The Helen Bianchin Collection. Helen Bianchin. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Helen Bianchin
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474050036
Скачать книгу
he held her close, his lips against her hair as he brushed light fingers back and forth along her spine.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      SPRING was the traditional timing of the springtime gala dinner, hosted by one the city’s prominent fund-raising associations and headed by a media-conscious doyenne who utilised all her people skills to provide a glittering social occasion.

      With so many worthy charities abounding, it was possible for the socialites to lunch and dine out with repetitive frequency, and many did. Others were more selective, choosing to grace only certain events with their presence.

      Tonight’s soirée numbered high on the scale of derigueur attendances, Katrina acknowledged as she entered the grand ballroom of an inner city hotel at Nicos’s side.

      It also entailed some tactful juggling between Siobhan, Andrea and Chloe, who would each be seated at different tables with their individual coterie of friends. Somewhere in that equation would be Paula and Enrique, who retained an intense dislike for each other, but who would for the sake of social etiquette concede to present a united front…whilst doing their best to avoid each other like the plague.

      Add general interest by fellow guests as to the state of Katrina and Nicos Kasoulis’s reconciliation, and the evening resembled something akin to a trial by fire.

      Years of practice as Kevin’s daughter ensured she chose a stunning gown in pale mist-grey with a bias-cut overlay in pale blue polyester chiffon. It moulded her slender curves like a second skin, flaring out from the knee to swirl at her ankles. Tiny beaded straps were a token gesture holding the bodice in place, and her jewellery was confined to a delicate diamond necklace, ear studs, and matching bracelet. Stiletto-heeled pumps completed the outfit. She’d swept the length of her hair into an elegant twist.

      Time spent perfecting her make-up ensured her armour was in place.

      Smile, Katrina bade silently. Facial muscle strain was a small price to pay for surviving the evening.

      ‘Preparing to do battle?’ Nicos murmured as he led her towards their designated table.

      ‘Can you doubt it?’ Katrina conceded. ‘There’s Siobhan,’ she indicated, and felt the brush of his hand at the back of her waist.

      ‘Andrea and Chloe are seated on opposite sides of the room.’

      She offered him a winsome smile. ‘Then let’s go do the greeting thing in order of priority.’

      It was a while before they took seats at their own table, and she had the feeling as the evening progressed that they were merely players on a social stage, each performing a scripted part.

      Did that encompass Nicos’s solicitous attention? The touch of his hand, the slow musing smile that sent tiny lines fanning out from the corner of his eyes?

      There was a part of her that wanted it to be genuine, while another part was afraid to deal with it if it was.

      She had only to look at him to see the man beneath the sophisticated façade. The impeccable tailoring sheathed a male body in superb physical condition, which exuded an aura that was sexually primitive and intensely sensual.

      Those eyes, that mouth… Oh, for heaven’s sake, she chided silently. Control yourself!

      The meal comprised three courses, skilfully broken up by brief speeches, and entertainment. It was while dessert was being served that Katrina took the opportunity to glance around the large room.

      And felt her heart jolt at the sight of a familiar sleek dark head. The height, the stance…

      It couldn’t be, could it?

      Even as she watched, the woman slowly turned, and Katrina sensed the blood drain from her face.

      Georgia.

      What was she doing here? Not so much in Sydney, but here, attending an invitation-only event…

      Then she saw her stepbrother hand Georgia a drink, and everything fell into place.

      Enrique, enraged at her repeated refusal to lend him money, had chosen to cause trouble in the most diabolical way he knew how.

      Dear heaven, why did her life seem filled with fraught situations?

      Her first instinct was to escape. Except that would play right into Enrique’s hands, and she was darned if she’d give him the satisfaction.

      Had Nicos sighted Georgia? Somehow she doubted it. He was deep in conversation with a colleague and, unless she was mistaken, Georgia and Enrique were beyond his peripheral vision.

      Katrina sensed the moment Nicos saw her stepbrother and recognised his companion. He didn’t appear to move, but she was willing to swear most of his body muscles reassembled from relaxed mode to full alert beneath the fine tailoring of his evening suit.

      Almost on cue, Georgia turned slightly and, with a smile and a word to Enrique, she excused herself and began threading her way towards them.

      ‘Now, this will be interesting,’ Katrina declared, sotto voce.

      ‘Behave,’ Nicos warned, and she threw him a stunning smile.

      ‘Why, Nicos,’ she chastised sweetly, ‘I intend to be politeness itself.’

      There would be avid eyes watching every move, every nuance in her expressive features, she perceived.

      The separation of Katrina and Nicos Kasoulis had garnered press at the time. Just as their reconciliation was gaining undue attention now.

      The appearance of Nicos Kasoulis’s former mistress provided a reason for titillating gossip, and it didn’t take much imagination to realise the phone lines would be running hot with conjecture over Georgia Burton’s arrival in town.

      ‘Nicos.’ The name emerged from Georgia’s lips as a sultry purr, while at the same time her eyes devoured him. ‘I was hoping to see you here tonight.’

      Sure. I just bet you planned it right down to the finest detail, Katrina thought silently as she inclined her head in acknowledgement. ‘Georgia.’

      Georgia’s practised pout held just the right degree of regret. ‘You haven’t returned my calls.’

      ‘I had no reason to,’ Nicos informed her with an iciness that sent shivers down Katrina’s spine.

      ‘Not even for old times’ sake? We go back a long way.’

      ‘It’s over. It has been for some time.’

      Her expression was mildly calculating. ‘How can you say that when we have a child together?’

      ‘You have a child,’ Nicos conceded, ‘whom we both know is not mine.’

      ‘Still in denial, Nicos?’

      ‘Perjury is a punishable offence.’

      ‘So is refusing to take responsibility for one’s child,’ Georgia retaliated.

      ‘Your bravado veers towards the incredible,’ Nicos stated grimly.

      ‘Incredible aptly describes your sexual skills.’ Georgia shifted her gaze to Katrina. ‘Surely you agree?’

      ‘I’m not into ego-stroking,’ Katrina proffered with pseudo sweetness.

      ‘And you think I am?’

      Katrina didn’t bother to answer, and watched as Georgia offered a practised smile, then turned and melted into the milling guests.

      ‘That went down well.’

      Nicos spared her a dark glance. ‘She’s courting trouble.’

      ‘And you won’t stand for it?’ Katrina queried, feeling the anger stir beneath a veneer of