The Helen Bianchin Collection (Mills & Boon E-Book Collections) Read Free Page B

pleasantly plump woman of middle years entered the room, wheeling a trolley on which reposed two steaming pots, milk, sugar, cream, and various plates containing a selection of small cakes, pastries, and delicate sandwiches.
    ‘It is so good to have you home again,’ Ana greeted as she poured tea, added milk and sugar, then placed the cup and saucer within easy reach on a glass-topped table beside Elise’s chair.
    ‘Thank you.’ It seemed strange to be faced with a woman she must have dealt with on a daily basis in the six months of her marriage.
    ‘I will make dinner for seven o’clock. Is there anything special you would like?’ The smile broadened with pleasure. ‘You have often complimented Ana on her chicken soup.’
    Elise injected warmth into her voice. ‘Chicken soup will be fine.’
    ‘And afterwards? An omelette, with mushrooms, some cheese, a little tomato, ham?’
    ‘That sounds delicious,’ she qualified, watching idly as Ana poured coffee into a demitasse and handed it to Alejandro before leaving the room.
    The tea tasted like liquid ambrosia, and Elise took a small sandwich, savouring the delicate smoked salmon and cream-cheese filling, accepted another, then declined anything further.
    ‘More tea?’
    ‘Please,’ she acceded gratefully, watching his lengthy frame unfold from the chair. His movements were measured and concise, his hands sure and steady as he refilled her cup and replaced it within easy reach.
    ‘Have you lived here for very long?’ The need to converse seemed paramount, and her fingers shook slightly as she lifted a hand and smoothed back an imaginary lock of hair behind one ear.
    His eyes flared slightly at the nervous gesture, and she made a conscious effort to dampen the edge of panic threatening to assume unmanageable proportions.
    ‘A few years. I had the original house removed, then began from scratch.’
    She felt as if she were on a conversational rollercoaster that she couldn’t stop. ‘During the past week I’ve looked at photograph albums which mean very little, and you’ve provided essential information. Tell me more about how we met, and why.’
    His smile assumed musing indulgence. ‘The need to fill in some of the gaps?’
    ‘There are so many. ’
    ‘And you are becoming impatient.’
    ‘Frustrated,’ Elise corrected. ‘I seem to have a hundred questions.’
    ‘All of which you want me to answer at once?’
    Her eyes took on a haunted quality. ‘I need to know.’
    ‘You walked into my office demanding a minimum five minutes of my time.’
    ‘ Why? ’
    ‘Your father had borrowed extensively from my merchant bank, and you refused to accept my decision not to extend the loan or the term.’
    She digested the information slowly. ‘You own a merchant bank?’
    ‘I have many investments,’ he revealed solemnly.
    ‘Was I successful in overturning your decision?’
    He seemed to take his time in answering. ‘You could say we eventually reached an understanding.’
    ‘You asked me out.’ This much she knew, because he had told her.
    ‘You opposed me as no other woman had, questioning my business acumen and condemning me for my lack of compassion.’ Warmth gleamed in the depths of his dark eyes. ‘Your fierce loyalty impressed me, and I was sufficiently intrigued to insist we share dinner. Within twenty-four hours I had persuaded you to marry me.’
    ‘And arranged for the wedding to take place a month later.’ Dear God. Such omnipotence was devastating. She found it vaguely shocking that shehad given her consent. ‘Am I supposed to believe you’re an honourable man, or go with reality?’
    One eyebrow slanted in mocking cynicism. ‘Which reality would you prefer, querida ?’
    ‘You have the advantage,’ she managed, with a degree of sadness. ‘While I possess none.’
    ‘Finish your tea,’ he commanded quietly. ‘Then I will take you upstairs to rest.’
    She wanted to say that she wasn’t in the least tired, but the thought of