Greek's Pride. Helen Bianchin
an alliance made in heaven.’ Alyse sipped from a glass of superb white wine. ‘If you expect me to indulge in calculated displays of affection, forget it.’
He spooned the last of his minestrone, then waited for her to finish.
‘I’d prefer to help myself,’ Alyse said at once, knowing he’d serve her a far too generous portion. She wasn’t very hungry, and merely selected a few vegetables, then toyed with dessert.
‘There are numerous friends and business associates who will be anxious to meet you, and a party next Saturday evening will provide an excellent opportunity.’ He leaned back in his chair and surveyed her with a veiled scrutiny. ‘I’ll organise the caterers.’
She got to her feet and began stacking plates, unable to prevent a flaring of resentment as he lent his assistance.
‘I can manage,’ she said stiffly, hating his close proximity within the large kitchen.
‘I’ll rinse, you can load the dishwasher,’ Aleksi told her, and she gritted her teeth in the knowledge that his actions were deliberate.
‘You now have a wife to take care of all this,’ Alyse voiced sweetly. ‘Why not relax in the lounge with an after-dinner port, or retire to your study?’
‘So you can pretend I don’t exist?’
Oh, he was too clever by far! ‘Yes, damn you.’
Dark eyes gleamed with ill-concealed humour. ‘No one would guess a firebrand exists beneath that cool façade,’ he mused cynically, causing her resentment to flare.
‘I didn’t possess a temper until you forced your way into my life!’
‘Forced, Alyse?’ he queried with soft emphasis. ‘I’ve never had to coerce a woman into anything.’
His implication was intentional, and Alyse quite suddenly had had enough. Placing the plate she held carefully on to the bench, she turned and made to move past him.
‘Since you obviously believe in equality, you finish the dishes. I’m going for a walk.’
‘In the dark, and alone?’
Her eyes flared with brilliant blue fire. ‘I need some fresh air, but most of all, I need a temporary escape from you!’
‘No, Alyse.’ His voice sounded like silk being razed by tensile steel, and she reacted without thought, hardly aware of her hand swinging in a swift arc until it connected with a resounding slap on the side of his jaw.
For a wild moment she thought he meant to strike her back, and she cried out as he caught hold of her hands and drew her inextricably close. Any attempt to struggle was defeated the instant it began, and after several futile minutes she simply stood in defiant silence.
Her pulse tripped its beat and measurably quickened at the degree of icy anger apparent. He possessed sufficient strength to break her wrists, and she flinched as he tightened his grasp. ‘You’re hurting me!’
‘If you continue this kind of foolish behaviour, believe me, you will get hurt.’
His threat wasn’t an idle one, yet she stood defiant beneath his compelling gaze. ‘That’s precisely the type of chauvinistic threat I’d expect you to make!’
With slow deliberation he released her wrists and slid his hands up to her shoulders, impelling her forward, then his mouth was on hers, hard and possessively demanding.
Alyse clenched her teeth against his intended invasion, and a silent scream rose and died in her throat beneath the relentless determined pressure. She began to struggle, flailing her fists against his arms, his ribs—anywhere she could connect in an effort to break free.
She gave a muffled moan of entreaty as he effortlessly caught hold of her hands and held them together behind her back—an action that brought her even closer against his hard masculine frame, and there was nothing she could do to prevent the hand that slid to her breast.
A soundless gasp escaped her lips as she felt his fingers slip the buttons on her blouse, then slide beneath the silk of her bra. She wanted to scream in outrage as his mouth forced open her own, and his tongue became a pillaging, destructive force that had her silently begging him to stop.
When he finally released her, she swayed and almost fell, and a husky oath burned her ears in explicit, softly explosive force.
Her lips felt numb and swollen, and she unconsciously began a tentative seeking exploration with the tip of her tongue, discovering ravaged tissues that had been heartlessly ground against her teeth.
Firm fingers lifted her chin, and her lashes swiftly lowered in automatic self-defence against the hurt and humiliation she knew to be evident in their depths.
Standing quite still, she bore his silent scrutiny until every nerve stretched to its furthest limitation.
‘Let me go. Please.’ She had to get away from him before the ache behind her eyes manifested itself in silent futile tears.
Without a word he released her, watching as she slowly turned and walked from the room.
The temptation to run was paramount, except where could she run to that he wouldn’t follow? A hollow laugh choked in her throat as she ascended the stairs. Escape, even temporary, afforded her a necessary respite, and uncaring of Aleksi’s objection to her move upstairs, she crept into Georg’s room and silently undressed.
It wasn’t fair—nothing was fair, she decided as she lay quietly in bed. Sleep was never more distant, and despite her resolve it was impossible not to dwell on the fact that the day after tomorrow Aleksi’s parents would arrive. An event she wasn’t sure whether to view with relief or despair.
A silent scream rose to the surface as she heard an imperceptible click, followed by the inward swing of the bedroom door. Anger replaced fright as she saw Aleksi’s tall frame outlined against the aperture, and she unconsciously drew the covers more firmly about her shoulders.
She watched in horrified fascination as he crossed to the cot and carefully transferred Georg on to the bed beside her.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she vented in a sibilant whisper.
‘I imagine it’s perfectly clear,’ he drawled as he effortlessly picked up the cot and carried it from the room.
Within minutes he was back, and she stared in disbelief as he scooped the baby into his arms. At the door he turned slightly to face her.
‘You can walk, or be carried,’ he said quietly. ‘The choice is yours.’
Then he was gone, and Alyse was left seething with helpless anger. Choice? What choice did she have, for heaven’s sake! Yet she was damned if she’d meekly follow him downstairs and slip into bed, defeated.
With each passing second she was aware of her own foolishness; to thwart him was the height of folly, and would doubtless bring retribution of a kind she would be infinitely wise to avoid. Except that wisdom, at this precise moment, was not high on her list.
Fool, an inner voice cautioned. Fool. Haven’t you suffered enough punishment already, without wilfully setting yourself up for more?
Even as she considered capitulation, Aleksi re-entered the room, and she held his narrowed gaze with undisguised defiance as he moved to the side of the bed.
Without a word he wrenched the covers from her grasp, then leant forward and lifted her into his arms.
Alyse struggled, hating the ease with which he held her. ‘Put me down, you fiend!’
‘I can only wonder when you’ll learn that to oppose me is a totally useless exercise,’ he said cynically, catching one flailing fist and restraining it with galling ease.
‘If you’re hoping for meek subservience, it will never happen!’ Dear lord, he was strong; any movement she made was immediately rendered