A Passionate Surrender by Helen Bianchin

Author:Helen Bianchin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Classic Romance, Fiction
ISBN: 9781426883101
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2002-09-30T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

ANA followed the delivery van into the bowels of Celine's apartment building, and secured the lift while Harry, the delivery guy, transported the buckets of cut flowers.

'That's everything, Harry?'

'The lot.'

'OK, let's go.'

Harry did the heavy work, then left, and Ana utilised the laundry as her work-station.

'I trust you won't make a mess.'

Ana glanced up from separating various stands of natives, and aimed for a pleasant smile. 'It'll be minimal, Celine, and contained here.'

A half-hour should have been sufficient, but it took twice that as Celine changed her mind on previously agreed displays.

If Ana had been mean-spirited, she would have said it was a deliberate attempt to minimise her ability and expertise.

She silently repeated 'the customer is always right' mantra, and maintained a professionally polite demeanour. But it was difficult, very difficult!

At last all three displays finally earned Celine's grudging approval, and Ana began restoring the laundry to its former tidiness.

It didn't take long, and she emerged into the hallway, empty buckets in hand, her equipment neatly stacked in a holdall.

'Watch your back, darling,' Celine advised coolly as she led the way to the door. 'I play to win.'

"And you don't care who you hurt in the process?'

The woman plucked an imaginary speck from the sleeve of her blouse. 'Not at all.'

'Naturally, Luc is the prize.'

'Of course.'

'You've neglected one aspect in your campaign,' Ana said carefully.

'And what's that?'

'Luc's willingness to play.'

'You don't get it, do you?' Celine queried. 'Men of Luc's calibre think nothing of maintaining a mistress.'

'While the wife turns a blind eye, accepting the lifestyle, social prestige, and unlimited spending money in lieu of fidelity?'

'You could do much worse.'

'Sorry, Celine. That's not what I want for myself or my child.'

A concerted smile tilted Celine's carefully painted mouth. 'Can I take that as a given?'

'Absolutely.'

It wasn't the best exit line she'd ever offered, but she derived a sense of dignity as she walked from the apartment and took the lift down to the basement carpark.

It was late when she arrived home. Luc's Mercedes wasn't in the garage, and when she checked her cellphone there was a text message relaying a business meeting had ran over time and they intended winding it up over dinner.

A message Perros confirmed as she made her way through the foyer to the kitchen.

'I've made vegetable soup, with a steak salad.'

Oliver appeared through the doorway and stalked across the tiles to brush himself against her leg. She bent down and scratched behind his ear, then stroked his tummy when he rolled over onto his back.

'I'll go shower and change, then be down in about fifteen minutes.'

Tonight she chose to eat indoors, and afterwards she settled down in front of the television set, channel-hopped, then riffled through the collection of DVDs, found one that appealed, and slotted it into the player.

At nine Petros brought her freshly made tea, then he retired to his flat.

The movie ran its course, and she wavered between slotting in another or going to bed.

Bed won, and she settled Oliver in the laundry, then made her way upstairs.

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