HELEN BIANCHIN - Mistress By Arrangement

‘You are pensive. Why?’

Forthright, even confrontational, Emilio possessed the ability to divine whenever anything bothered her. She delayed answering him by pulling the tab on a can of soft drink and taking a long swallow of the ice-cold liquid.

‘A man, huh?’ Emilio pronounced. ‘Do I know him?’

She replaced the can onto the table, and took another bite of pizza. ‘What makes you so sure it’s a man?’

‘You have soft shadows beneath those beautiful green eyes.’ His smile was gentle, but far too discerning. ‘Lack of sleep, sweetheart. And as you rarely party ‘til dawn, I doubt a late night among the social elite was the cause.’

‘I could merely be concerned about tomorrow’s exhibition.’

‘No,’ he declared with certainty. ‘If you don’t want to talk about him, that’s fine.’

Michelle cast him a level look. ‘He was a guest at a dinner I attended.’ She paused fractionally. ‘And if I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.’

‘Trouble,’ Emilio accorded softly. ‘Definitely.’

‘No,’ she corrected. ‘Because I won’t allow him to be.’

‘Cara, I don’t think you’ll have a choice.’ His quiet laughter brought forth a vexed grimace.

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because you’re a beautiful young woman whose fierce protection of self lends you to eat lesser men for breakfast,’ he mocked. ‘The fact you haven’t been able to succeed with this particular one is intriguing. I shall look forward to meeting him.’

‘It won’t happen,’ Michelle vowed with certainty.

‘You don’t think so?’

‘I know so,’ she responded vehemently.

‘OK.’ Emilio lifted both hands in a conciliatory gesture, although his smile held humour. ‘Eat your pizza.’

‘I intend to.’ She bit into the crisp crust, then reached forward, caught up a paper napkin and wiped her fingers. ‘I’ll help you clean up, then I’m going home.’

‘An empty pizza carton, a few glasses, soft drink cans. What’s to clean?’

‘In that case,’ she inclined, standing to her feet in one fluid movement. ‘I’m out of here.’ She leaned forward and brushed her cheek to his. ‘Ciao.’

The Gallery opened at four, and an hour later the full complement of guests had gathered, mingling in small clutches, glass in hand. Taped baroque music flowed softly through strategically placed speakers, a soothing background to the muted buzz of conversation.

Michelle had selected a classic fitted dress in black with a lace overlay. Stiletto heels, sheer black hose, her hair swept high, and understated make-up with emphasis on her eyes completed a picture that portrayed elegance and style.

Hired staff proffered trays containing a selection of hors d’oeuvres, and already a number of Brett’s paintings displayed a discreet sold sticker.

Success, Michelle reflected with a small sigh of relief. Everything was going splendidly. The finger food couldn’t be faulted, the champagne was superb, and the ambience was perfecto, as Emilio would say.

She glanced across the room, caught his eye, and smiled.

‘Another triumph, darling.’

Her stomach tightened fractionally as she recognised Jeremy’s cynical voice, and she summoned a polite smile as she turned to face him. ‘I didn’t expect you to honour the invitation.’

‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’

He leaned forward and she moved slightly so that his lips brushed her cheek. An action which resulted in a faint intake of breath, the momentary hardening of his eyes.

‘The eminently eligible Nikos has yet to put in an appearance, I see.’ He moved back a pace, and ran light fingers down her arm.

Michelle tilted her head a little and met his dark gaze. ‘A little difficult, when he wasn’t issued an invitation.’

‘Dear sweet Michelle,’ Jeremy chided with sarcastic gentleness. ‘Nikos was an invited guest on the parents’ cruiser today. The enchanting Chantelle issued the invitation to your Gallery soiree.’ He paused for effect before delivering the punch line. ‘As I recall, Nikos indicated he would grace us with his presence.’

Her heart tripped and raced to a quicker beat. ‘Really? ’

One eyebrow slanted in mockery. ‘Am I mistaken, or is that not pleasurable anticipation I sense?’ He primed a barb and aimed for the kill. ‘Didn’t he come up to scratch last night, darling?’ His smile held thinly veiled humour. ‘Jet lag can have that effect.’

Calm, just keep calm, she bade silently as she moved back a pace. He didn’t release her arm, and she gave him a deliberately pointed look. ‘This conversation is going nowhere, Jeremy.’ She flexed her arm, felt his grip tighten for an instant before he released her. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I really must mingle.’ Her voice assumed an icy formality. ‘I hope you enjoy the exhibition. Emilio and I are confident of Brett’s talent and potential.’

‘Ah, the inimical Emilio,’ Jeremy drawled. ‘You do know he’s bisexual?’

As well as being untrue, it was unkind. She didn’t miss a beat. ‘Slander isn’t a pretty word. Watch you don’t find yourself in court on a legal charge.’

‘A mite too protective, darling.’

‘And you,’ she declared with quiet emphasis. ‘Are a first-class—’

‘Michelle.’

Her body quivered at the sound of that faintly accented voice, and her pulse went into overdrive. How much of her argument with Jeremy had Nikos Alessandros heard?

Everything came into sharp focus as she slowly turned to face him.

‘Nikos,’ she acknowledged, and imperceptibly stiffened as he placed a hand at the back of her waist.

His expression gave nothing away, but there was a hint of steel beneath the polite facade as he inclined his head.

‘Jeremy.’

Michelle’s nerves flared into sensitised life at his close proximity.

‘Is there a problem?’ Nikos asked smoothly, and she felt like screaming.

Yes. Jeremy for behaving badly, and you just for being here!

A determined sparkle darkened her eyes. ‘If you’ll excuse me? I really should mingle.’

She turned away, only to find that Nikos had joined her.

‘Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she queried with quiet vehemence the instant they were out of Jeremy’s earshot. She made a concerted effort to shift out of his grasp without success.

‘Rescuing you.’

‘I didn’t need rescuing!’

His smile held a hint of cynical humour. ‘Especially not by me.’

‘Look—’

‘Save the indignation for a more suitable occasion.’

‘Why?’ Michelle vented with quiet fury. ‘When I have no intention of seeing you again.’

‘Considering your parents and the Bateson-Burrows have issued me with a few interesting invitations, that’s most unlikely,’ Nikos assured silkily.

She wanted to hit him. It was enough she had to deal with Jeremy, whose recalcitrance in the past twenty-four hours could be directly attributed to the man at her side.

Had Nikos not been a guest at the Bateson-Burrows’ dinner table, she could have conducted a diplomatic discussion last night with Jeremy, and he wouldn’t now be behaving quite inappropriately.

Or would he? Jeremy had displayed a side to his personality she’d never suspected might exist.

‘Suppose we embark on a conducted tour of your protegé’s work.’

‘Why?’ she demanded baldly, and found herself looking into a pair of amused dark grey eyes.

‘I could be a potential buyer, and you do, Chantelle assures me, have an excellent eye for new talent.’

Did she realise just how beautiful she looked when she was angry?

‘Mother has excelled herself in lauding my supposed talents,’ she stated dryly.