HELEN BIANCHIN - Mistress By Contract

It was elegant, graceful, and she slowed to a halt beneath the tiled portico less than a metre behind Rafael’s Mercedes.

This was it. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as she slid from the car. She was almost at the heavy panelled double doors when one opened and Rafael stood framed in the aperture.

What did she say? Anything would sound banal, and she simply inclined her head, then turned to retrace her steps. ‘My stuff’s in the car.’

He was there as she reached it, and he extracted both suitcases with an ease she could only admire.

‘I’ll bring the rest,’ she indicated. There was just her satchel, and two boxes of books.

Combined, they represented all her possessions.

‘Leave the boxes,’ Rafael instructed. ‘I’ll bring them.’

How did he think they got into the car in the first place? ‘I can manage.’

‘One,’ he conceded. ‘I’ll get the other.’

‘It’s okay.’

She wasn’t even inside the door, and already they were at odds.

‘I wasn’t questioning your ability,’ he drawled. ‘Merely cautioning against injuring your arm.’

The entrance foyer was large, tiled floor, mahogany cabinets placed in strategic positions against the walls. A wide curved ornate balustraded double staircase led to the upper floor and a magnificent crystal chandelier hung suspended from the ceiling. Wall friezes and sconces adorned the walls, together with works of art.

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