There was confetti, rice, and much laughter as they escaped to the limousine. A short drive to an inner city hotel, and then the ascent by lift to the suite Carlo had booked for the night.
Aysha gave a startled gasp as he released the door then swept her into his arms and carried her inside.
‘Now,’ he began teasingly, as he pulled her close. ‘I get to do this.’
This was a very long, intensely passionate kiss, and she just held on and clung as she met and matched his raw, primitive desire.
Then he gently released her and crossed to the table, where champagne rested on ice.
Aysha watched as Carlo loosened the cork on the bottle of champagne.
Froth spilled from the neck in a gentle spume, and she laughed softly as he picked up a flute to catch the foaming liquid.
‘I’ve done that successfully at least a hundred times.’ He partly filled another, then he handed her one, and touched the rim with his own. ‘To us.’
Her mouth curved to form a generous smile, and her eyes... A man could drown in those luminous grey depths, at times mysterious, winsome, wicked. Today they sparkled with warmth, laughter and love. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms. Hold and absorb her until she was part of him, and never let go.
‘Happiness, always,’ said Aysha gently, and sipped the fine champagne.
He placed the bottle and the flute down onto the coffee table, then he gently cradled her face between both hands.
‘I love you.’ His mouth closed over hers in a soft, open-mouthed kiss which reduced her to a quivering boneless mass.
‘Have I told you how beautiful you looked today?’ Carlo queried long minutes later.
After three times she’d stopped counting. ‘Yes,’ she teased, pressing a finger against the centre of his lower lip. Her eyes dilated as he took the tip into his mouth and began to caress it slowly with his tongue.
Heat suffused her veins, coursing through her body until she was on fire with need.
‘There’s just one thing.’
He buried his mouth in its palm. ‘Anything.’
‘Fool,’ she accorded gently, and watched in fascination as his expression assumed a seriousness that was at variance with the day, the hour, the moment.
‘Anything, cara,’ he repeated solemnly. ‘Any time, anywhere. All you have to do is ask.’
She closed her eyes, then slowly opened them. It frightened her to think she had so much power over this man. It was a quality she intended to treat with the utmost respect and care.
‘I have something for you.’
‘I don’t need anything,’ Carlo assured her. ‘Except you.’
She kissed him briefly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ What she sought reposed within easy reach, and she took the few steps necessary to extract the white envelope, then she turned and placed it in his hand.
‘Cara? What is this?’
A telephone call, specific instructions, a lecture on the necessity to protect her interests, and time out in a very hectic schedule to attach her signature in the presence of her legal advisor.
‘Open and read it.’
Carlo’s eyes sharpened as he extracted the neatly pinned papers, and as he unfolded and began to scan the affidavit it became apparent what she’d done.
He lowered the papers and regarded her carefully. ‘Aysha—’
‘I love you. I always have, for as long as I can remember.’ She thought she might die from the intensity of it. ‘I always will.’
It was a gift beyond price. ‘I know.’ Carlo’s voice was incredibly gentle. Just as his love for her would endure. It was something he intended to reinforce every day for the rest of his life.
‘Come here,’ he bade softly, extending his arms, and she went into them gladly, wrapping her own round his waist as he enfolded her close.
The papers fluttered to the floor as his lips covered hers, and she gave herself up to the sensual magic that was theirs alone.
Heaven didn’t get much better than this, Aysha mused dreamily as he swept an arm beneath her knees and strode towards the stairs.
‘Ti amo,’ she whispered. ‘Ti amo.’
Carlo paused and took possession of her mouth with his own in a kiss that held so much promise she almost wept. ‘In eterno.’ Eternity, and beyond.
Helen Bianchin
‘I’M ON my way.’ Cassandra released the intercom, caught up her evening purse, keys, exited her apartment and took the lift down to the foyer where her brother was waiting.
At twenty-nine he was two years her senior, and he shared her blond hair, fair skin and blue eyes. Average height in comparison to her petite frame.
‘Wow,’ Cameron complimented with genuine admiration, and she responded with an affectionate smile.
‘Brotherly love, huh?’
The ice-pink gown moulded her slender curves, its spaghetti straps showing silky skin to an advantage, and the diagonal ruffled split to mid-thigh showcased beautifully proportioned legs. A gossamer wrap in matching ice-pink completed the outfit, and her jewellery was understated.
‘Seriously cool.’
She tilted her head to one side as she tucked a hand through his arm. ‘Let’s go slay the masses.’
Tonight’s fundraiser was a prestigious event whose guests numbered among Sydney’s social élite. Held in the ballroom of a prominent city hotel, it was one of several annual soirées Cassandra and her brother attended on their father’s behalf after a heart attack and stroke two years ago forced him into early retirement.
Guests were mingling in the large foyer when they arrived, and she summoned a practised smile as she acknowledged a few acquaintances, pausing to exchange a greeting with one friend or another as she selected iced water from a hovering drinks waiter.
Observing the social niceties was something she did well. Private schooling and a finishing year in France had added polish and panache. The Preston-Villers family held a certain social standing of which her father was justly proud.
While Cameron had been groomed to enter the Preston-Villers conglomerate from an early age, Cassandra chose to pursue gemmology and jewellery design, added the necessary degree, studied with a well-known jeweller and she was now beginning to gain a reputation for her work.
Mixing and mingling was part of the social game, and she did it well.
Committee members conferred and worked the room in a bid to ensure the evening’s success. The hotel ballroom was geared to seat a thousand guests, and it was rumoured there had been a waiting list for last-minute ticket cancellations.
‘There’s something I need to discuss with you.’
Cassandra met Cameron’s gaze, examined his expression, and restrained a faint frown as she glimpsed the slight edginess apparent.
‘Here, now?’ she queried lightly, and waited for his