Helen Bianchin - Alessandro's Prize

He subjected her to a steady appraisal. ‘You possess a sassy mouth.’

A swift shaft of sensation arrowed deep within, and for a timeless second she felt the breath hitch in her throat, then she recovered.

‘I believe it is a defence mechanism against men like you.’

‘You have no knowledge of what manner of man I am.’

Believe me, I don’t want to know.

So why this inclination to indulge in a tangle of words with him when instinct warned against it?

‘Should I dare to offer a homespun psychological assessment?’

She caught a glimpse of wry humour in his dark eyes, then it was gone. ‘You could try.’

Lily pretended to contemplate the challenge. ‘I’ll attempt a comparative balance,’ she managed solemnly. ‘In your favour, there is Sophia … for whom you would do almost anything. Even gifting time and support to her niece, which earns you several brownie points.’ She held up a hand and figuratively ticked off one finger. ‘I assume you’re kind to young children and animals?’ She barely paused as she counted off another finger. ‘Of course you are. So let’s move along. You’re presentable, dress well, and possess a credible work ethic.’ More than credible, but she chose not to linger.

‘However, you have a certain—’ Lily trailed deliberately. ‘—reputation. Which may be part fiction.’ She pretended to contemplate the issue. ‘Let’s concede the jury is still out on that one.’

‘Generous of you.’

She offered him a stunning smile. ‘I’m glad you think so.’

There was a certain satisfaction to being in control, even temporarily. Yet she had the uncanny sensation it was he who held the strings.

Sophia rejoined them, and it was interesting to observe the guests shift singly and in small groups as the evening progressed.

In turn it was exciting to be part of it all, to simply observe the guests whose mission it was to be seen and impress; those who attended the various fashion weeks in other European capital cities and for whom designer after-parties were de rigueur.

Lily overheard voices raised in conflicting opinion over one particular designer’s offerings on the runway.

‘Cara, fashion is an art form, presented for visual appreciation of the designers’ skilled technique with cloth and thread.’

‘But, darling, who would consider wearing it?’

‘A designer original speaks for itself.’

‘And that is its attraction.’

‘Exactement.’

Of course, Lily agreed silently as she scanned the room with interest, pausing when she sighted Sophia in deep conversation with a very attractive man.

Her aunt led a very full life with her involvement in a few select charities, together with an active social existence. She had once confided she’d chosen not to remarry, for her late husband had been her soulmate, and true love rarely struck twice.

For a moment Lily pondered the meaning of soulmate … two people so totally in tune with each other in every way, there could never be anyone else for either of them during their lifetime.

Had she felt that way about James?

In all honesty, she’d thought she loved him. Yet with the benefit of hindsight, she had to admit she’d loved the man she wanted him to be.

Rose-coloured glasses? Perhaps. From her perspective the relationship had felt right at the time. Although on reflection, she was able to pinpoint a few instances when she’d experienced slight niggles, little things she’d found mildly irksome, which she’d dismissed on the grounds she undoubtedly possessed a few irritating traits of her own.

Yet she’d enjoyed the sense they were a couple, with supposedly the same interests, and the sex, the intimacy had been … satisfactory.

James had wanted a short engagement, while she had been in no rush to legalize their relationship. It was James who had suggested they have a big wedding, and who had endeavoured to veto the small private ceremony she preferred.

He also had a liking for expensive clothes, the status symbols of wealth, but without the income to support them, given he regularly gifted financial assistance to his sister who resided in another state. Or so he had said.

Except the purported sister had turned out to be the lover she had faced sharing her bed in her own home.

Soulmate … to be so in tune with a partner, to know without doubt you were twin halves of a whole co-joined for life. Was it possible?

For some, perhaps.

‘You’re thinking too much.’

Alessandro’s silky drawl lifted the fine hairs on her body, and there was no valid reason for the sudden spiral of sensation deep within.

Except it was there, like an ache that needed soothing … ridiculous.

Breathe, she bade silently as the tension between them became electric.

You’re being fanciful, Lily silently chided. Overly imaginative. In the thrall of rampant hormones, the thought of which she found almost laughable.

Alessandro watched the play of fleeting emotions in her expressive eyes, and wondered if she realized how easily he could divine them.

On one level she fascinated him. For she possessed a conflicting mix of strength and vulnerability that made him feel … protective of her.

Even in killer heels the top of her head barely reached his shoulder, and he had an instinctive urge to remove the pins from her hair, knot its length with his fist and tug back her head to taste the sweet column of her throat, then savour the increased pulse-beat in the hollow at its base.

There was a bemused inclination to wonder how she’d feel in bed … his … her hair loose and tangled, her voice husky with passion as he drove her wild.

Not the most comfortable of contemplations, he perceived a trifle wryly as he caught a glimpse of Sophia on the point of rejoining them.

‘I am so sorry,’ Sophia apologized. ‘I became caught up with one of the sponsors responsible for contributing to next week’s charity gala.’

‘Who undoubtedly agreed to increase his original donation,’ Alessandro ventured, and was rewarded by Sophia’s sparkling agreement.

‘It is going to be a magnificent event. Tomorrow,’ she added, gifting Lily a warm smile, ‘we shop for something spectacular for each of us to wear.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ Lily agreed.

It was late when Sophia suggested they should leave, and Lily glanced idly at the well-lit streets as Alessandro negotiated traffic.

The after-party had been a fascinating experience, completing an exceptional day … and Lily said as much as they entered Alessandro’s apartment.

‘Thank you,’ she added with genuine appreciation, and gave Sophia a warm hug. Then she turned towards Alessandro and offered a smile. ‘Grazie.’

‘My pleasure.’

His dark gaze encompassed them both. ‘Shall we have coffee?’

‘I’ll pass,’ Lily declined, ‘and head for bed.’

‘Sleep well, cara,’ Sophia bade gently, and watched Lily ascend the stairs, aware Alessandro’s attention mirrored her own. With a quiet smile she tucked a hand beneath his arm. ‘Let’s have that coffee.’

In the kitchen he spooned ground coffee beans into the espresso machine, then he filled two demitasse cups with the dark aromatic brew, set both cups on the table and gave the woman seated opposite a quizzical look.

‘This is not about the coffee.’

Sophia met his gaze with a degree of solemnity. ‘No.’

He took a seat and offered a wry smile. ‘Lily.’

Sophia was silent for a few measurable seconds. ‘I would hate to see her hurt,’ she said gently.