Greek's Pride. Helen Bianchin
looked the epitome of male sophistication attired in a formal dark suit. Exuding more than his fair share of dynamic masculinity, he had an element of tensile steel beneath the polite veneer, a formidableness and sense of purpose that was daunting.
‘Alyse.’ There was an edge of mockery apparent, and she met his gaze with fearless disregard, blindly ignoring the increased tempo of her heartbeat.
Just a glance at the sensual curve of his mouth was enough to remember how it felt to be positively absorbed by the man, for no one in their wildest imagination could term what he had subjected her to as merely a kiss.
Conscious of his narrowed gaze, Alyse stood aside to allow him entry, acknowledging politely, ‘Mr Stefanos.’
‘Surely you can force yourself to say Aleksi?’ he chastised with ill-concealed mockery.
Alyse choked back a swift refusal. Steady, she cautioned—anger will get you precisely nowhere. Opting for the line of least resistance, she ventured evenly, ‘If you insist.’ Remembering her manners, she indicated the lounge. ‘Please come in. Would you care for a drink?’
‘Unless you’d prefer one, I suggest we leave,’ he countered smoothly. ‘I’ve booked a table for six-thirty.’
Without a further word she preceded him to the car, allowing him to reach forward and open the door, and she slid into the passenger seat, aware of his close proximity seconds later as he slipped in behind the wheel and set the large vehicle in motion.
‘Where are we dining?’ As a conversational gambit, it was sadly lacking in originality, but anything was better than silence, Alyse decided wildly as they joined the flow of traffic leading into the city.
‘My hotel.’
She turned towards him in thinly veiled astonishment. ‘I could have met you there.’
‘Thus preserving feminine independence?’ Aleksi mocked as he spared her a quick assessing appraisal before returning his attention to the computer-controlled intersection.
‘I’ll take a cab home.’
One eyebrow quirked in visible amusement as the lights changed, and he eased the car forward. ‘Impossible,’ he declared smoothly, and she felt like hitting him for appearing so damnably implacable.
‘Would it dent your chauvinistic male ego?’ she queried sweetly, and heard his soft laughter.
‘Not in the least. However, as my fiancée and soon-to-be wife, you can’t be permitted.’
She closed her eyes, then slowly opened them seconds later. It was the only defence she had in masking the incredible fury she harboured against him.
As if he sensed her inner battle, he slid a tape into the cassette-deck, and she leaned back against the headrest, her eyes fixed on the tall city buildings and the wide sweep of river.
Alyse was familiar with the hotel, if not the restaurant, and when they were seated she permitted Aleksi to fill an elegant flute with Dom Perignon, sipping the superb champagne in the hope that it might afford her a measure of courage to face the evening ahead.
Aleksi conferred with the waiter over the menu, asking her what she wanted before placing their order, then he leaned well back in his chair and subjected her to a veiled scrutiny.
‘Aren’t you in the least curious to learn what arrangements I’ve made?’
She lifted her glass and took a generous swallow before replacing it on the table. ‘I have no doubt you’ll reveal them soon enough.’ Tiny aerated bubbles of alcohol set up a tingling warmth inside her stomach and began transporting them through every vein in her body.
‘We have an eleven o’clock appointment with the register office on Thursday, followed by a consultation with Hugh Mannering at two, and at three we’re due to present ourselves at the Family Services Department. On Friday we catch the late morning flight en route to the Coast,’ he informed her cynically.
The enormity of what she was about to undertake seemed to assume gigantic proportions, and she suffered his raking scrutiny with unblinking solemnity.
‘This is no time for second thoughts,’ Aleksi stated in a voice that was silky-smooth and infinitely dangerous. ‘The reason for a marriage between us is obvious,’ he declared hardily, ‘and will be accepted as such.’
‘Am I supposed to get down on my knees and kiss your feet in sheer gratitude for the privilege?’ Her voice dripped ice, and she saw his blue-grey eyes assume a chilling ruthlessness.
‘Careful,’ he warned dangerously. ‘I insist we present a veneer of politeness in the company of others.’ He directed her a swift calculated appraisal that sent shivers of fear scudding the length of her spine. ‘In private you can fight me as much as you like.’
‘In private,’ she conceded with ill-concealed fury, ‘I shall probably render you grievous bodily harm!’
‘Don’t expect me not to retaliate,’ he drawled.
‘Do that, and I’ll have you up for assault!’
His eyes narrowed and assumed the hue of a dark storm-tossed sea. ‘I wasn’t aware I alluded to physical abuse.’
Her eyes widened into huge pools of incredulity as comprehension dawned, and she fought valiantly against an all-encompassing anger. ‘Abuse is still an ugly word, whether it be mental or physical,’ she said tightly.
‘Then perhaps you would be advised to keep a rein on your temper.’
‘I must have been mad to agree to any alliance with you!’ she declared bitterly, sure she’d become a victim of temporary insanity.
‘Georg is the crux,’ Aleksi remarked cynically, and she cried out in vengeful disavowal,
‘I don’t have much choice, damn you!’
‘I offered you the opportunity of assuming the role of Georg’s mother.’
‘The only problem is that you form part of the package!’
‘Oh, it mightn’t be too bad.’ His smile was totally lacking in humour. ‘I live in a beautiful home—a showcase to display my expertise within the building industry. I enjoy the company of a close circle of friends, and frequently entertain. The Gold Coast is far from dull. I’m sure you’ll manage to amuse yourself.’
‘When do you intend informing your parents of our impending marriage?’ asked Alyse.
‘I already have,’ he drawled with hateful cynicism. ‘They’re delighted that we’ve chosen such a sensible solution.’
‘Are your parents visiting for very long?’
‘Question-and-answer time, Alyse? Or simply sheer curiosity?’
An angry flush crept over her cheeks, and her eyes sparked with brilliant blue fire. ‘I imagined it was a legitimate query.’ If they’d been alone, she would have thrown the contents of her glass in his face. ‘Perhaps I should opt for silence.’
‘Apparent subservience?’ he queried sardonically. ‘Somehow I can’t perceive you acquiring that particular mantle.’
‘No,’ Alyse agreed coolly out of deference to the waiter, who deftly removed their plates and busied himself serving the main course.
The grilled fish with hollandaise sauce and accompanying assortment of vegetables was assembled with artistic flair and infinitely tempting to the most discerning palate. Yet she was so incredibly angry she was hard pressed to do the course the justice it deserved. Afterwards she declined dessert and the cheeseboard, and simply opted for coffee, noting with silent rage that Aleksi Stefanos’s appetite appeared totally unaffected.
‘Perhaps you could bring yourself to tell me what progress you have made?’ he suggested.
Alyse met his gaze with fearless