by immediate family, followed by a few weeks in Hawaii, after which they settled easily into day-today life.
A year on, the only blight on the horizon was Celine Moore, an ex-mistress, very recently divorced and hell-bent on causing mischief.
Luc’s mouth tightened into a grim line as he recalled the few occasions when Celine had deliberately orchestrated a compromising situation. Incidents he’d dealt with with skilled diplomacy and the warning to desist. Something Celine refused to heed, and her persistence became an issue Ana found difficult to condone.
Less than two weeks ago an argument over breakfast had ended badly, and he’d arrived home that evening to discover Ana had packed a bag and taken a flight to the Gold Coast.
The note she’d left him declared a need for a few days away to think things through.