HELEN BIANCHIN - Dangerous Alliance

‘At twenty-five, one would hope so,’ she responded sweetly.

‘I promised Paige I’d take you straight to the hospital,’ Dimitri said minutes later as he eased the car off the freeway.

A chill fear clutched her heart, and she searched his chiselled features for a hint of reassurance, and found none. It was two months since she’d seen her mother, and she agonised that she hadn’t detected even a glimmer of concern in Paige’s voice, a slight hesitancy—anything that might have betrayed a glimpse of anxiety relevant to a worrying health problem.

How could such a thing happen? she raged silently. Paige ate all the right foods, exercised and played tennis, never smoked, and drank minimally. Why ?

Ten minutes later the Jaguar swung through open wrought-iron gates and traversed a wide, pebbled driveway to park at the rear of one of Melbourne’s most exclusive private hospitals.

As they passed through Reception the nurse spared Dimitri a smile tinged with a degree of wistful envy, whereas the sister in charge had no such qualms.

‘Mrs Kostakidas is resting quite comfortably.’ Her eyes held liquid warmth and a silent invitation, should the man at Leanne’s side choose to give the merest indication of interest.

Leanne watched with detached resignation, and wondered whether her exalted stepbrother would choose to make another conquest. In his late thirties, he was an intensely sensual man whose power, wealth and sheer physicality drew women like bees to a honeypot. Yet he had a select coterie of women friends with whom he chose to dine and indulge in social proclivities. Inevitably, there were some he surely bedded, but not, she suspected, indiscriminately. A newsprint photo taken at a recent glitzy function came vividly to mind; it had named his female companion as Shanna Delahunty, only daughter of Reginald Delahunty, the insurance magnate.

‘Paige’s suite is to the right.’

The quietly spoken words served as a timely warning, for they gave Leanne the few essential seconds necessary to seek control before she walked into the luxurious suite.

Despite having been given the grim medical facts, Leanne found it impossible to relate the gaunt, pale-featured woman lying propped against a nest of pillows with her mother.

It wasn’t easy to smile, and it took a tremendous strength of will to keep the tears at bay as she crossed to the bed and carefully embraced the slight figure. Paige’s bones appeared fragile, and her skin felt like fine tissue paper. It was if the essence of her mother had gone, and Leanne wanted to scream out against the unkind hand of fate.

‘Hello, darling.’ The words were softly spoken, the smile truly beautiful, as if the flickering flame deep within had gained a small measure of renewed life. A hand lifted, and faintly trembling fingers brushed the length of Leanne’s cheek. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’

The desire to weep was almost irrepressible, and Leanne gave a slight start as Dimitri curved an arm round her shoulders. His silent strength acted as a protective cloak, and she stood perfectly still, her features carefully schooled as Paige feasted her eyes lovingly on her daughter’s diminutive frame before shifting to the man at her side.

‘Thank you.’ The words were a soft whisper, and Dimitri’s eyes were dark, liquid with affection, yet when they slid towards Leanne they became vaguely smoky in silent warning, and she stiffened fractionally as his fingers shifted and began a subtle massage of the fine bones at the edge of her shoulder.

‘We’ll leave you to rest,’ he said as he leant forward to brush Paige’s cheek with his lips. ‘Leanne will call in after lunch, and we’ll both visit this evening.’

‘Yes.’

Paige’s voice was barely audible, and Leanne managed to contain her tears until they were in the corridor, then they spilled over and began trickling in twin rivulets down each cheek.

The corridor seemed longer than she remembered, and by the time she slid into the passenger seat she was an emotional wreck.

‘Why didn’t I know she was ill?’ Leanne demanded with a mixture of impotent rage and deep anguish, then, as a thought occurred to her, she turned towards the man who had just slid in behind the wheel. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Simply because I didn’t know,’ Dimitri assured her hardly. ‘Paige and I maintain weekly telephone contact, and I dine at the house every few weeks.’

In between business trips that took him from one Australian state capital to another, and numerous countries around the world, his base was a spacious penthouse suite atop a stylish apartment block barely two kilometres distant from his late father’s Toorak mansion.

‘Paige showed no signs of illness? Nothing?’ Leanne queried with disbelief.

‘I last saw her five weeks ago, and, although pale, she assured me she was recuperating well from a virulent flu virus.’ His eyes were dark, his expression reflective. ‘I left the next day for a series of meetings in the States, then Paris, Rome, followed by a stop-over in Perth. A fax from Paige’s medical adviser was waiting for me at the hotel,’ he relayed bleakly. ‘I rang you as soon as I had all the facts.’

‘She must have suspected something, surely?’ Leanne agonised huskily.

‘The medical professionals informed me she’s been aware of the severity of her condition for several months. It was her express wish to keep it private until such time as she required hospitalisation.’

Her throat felt painfully constricted, and she was barely managing to keep the tears at bay. Dammit, where was the slim pack of tissues she always carried? Moisture spilled over and ran down her cheeks, and her fingers shook as she brushed the tears away.

She heard his unintelligible oath, then a soft white square was pushed into her hand and he pulled her into the protective curve of his shoulder.

Her initial instinct was to move away, but she lacked sufficient strength to break free. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks and dampened his shirt, and she was vaguely aware of his fingers slipping beneath the weight of her hair to trace a soothing pattern across a collection of fragile bones.

She had no idea how long she remained there before she regained a measure of control. Only minutes, surely, she agonised despairingly

‘I’m sorry,’ she profferred in a slightly muffled voice as she attempted to pull free.

‘For what, Leanne?’ he drawled in cynical query. ‘Dropping your guard long enough to accept my compassion?’

‘I didn’t—’

‘Want to display any emotion in my presence?’

‘No,’ she retaliated bleakly, unwilling to show so much as a chink in her armour. She sat still and stared sightlessly out of the window, remembering all too vividly the numerous occasions when she’d deliberately sought his attention. Attention he’d affectionately fielded without hurting her vulnerable feelings, until the fateful night of her twenty-first birthday.

Leanne closed her eyes in an attempt to shut out a memory that was hauntingly clear in every detail.

Paige had provided a wonderful party with many invited friends, and Leanne had been so happy. No guest had been more important to her than Dimitri, and the secret wish she’d nursed that at last he would recognise her as a woman. Flushed with a dangerous sense of exhilaration, she’d flirted a little with every male friend, and enjoyed one glass too many of vintage champagne. At the end of the evening, when everyone had left and Paige had retired upstairs to bed, she’d reactivated the stereo system, selected a tape and teasingly begged Dimitri to share a dance.

Emboldened, she’d pressed her body a little too close to his and lifted her arms to clasp them around his nape. The top of her head had barely reached his chin, and she’d arched her neck, offered him a bewitching smile and teased that he had yet to bestow a birthday kiss.