Forgotten Husband (13 page)

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Authors: Helen Bianchin

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Contemporary, #Romance

BOOK: Forgotten Husband
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Elise forced herself to meet Savannah's intent gaze, and for one brief second she witnessed unadulterated venom before it was masked. A slight smile appeared in acknowledgement before Savannah turned towards her partner, and Elise was unable to prevent a slight shiver.

Did Alejandro know Savannah was here? It was a distinct probability.

 

'More mineral water?'

 

'Thank you.'

 

'We should be able to get away in less than an hour. We'll go on to dinner afterwards,' Alejandro said quietly.

 

'Have you already booked?'

 

He named a well-known restaurant famed for its fine cuisine. 'You would prefer somewhere else?'

 

'Quiet, out of the way, with little chance of meeting anyone we know?' she suggested hopefully.

 

'I can recollect a few.'

 

Suitable for clandestine meetings? Damn, she had to stop resorting to destructive introspection! 'Of course, we could buy a take-away meal on the way home.'

 

'Anything in particular?'

 

‘Chinese.’

 

His eyes gleamed with humour. 'I'll cancel the restaurant from the car.'

 

'Thank you.'

 

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers lightly across her cheek. 'Just where precisely do you intend we eat?'

 

She looked at him with undue solemnity. 'Dressed like this?' she enquired innocently. 'At the dining-room table. Where else?'

 

'We could always change first.'

 

'And eat out on the terrace?' She offered a singularly sweet smile. 'What a wonderful idea.'

 

The depths of his eyes took on a dark brilliance. 'Minx. Remind me to extract due penance.'

'You wouldn't dare.'

 

A slow, wicked smile tugged the edges of his mouth, and his voice held infinite indolence. 'Just watch me.'

 

Every bone in her body began to feel liquefied at the thought of precisely how he would exact atonement. 'I think,' she said unsteadily, 'we should attempt to continue our viewing, don't you?'

 

'An excellent suggestion.'

 

It was after eight when they left, and almost nine before Alejandro garaged the car. The plastic carrier bag with its various containers emitted a mouthwatering aroma, and Elise slid off her shoes the moment they entered the house.

 

'You intend to change before we eat?'

 

She cast him a studied glance. 'This gown cost a small fortune.'

 

'So did my suit,' drawled Alejandro.

 

'Perhaps you should exchange it for something less formal.'

 

'And save on the dry-cleaning bill?'

 

'Naturally.'

 

'I gather eating in bed would be considered the height of decadence?'

 

She failed miserably in suppressing an impish smile. 'It would be such a shame to waste the food.'

 

'The terrace?'

 

Her eyes twinkled with devilish humour. 'Think of the moonlight.'

 

He shrugged out of his jacket and placed it over a nearby chair. 'Plates, cutlery, glasses?'

 

She pretended due consideration. 'I guess we could opt for informality,' she decided as she picked up her shoes and made for the staircase. 'Two forks, two glasses.' She began mounting the stairs, then paused to look down at him. 'Do you think you can manage that?'

 

He removed the bow tie and loosened the top buttons on his shirt. 'Don't be too long,
querida,'
he warned gently, and her mouth curved into a guileless smile.

 

'Patience, Alejandro.' She turned and slowly traversed the remaining stairs. In the bedroom she slipped out of the gown, then dressed in silk culottes and a loose top.

 

Minutes later she walked out on to the terrace to find Alejandro seated at one of the outdoor tables, a portable lamp providing essential light, the food displayed in its various containers, and a slim flute of wine within easy reach. His shirt was undone almost to the waist, the cuffs rolled halfway up his forearms.

 

Elise sank into a chair opposite, dipped a fork into chop suey, and savoured a mouthful with suitable enthusiasm, then repeated the process. 'Isn't this better than eating in a restaurant?'

 

He forked a prawn into his mouth, then shot her a musing look. 'This is quite good.'

 

'Don't sound so surprised.' She met his gaze and wrinkled her nose at him in admonition. ‘The trouble is you've been thoroughly spoilt, with a personal cook and professional chefs to pander to your gourmand taste.'

 

'Planning to re-educate me, Elise?'

 

'In some areas it mightn't be a bad idea.'

 

'And what areas are those, my darling wife?' He sounded distinctly amused, and dangerously indolent.

 

'You could do with a lesson in humility,' she said with mock severity.

 

'Where you are concerned, I am remarkably humble,' Alejandro claimed solemnly. His eyes held hers, and she couldn't look away as he lifted his glass in a silent salute before placing the rim to his mouth.

 

He sounded sincere. Almost as if he cared very much. The breath caught in her throat, and she found it difficult to swallow.

 

Her fork was suspended in mid-air, and she slowly replaced it on the table, her appetite gone.

 

He leaned back in the chair, his large frame displaying an indolent grace that was deceptive, for there was a watchfulness apparent, a leashed air she found infinitely disturbing. 'Lost for words, Elise?'

 

She looked at him for what seemed an age, wanting more than anything to move into his arms, to lift her mouth for his kiss. But she seemed locked into immobility, and there was a strange ache in the region of her heart.

 

There was so much she wanted to say, yet she felt hesitant, afraid that if she revealed too much it would render her vulnerable.

 

'Shall I make coffee?' Even her voice sounded breathy and uncertain, and she cursed her own insecurity.

 

'No coffee,' Alejandro said gently. 'I'll dispose of these containers, then we'll go to bed.'

 

Bed. That was her downfall. It was where she sold her soul and lost control.

 

'I'm not tired,' she offered quietly, and glimpsed his faint smile.

 

'Neither am I. Sleeping wasn't exactly what I had in mind.'

 

She rose to her feet and gathered up the cutlery and glasses, then carried them through to the kitchen.

 

Alejandro followed, and she heard him locking the outer doors and setting the security alarm.

 

It was a simple task to load the dishwasher, and she had just finished when he entered the room.

 

He looked vaguely piratical: dark trousers, deep olive skin, dark hair, in stark contrast to the white shirt. And tall. He almost seemed overpowering, and, white she craved his touch, there was a part of her that cried out against any sexual subjugation.

 

She watched as he dispatched food down the waste-disposal unit, then dropped empty containers into the pedal-bin before washing and drying his hands. In silence he turned and caught hold of her hand, leading her through to the lounge, where he selected a compact disc and slid it into the disc player.

 

Soft music emanated from the speakers and Elise looked at him speechlessly as he drew her into his arms.

 

Crazy, she thought, as he pulled her close against him and began to drift slowly round the room. She felt his lips brush her hair, followed by the warmth of his breath against her temple. His heartbeat was strong beneath her cheek, and her hands crept to link together at the back of his waist.

 

The music was so slow and dreamy that after several minutes they hardly bothered to move at all, and simply stood still in the dim light reflected from the foyer.

 

His kiss was so incredibly gentle that it almost made her cry, and she offered him her mouth, exulting in an erotic tasting that excited without demand.

 

When the music finished he raised his head and subjected her to a long, searching gaze, then he placed an arm beneath her knees and carried her up the stairs.

 

Elise wanted to cry, and when he lowered her to her feet in the bedroom, tears shimmered like crystal droplets in each corner of her eyes.

 

Without a word he led her to the bed and sat down on its edge, then he drew her to stand between his thighs.

 

Her mouth began to tremble, and there was nothing she could do to prevent the slow downward path of a single tear as it overflowed.

 

Alejandro lifted a hand and halted its passage with the pad of his thumb before moving to trace the outline of her mouth.

 

'I was almost hesitant to question the cause,' he drawled gently. 'Do you want to blame it on ambivalent emotions?'

 

'I guess that's as good a reason as any,' she owned shakily, and almost died at the wealth of passion evident in those dark eyes so close to her own.

 

'I need you,' he said gently. 'Every day in my life. All night long in my bed.'

 

Need. Need had to be better than
want,
didn't it? And 'every day in my life' sounded permanent. As in forever?

 

She wanted to say, 'I
love you.'
But the words wouldn't emerge.

 

He pulled her on to his lap and kissed her, then carefully eased her on to the bed.

 

Her arms lifted to curve round his neck as she gave herself up to the magic only he was able to create. Soon she was filled with an agonising sweetness as her body began to respond to the exquisite
tendresse
of his touch, and she throbbed with intense awareness when he entered her, glorying in the mutual joy of complete possession as they journeyed towards a mutual fulfilment of the senses.

 

It was a wild sweet pleasure tempered by raw desire. Erotic, primitive, yet so incredibly sensual she was held captive in its thrall
...his
without any equivocation.

 

On the edge of sleep she was conscious of his arms enfolding her close, and she gave a tiny sigh of contentment before drifting in a dreamless state that lasted until morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

 

 

‘Elise. There is a telephone call for you.'

 

Very few calls for her came through the house phone. Alejandro rang direct on the mobile net, likewise the few of her friends to whom she had given the number. Perhaps it was the obstetrician's receptionist rescheduling her appointment

 

'Who is it, Ana?'

 

'Siobhan Barry.'

 

If Siobhan was calling at this time, it meant she had the day off. Perhaps they could meet for lunch, Elise mused as she crossed to the nearest handset.

 

'Siobhan. How are you?'

 

There was a brief silence.
'Savannah,
darling Did Ana get it wrong?'

 

A chill feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Even allowing for misunderstanding, Savannah's surname was vastly dissimilar to that of Siobhan. Which meant Savannah had deliberately set out to deceive. There could be little doubt as to why.

 

'Is it essential we have this conversation?' Elise managed steadily, and heard a faint intake of breath down the line.

 

'I suppose you think you're clever,' Savannah opined viciously.

 

It was a game that had to be played out to its conclusion, Elise decided, saddened that it should have even begun. 'Perhaps you'd care to elaborate.'

 

'You poisonous little bitch. You had to tell him, didn't you?'

 

Elise closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again. 'If you're referring to my hand... blame the physiotherapist,' she managed carefully, 'and Alejandro, for insisting on a first-hand report every time I visit any member of the medical profession.'

 

There was a long pause. 'Watch your back, darling.'

 

'I always do.' Without hesitation she replaced the receiver, only to lift it again and dial a memorised number.

 

A sleepy voice repeated the digits, and Elise felt a surge of relief. 'Siobhan? How about lunch?'

 

'I didn't get to bed until three, you impossible person. Must it be today?'

 

'We could make it a late lunch,' Elise persisted, and heard Siobhan's laughing approval.

 

'Name the time and place, and I'll meet you there.'

 

'One-thirty. Doyle's at Watson's Bay,' she returned without hesitation.

 

They met within minutes of the appointed time, and managed by good fortune to be shown to a table overlooking the beach. After the serious business of ordering was completed, they settled down to exchanging news, something which lasted through the starter, and well into the main course.

'You're positively blooming,' Siobhan complimented quietly. 'Your hair, your skin. Everything about you. I couldn't be more pleased everything is working out.'

 

Elise managed a bright smile that didn't fool her friend in the slightest.

 

'Not quite, huh? What's the problem?'

 

'I didn't ask you to meet me to discuss any problems.'

 

'Hell, no. You love my wit, my charm.' She leaned forward, her expression pensive. 'I refuse to believe it has anything to do with Alejandro. Savannah?' she hazarded.

 

'Why not Alejandro?'

Siobhan shot her an old-fashioned look. 'My God, you really can't see it, can you?' she queried, shaking her head in silent disbelief. 'Did you never wonder why I didn't visit you in hospital?' Her expression sobered. 'Alejandro requested—
requested,'
she insisted, 'I stay away until you regained your memory.' Her eyes took on an earnest fervour. 'He rang me every day to let me know how you were.'

 

Elise could only look at her in shocked silence. Why would he do something like that if he didn't want to make the most of an opportunity to repair her perception of him? It was crazy. Yet only last night...

 

'Go figure, Elise,' Siobhan advised gently. 'And, if you're still in any doubt, ask yourself why he insisted on marriage, when it would have been infinitely more simple to install you as his mistress.'

 

It was almost four when they left the restaurant, and a short while later Elise garaged the car, then moved lightly indoors.

 

Ana was busy peeling vegetables as she entered the kitchen, and she uttered an appreciative sound as the delicious aroma of roast chicken assailed her nostrils.

 

'Anything I can do to help?'

 

Ana's smile, like the woman herself, was warm and friendly. 'Alejandro rang. He will be home early. If you must do something, you could set the table.'

 

Afterwards she took a long, leisurely shower, then dressed in a white silk blouse and tailored straight skirt. She was putting the finishing touches to her make-up when Alejandro entered the bedroom.

 

Elise offered him a tentative smile, then concentrated on colouring the lower curve of her mouth. Her eyes widened as she saw his reflected image in the mirror, and she stood perfectly still as he turned her round to face him.

 

'I had a call from the physiotherapist. It appears you forgot your appointment this afternoon.'

 

Surprise flitted across her features. Damn, it had completely slipped her mind. 'I'll ring tomorrow and offer my apologies. I met Siobhan for lunch.'

 

His eyes pierced hers. 'Ana said Siobhan phoned. Strange,' he continued thoughtfully, 'when the only number she has is linked to your personal mobile.'

 

Elise lifted her hands, then let them fall to her sides in a helpless gesture. 'Savannah rang, and tricked Ana that she was Siobhan, then attempted to have me believe Ana had made a mistake over the name.'

'Do you want to tell me about it?'

'Not particularly.'

'Elise---'

 

'Don't, Alejandro. Please.' She felt so incredibly vulnerable that if he touched her she would shatter and fall in an ignominious heap at his feet.

 

Even now, the pain was still there, yet she managed to hold his gaze with dignity. Dared she risk all and reveal how she felt? Expunge the anguish, and pray that Siobhan was right?

 

Drawing a deep breath, she took courage in both hands and began.

 

'I need to tell you that I viewed my father's death as a ticket to escape a marriage I considered to have been arranged in hell. The night he lay so ill in hospital, I forgot to take the Pill. Ironic, wouldn't you say, that he should die within hours of my discovering I might be pregnant?' She bit the edge of her lip to prevent it from trembling, and the breath caught in her throat as he lifted both hands to frame her face.

 

'So you ran.' His thumb traced the edge of her lower lip. She swallowed involuntarily, and his eyes narrowed faintly as he witnessed her nervous reaction.

 

'I considered I had no choice.'

 

'Gracias,
Elise.' There was a bitterness apparent that tore her apart.

 

There was no doubt he desired her, but desire alone had little to do with need,
love.
'After the accident,' she began shakily, 'you were always there, the image of a devoted husband.' Her eyes searched his, seeing the darkness apparent, the faint tenseness as he waited for her to continue. 'When my memory returned, I felt betrayed. I had trusted you,' she cried in an anguished whisper.

 

He was quiet for a long time. 'There was no reason for you to distrust me.'

 

'You perceived it as a game,' Elise went on with incredible sadness. 'With me as the pawn.'

'From the beginning,' he corrected quietly, 'you were the prize.'

 

'Prey,' she countered. 'Ruthlessly hunted, and relentlessly lured into a trap.'

 

His gaze was unwavering, intense, and impossible to read.

 

'You acted a part,' she accused, and saw his eyes darken.

 

'Never,' he assured her after a long silence, and her features paled.

 

'I don't believe you.'

 

'No? You perceived our lovemaking as a calculated coupling without any depth of emotional involvement?'

 

It had never been that, not even in the beginning.
'Love
isn't a prerequisite for satisfactory sex.' She felt as if she were breaking up inside, her body slowly shattering with each successive word he uttered.

 

He was silent for what seemed an age, and his voice when he spoke sounded like silk being sliced by the finest tempered steel. 'You can describe what we share as merely clinical satisfaction?'

 

She looked at him carefully, seeing the strength apparent, the hint of passion in the depths of those dark eyes. 'No,' she owned at last.

 

His thumb trailed to her cheekbone, explored the faint hollow beneath, then slid to rest at the corner of her mouth.
'Por Dios,'
he declared huskily. 'An admission.’

 

Time stood still, and she was willing to swear that her heart stopped beating for several seconds before kicking in at a quickened pace as the pad of his thumb slid halfway along her lower lip to rest there momentarily before gently compressing its fullness.

 

'And
this,'
he drawled with emphasis, as his hand shaped one sensitised breast, deliberately tracing a provocative pattern back and forth across its aching peak, 'is your body's reaction to the caress of any man?'

 

Dear God, no.
You,
she vowed silently. Only you.

 

His eyes were dark, almost black, gleaming like polished onyx as he reached into her mind and so easily read what was there.

 

'Impossible, of course, for you to comprehend you are the love of my life?'

 

The silence was so total that she forgot to breathe, then her chest lurched as she drew in the first of several deep ragged gasps of air.

 

'They're only words, Alejandro,' she managed shakily, wanting desperately to believe them.

 

'They are all I have left.' His eyes were dark, unguarded, and filled with a depth of passion that made her senses reel.

 

'Your amnesia provided me with a heaven-sent opportunity to begin afresh. Without the barrier of your animosity, it became possible for you to believe you were the very much loved wife of a man who clearly adored you.' He paused, and his touch was so gentle that it made her want to cry. 'I prayed your memory loss would last long enough for those weeks we had together to make a difference.'

 

'The baby '

 

His finger pressed closed her lips, and his eyes were incredibly dark. 'Make no mistake,
querida.
The child you carry is a wonderful bonus. But it is you I care for.
You'

 

She shivered at the soft invasive pull on her emotions as his fingers slid to her nape and angled her head towards his.

 

'Please—
don't,'
she whispered in anguish.

 

His head lowered to hers, and his breath was warm against her lips. 'Why not,
querida?'

 

Her stomach lurched, then curled into a painful knot as his mouth brushed hers. She couldn't have moved, even if her limbs had been willing. 'Because I can't think when you do that.'

 

She sensed rather than glimpsed his smile. 'Is it so important that you
think?'

 

The tip of his tongue touched the corner of her mouth, savoured the indentation, then lightly traced the full curve to the centre. Liquid fire coursed through her veins, igniting each separate nerve-end until her body seemed one vibrant entity.

 

'If I don't,' she managed in strangled tones, 'you'll simply sweep me into oblivion.'

 

She sensed his smile, and heard the faint husky growl emerge from his throat. 'Would that be so bad?'

 

His mouth was creating the sweetest magic with her own, a slow, tantalising prelude to what must surely follow, and her body began to heat, every nerve-end flaring into vibrant life as her soul reached out to his.

 

'Alejandro...' His name escaped her lips in a shaken gasp as he drew her close in against the swollen evidence of his desire.

 

It was almost as if he needed to absorb her— flesh, bones, the very essence that made her unique—and she could feel herself slowly melting, slipping inevitably down into a glorious pool of swirling warmth where there was only an acute perception of the senses, the sweet promise of two souls perfectly in accord merging and becoming one.

 

With a sense of desperation she dragged her mouth away from his, aware in a moment of complete lucidity that it was because he allowed it.

 

Her lips felt soft and swollen, tender, and they trembled slightly beneath the moistness of her tongue as she unconsciously ran its tip along the lower edge.

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