MICHELLE woke at dawn to the sound of male voices and lifted her head in alarm, only to subside as realisation affirmed the television was on and the voice belonged to actor Don Johnson as Sonny in a rerun of ‘Miami Vice.’
Her limbs felt stiff, and she stretched in an effort to ease them, then she checked her watch.
There was time for a swim in the indoor pool, then she’d shower and change, grab some breakfast, and drive to the Gallery.
It was almost nine when she swung the Porsche into a parking bay, and she used her key to unlock the outer Gallery door.
‘Buon giorno.’
‘Hi,’ she greeted, and cast Emilio an appreciative smile as she saw the fruits of his labour in highly polished floors and everything restored to immaculate order. ‘You’re an angel.’
‘Ah, from you that is indeed a compliment.’
‘I mean it.’
The corners of his eyes crinkled with humour, and his smile was warm and generous. ‘I know you do.’
‘As you’ve cleaned up, I’ll do the book work, enter the accounts, make the phone calls.’
‘But first, the coffee.’ He moved towards her and caught hold of her shoulders, then frowned as he saw
her wince. His eyes narrowed as he glimpsed the shadows beneath her eyes. ‘Headache, no sleep, what?’
‘A bit of all three.’
She bore his scrutiny with equanimity. ‘Elaborate on the what, Michelle.’
Emilio called her darling, honey, cara, but rarely Michelle.
‘It was such a successful evening,’ she prevaricated.
‘Uh-huh,’ he disclaimed. ‘We’ve achieved other successful evenings, none of which have seen you pale, wan, and hollow-eyed the next morning.’
She opted to go for the truth. Or as much of it as he needed to know. ‘I watched a film on cable, then fell asleep in the lounge.’ She arched her neck, and rolled her head a little. ‘I’m a little stiff, that’s all.’
He didn’t say anything for several long seconds. ‘Nice try, cara.’
‘You mentioned coffee?’
Michelle took hers into the office, and set to work entering details from yesterday’s sales into the computer. She double-checked the receipts and entries before printing out the accounts, then stacked them in alphabetical order. A few of their regular clientele had paid by personal cheque, and she organised the banking deposit sheet.
She made telephone calls and arranged packing and delivery, then checked with the clientele to ascertain if the times quoted were convenient.
When the intercom beeped, she activated it. ‘Yes, Emilio?’
‘Jeremy Bateson-Burrows is here. Shall I send him in?’
‘No.’ Her refusal was swift, and she breathed in deeply before qualifying, ‘I don’t want to see him.’
A minute later the intercom beeped again. ‘He says it’s of vital importance.’
Michelle cursed beneath her breath. ‘Tell him I’ll be down in a minute.’
Her stiletto heels made a clicking noise on the polished floor, and she saw Jeremy turn towards her as she drew close.
Emilio was within sight some distance away arranging a display of decorative ceramic urns.
‘Jeremy,’ she greeted with cool formality.
‘I wanted to apologise in person.’
Careful, an inner voice cautioned. ‘It’s a little too late for that,’ she said evenly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have a considerable amount of work to get through.’
‘I need to talk to you, to explain. Have lunch with me. Please?’ He was very convincing. Too convincing. ‘I don’t know what came over me last night,’ he said desperately.
‘I’d like you to leave. Now,’ Michelle said quietly.
He reached out a hand as if to touch her arm, and she stepped back a few paces.
‘Michelle.’
Emilio’s intrusion was heaven-sent, and she turned towards him in silent query.
‘I’m in the middle of an international call,’ Emilio announced smoothly. ‘Nikos Alessandros has arrived
to arrange delivery and payment. Can you attend to him?’
He held the mobile phone, and she almost believed him until she glimpsed the dark stillness apparent in his expression.
‘Yes, of course.’
Nikos watched as she walked towards him, and controlled the brief surge of anger as she drew close. She looked as fragile as the finest glass.
‘Good morning.’ Or was it afternoon? Hell, she’d lost track of whether it was one or the other.
His eyes met hers, dark, analytical, unwavering, and her eyes widened slightly as he leaned forward and cupped her face with both hands.
His mouth covered hers with a gentleness that made the breath catch in her throat, and she was unable to suppress the shivery sensation scudding down her spine as his tongue softly explored the delicate tissues, slowly traced each abrasion, then tangled briefly with her tongue before withdrawing.
He let both hands drop to his side, then he circled her waist and drew her close.
‘What’s going on? Michelle?’ Jeremy’s voice was hard and filled with querulous anger.
Nikos’ arm tightened fractionally in silent warning, and the look he cast down at her was warm and incredibly intimate. ‘I don’t see the need to keep it a secret, do you?’ He shifted his attention to Emilio. ‘Michelle and I have decided to resume our relationship.’
She heard the words, assimilated them, and didn’t
have a chance to draw breath as Nikos soundly kissed her.
Why did she have the feeling she was one of three players on a stage, with an audience of only one? Because that was the precise scenario, and it came as no surprise when Jeremy brushed past them and exited the Gallery.
Emilio locked the door after him and turned the “open” sign round to read “closed.”
‘You can’t do that,’ Michelle protested.
‘I just did. So what are you going to do about it?’ Emilio queried lightly, adding m jest—‘Sue me?’
She looked from one to the other, then fixed her gaze on Nikos. ‘You’ve really put the fat in the fire now.’ Reaction began to rear its head. ‘Do you realise the news will probably reach my parents? What will they think?’ She closed her eyes, then opened them again in the knowledge that her darling maman would undoubtedly be delighted. Another thought rose to the fore, and her expression became fierce. ‘This situation plays right into your hands with Saska, doesn’t it?’
‘Who is Saska?’ Emilio asked with interest, and Nikos informed him urbanely.
‘The recently widowed wife of a very close friend.’
‘Whom Nikos suggested I collaborate with him to deceive,’ Michelle added.
‘Ah,’ Emilio commented with a shrug in comprehension. ‘But you wouldn’t play, huh?’
‘No, she wouldn’t,’ Nikos said smoothly.
A wide smile showed white teeth and lent dark
eyes a lively sparkle. ‘I think you should, cara. Play,’ Emilio added quizzically. ‘It would do you good.’
‘Emilio,’ Michelle warned. ‘I don’t find this in the least amusing.’
‘No, darling, I don’t expect you do.’ His expression sobered slightly. Jeremy was the catalyst, and Nikos, unless he was mistaken, was a man with a hidden agenda. ‘You’ll forgive me if I say I shall enjoy the show?’ He didn’t give her the opportunity to respond.
‘I don’t need to tell you that your secret is safe with me. Now, why don’t you go have lunch together, and fine tune your strategy?’
‘Yes,’ Nikos agreed. ‘Why don’t we do that?’
She cast him a discerning look, opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. ‘I’ll get my bag.’ She crossed to the office, retrieved it, then swung back to the entrance.
Emilio was talking into the mobile phone, and she fluttered her fingers at him, checked her watch, and silently indicated she’d be back at two.
‘I suggest somewhere close by in air-conditioned comfort,’ Nikos indicated silkily as they walked into the midsummer sunshine.
Michelle slid down her sunglasses, and was aware he mirrored her actions. ‘Fine. You choose.’
Ten minutes later they were seated in seclusion at a table overlooking an outdoor courtyard filled with potted flowers and greenery plants of numerous description.
‘Your parents have invited Saska to their home this evening.’
Michelle looked at him over the rim of her glass. He looked relaxed and at ease, and far too compelling for his own good. ‘Maman is the consummate hostess,’ she said evenly. ‘I’m sure you’ll both enjoy yourselves.’
She replaced the glass as the waiter delivered their order.
‘I’ll collect you at five to six.’
‘I have other plans.’
‘Change them.’
‘Those plans involve other people. I don’t want to let them down at such short notice.’
His eyes speared hers. ‘I’m sure they’ll understand if you explain.’
Yes they would, but that wasn’t the point.
Michelle picked up her fork and stabbed a crouton, some cos lettuce, and regarded the poised fork with apparent interest. She was bargaining for time, and it irked that he knew. ‘Surely the charade can wait a few days?’
‘Antonia and Emerson Bateson-Burrows are fellow guests,’ Nikos intimated. ‘Won’t they think it a little strange if you’re not there?’ He waited a beat. ‘And Saska is seen to be my partner?’
She had to concede he had a point. ‘I guess you’re right.’
Why did she feel like she’d just made a life-changing decision? How long would this pretense need to last? A few weeks? A month? It wasn’t as if they had to attend every party and dinner in town. It was likely she’d only have to see him a couple of nights a week.
Just keep your emotions intact, a tiny voice taunted.
Michelle took a sip of mineral water, then speared another morsel of food. The salad was delicious, but her appetite diminished with every mouthful.
What about the chemistry? The way she felt when he touched her? Each time he kissed her, whether in sensual exploration or passion, she’d just wanted to die.
Dear heaven, she’d experienced more emotional upheaval in the past two days than she had in...a long time, she admitted.
Nikos observed each fleeting expression, and wondered if she realised how expressive her features were? Or how easily he was able to define them?
‘I guess we should set down some ground rules.’ That sounded fair, she determined. How had Emilio put it? Fine tune your strategy.
‘What did you have in mind?’
Michelle looked at him carefully, and was unable to see beyond the sophisticated mask he presented. Oh God, was she mad? She wasn’t even in the same league, let alone the same game. So why was she choosing to play?
‘You don’t make decisions for me, and vice versa,’ she began. ‘We consult on anything that involves the both of us.’
“That’s reasonable.’
So far, so good. ‘No unnecessary—’ She was going to say intimacy, but that sounded too personal. ‘Touching,’ she amended, and missed the faint gleam in those dark eyes.
‘I’ll try to restrain myself, if you will.’
He was amused, damn him! ‘This isn’t funny,’ she reproved, and he proffered a crooked smile.
‘My sense of humour got the better of me.’
‘Do you want to put a time limit on this?’
One eyebrow slanted. ‘Lunch?’
‘Our supposed relationship!’
‘Ah—that.’ He expertly wound the last of his fettuccine onto his fork and savoured it. ‘How about...as long as it takes?’
Of course. That was the entire object of the exercise. She’d had enough salad, and she pushed the bowl forward, then sank back in her chair.
‘I’m intrigued,’ she ventured. ‘To discover how you knew I’d studied at the Sorbonne?’
He looked at her carefully. ‘I endeavour to discover background details of the people who claim to want to do business with me. It’s a precautionary measure.’
Michelle’s eyes narrowed slightly. That meant being able to access confidential data on file. Although with the right contacts and connections, it wouldn’t be difficult.
‘Emerson Bateson-Burrows has been vigilant in baiting the figurative hook,’ Nikos revealed with wry cynicism.
As her parents mixed socially with Jeremy’s parents, they, too, had come beneath Nikos’ scrutiny. It didn’t leave her with a comfortable feeling.
‘We didn’t meet in Paris.’
‘Yes, we did,’ he corrected.
‘Where?’ she demanded. ‘I would have remembered.’
‘At a party.’
It was possible. She’d attended several parties during her Paris sojourn. Although she was positive she’d never seen Nikos Alessandros at any one of them. ‘We weren’t introduced,’ she said with certainty.
‘No,’ Nikos agreed. ‘It was a case of too many people, and I was with someone else.’
Now why did that suddenly make her feel jealous? It didn’t make sense.
‘You’d better let me have your phone number in case I need to contact you,’ he said smoothly, and she lifted one eyebrow in mocking query.
‘You mean you don’t already have it?’
His gaze was steady. ‘I’d prefer you to give it to me willingly.’
She looked at him for a second, then she reached into her bag, extracted a card and handed it to him.
‘Would you like something else to eat?’ When she shook her head, he indicated, ‘Dessert? Coffee?’
How long had they been here? Half an hour? Longer? ‘No. Thanks,’ she added. ‘I have a few things to do before I go back to the Gallery.’ She didn’t, but Nikos wasn’t to know that. ‘Would you excuse me?’
He lifted one hand, gained the attention of the waiter, and rose to his feet. ‘I’ll walk back with you.’
She opened her mouth to say ‘there’s no need,’ saw his expression, and decided to refrain from saying anything at all.
Nikos signed the proffered credit slip, pocketed the duplicate, then accompanied her onto the street.
Finding ‘things to do’ didn’t stretch her imagination, and she made the bakery first on her list, where she selected bread rolls, a couple of Danish pastries. For Emilio, she justified. To lend credence, she entered the small local post office and stood in line to buy stamps.
Did Nikos suspect her mission was a sham? Possibly. But she didn’t care.
‘Are you done?’
The sound of that soft slightly accented drawl merely added encouragement, and she stepped into the pharmacy, picked up some antiseptic liquid, paid for it, then emerged onto the pavement.
The fruit shop was next, and she selected some grapes, an apple, a banana, and two tomatoes, justifying her purchases, ‘I won’t have time to get anything after work.’
It took only minutes to reach the Gallery, but they were long minutes during which she was acutely conscious of his height and breadth as he walked at her side.
Twice she thought of something to say by way of conversation only to dismiss the words as being inane.
At the Gallery entrance she paused and thanked him for lunch, then looked askance as he followed her inside.
‘If you remember there was a distraction,’ Nikos reminded indolently. ‘I need to give you a cheque, and have you arrange delivery.’
Michelle tended to it with professional efficiency, then accompanied him to the door.
‘What have we here?’ Emilio queried, indicating her purchases shortly after Nikos’ departure.
‘Things.’ She selected the bakery bag and handed it to him. ‘For you.’
His soft laughter was almost her undoing. ‘You initiated a small diversion?’
‘Minor,’ she agreed, and he shook his head in silent chastisement.
‘Tonight could prove interesting.’
Michelle merely smiled and headed towards the office.
It was after five when she parked her car in its allotted space and rode the lift to her apartment
The message light was blinking on the answering machine, and she activated the ‘message’ button, listened to Jeremy’s voice as he issued an impassioned plea to call him, deliberated all of five seconds, then hit ‘erase.’
His increasingly obsessive behaviour disturbed her, and she stood in reflective silence, aware that at no time had she given him reason to believe they could share anything more than friendship.
A quick glance at her watch revealed she had half an hour in which to shower and dress before she was due to meet Nikos downstairs.
Michelle entered the lobby as Nikos’ BMW swept into the bricked apron immediately adjacent the main entrance, and she reached the car just as he emerged from behind the wheel.
Nikos noted the slight thrust of her chin, the cool expressive features, and suppressed a faint smile at the sleek upswept hairstyle. The make-up was perfection with clever emphasis on her eyes, the generous curve of her mouth.
The classic “little black dress” had a scooped neckline, very short sleeves and a hemline that stopped mid-thigh, with high stiletto-heeled black pumps accenting the length of her legs.
Everything about her enhanced the sophisticated image of a young woman in total control.
Michelle slid into the passenger seat and offered him a faint smile in greeting.
He looked relaxed, and she wished she could feel comfortable about deceiving her parents.
The car gained clear passage onto the road, and Nikos headed towards the main arterial road leading into Surfers Paradise.
‘Ten minutes to countdown.’
‘Less,’ Nikos declared. ‘It begins when we collect Saska from her hotel.’
Within minutes he drew the car to a halt adjacent the Marriott. ‘I won’t be long.’
She watched as he disappeared through the automatic glass doors, crossed to one of several armchairs in the large lobby, and greeted a tall elegantly dressed woman.
Beautiful wasn’t an adequate description, Michelle decided as Nikos escorted the brunette to the car.
The mental image Michelle had drawn of a depressed and desperately unhappy widow didn’t fit the vital young woman who conversed with ease during
the ten-minute drive to Sovereign Islands, a group of seven manmade residential islands situated three kilometres north, and reached by an overbridge from the mainland.
Chantelle and Etienne Gerard’s home was a modern architectural tri-level home, with two levels given over entirely to entertaining.
There were several cars lining the driveway, and Michelle experienced a vague sense of uneasiness as she entered the house at Nikos’ side. She was all too aware of the role she’d committed herself to play and the deceit involved.
Almost on cue, Nikos caught hold of her hand and linked his fingers through her own, and the smile he cast her was intimately warm.
It stirred her senses and made her acutely aware of each breath she took. The blood seemed to race through her veins, quickening her pulse.
Oh God. What had she let herself in for?