The Greek's Bought Wife by Helen Bianchin

Author:Helen Bianchin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Romance, Classic Romance, Fiction
ISBN: 9781426857782
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2005-10-31T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

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Tina woke to the sound of the shower running. It took a second's orientation to realise where she was. Not her suite. Nic's. Mercifully, not his bed.

The push-pull contretemps of the previous evening came back to haunt her, and she grimaced a little.

What time was it?

Sufficiently early, she determined, not to have to rise for another twenty minutes. However, there was no way she wanted to be here when Nic returned from his shower.

She slid to her feet, quickly gathered up fresh underwear, shrugged into a towelling robe, crossed to the empty en suite and she didn't emerge until she was showered, partly dressed and her make-up complete, bar lipstick.

Nic was in the process of fixing his tie, and she met and held his steady gaze.

Act, she bade herself silently. You can do it. 'Hi.'

He looked far too male for her peace of mind. Dark tailored trousers, the white shirt emphasising his breadth of shoulder, the inherent vitality he managed to exude without any seeming effort.

A power to be reckoned with in the boardroom.

And in the bedroom?

She didn't want to think about it.

A smile teased the edges of his mouth. 'Sleep well?' He had, knowing she was within reaching distance.

'Yes.' There was surprise, for she couldn't recall waking. With that she disappeared into the walk-in robe, part-closed the door, selected a smart business suit and finished dressing.

Minutes later she caught up her bag, laptop, keys, and made her way down to the kitchen.

'Nic's already left. An early meeting,' Steve explained as she set about organising her own breakfast.

She felt surprisingly well rested. It was Monday, the sun was shining, and the week lay ahead. Another delivery of new stock was due in, and she needed to check out autumn catalogues from several European designers on the net.

There was also a need to check her diary and factor in an appointment with her obstetrician.

Czar lay outside the French doors leading onto the terrace, and she crossed to greet him. His magnificent tail thumped in recognition and he sprang into a sitting position.

'You're to take the four-wheel drive,' Steve reminded her as she made ready to leave, and she gave an expressive eye-roll.

'I'd feel more comfortable if I took it for a test-drive before I face the usual morning rush-hour. Tonight?' she cajoled. 'I promise I'll use it tomorrow.'

'Nic—'

'Pass?' She kept on walking before he had a chance to answer.

Traffic seemed heavier than usual as she traversed the New South Head Road, and it wasn't until she reached the boutique and began collecting her bag and laptop that she noticed the folded sheet of paper she'd discovered tucked beneath her windscreen the previous evening.

An advertisement for local discounted pizza? Buy-a-coffee-get-one-free offer?

She almost scrunched it into a ball ready to bin it, when something—curiosity, instinct?—made her unfold it.

Instead of the expected bulk printing, the page was blank, except for one word scrawled in bright red lipstick. Bitch.

Doing the maths was easy.

Sabine. Had to be.

What got to her was that she'd been watched, followed.

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