Australian Bachelors: Masterful Magnates: Purchased: His Perfect Wife

Maybe she had.

Not an image on which Lara particularly wanted to dwell, for it conjured up other erotically graphic visions that were best ignored.

‘Stefania.’ He leaned forward and brushed his lips to her flawless cheek.

‘My wife, Lara,’ Wolfe introduced smoothly, and Lara saw the beautiful green eyes narrow fractionally.

‘I’d heard the rumour you had married, but I did not believe it.’ She touched light fingers to his mouth. ‘Why, cara, when what we had was so good?’

Lara watched as he captured her hand and gently removed it. ‘We share a friendship.’

‘Friendship, darling?’

‘You were aware it could be nothing more.’

The words were kind, his tone quiet, but the sudden, fleeting glitter in those beautiful green eyes evidenced the woman’s reluctance to accept them, and her mouth formed the perfect moue before she offered Lara a brilliant smile.

‘You have my congratulations.’

If looks could kill, Lara would be dead on the floor.

‘Why, thank you.’ She could do polite charm. Anything else was unacceptable.

‘Wolfe, amigo.’

The hearty male voice provided a welcome intrusion, and Wolfe returned the greeting with a warm acknowledgment.

‘Raf.’

‘I left a message with your PA.’ He turned towards Lara. ‘Raf del Avica. You have my congratulations. My wife had given up hope Wolfe would ever tie the knot.’ His expression became polite as he acknowledged Stefania, then he offered Lara a conciliatory smile. ‘Do you mind if I borrow him for a few minutes?’

What could she say? ‘Not at all.’

‘You wear Wolfe’s ring,’ Stefania uttered with quiet vehemence as soon as both men moved out of earshot. ‘But you’ll never have his heart.’

This conversation had all the portents of digressing into a slang-fest. Verbal dignity was the only way to go. ‘You know what they say,’ Lara intimated with a faint smile. ‘A reformed rake makes the best husband.’

‘And why is that?’

Timing was everything. ‘He’s had the rest and selected the best.’

A soft derisory laugh issued from Stefania’s lips. ‘Don’t fool yourself. A man in Wolfe’s position only marries in order to breed an heir and a spare.’

Lara watched as the exotic young woman turned away and drifted through the crowd.

Well, that was fun!

She let her gaze linger on Wolfe as he conversed with Raf del Avica, noting the superb cut of his dinner jacket as it moulded his shoulders.

It was crazy, for all it took was a look and the blood fizzed in her veins. Instant recognition of a magnetic force over which she had little control … cataclysmic from the first moment she’d met him, and unrelenting in the intervening years, much to her dismay, for it had coloured her perception and become the measure by which she’d regarded the few men in her life.

Men who had been equally attractive, but lacking in the special something that set Wolfe apart.

Sexual chemistry … pheromones. Intense sensuality.

At that moment he turned, almost as if he sensed her appraisal, and she summoned a brilliant smile as he moved to her side.

‘Tell me,’ she began quietly, ‘how many more women can lay claim to you?’

One eyebrow slanted a little. ‘Stefania?’

‘We exchanged an illuminating conversation,’ she enlightened in a dry voice, and saw the edge of his mouth curve with humour.

‘Who won?’

‘Let’s just say it was a draw.’

Minutes later the ballroom doors opened and the guests began seeking their reserved seating.

Everything ran like clockwork, Lara observed, the introductory speeches smoothly professional while uniformed waiters served drinks.

It was a sell-out, despite the expensive ticket price, and there was kudos for the entertaining artists who’d waived their usual fee in order to support a very worthy cause.

Wolfe played the part of loving husband a little too well … with a light drift of his fingers over her shoulders, the press of his hand to her thigh, lifting her hand to touch his lips fleetingly to her palm.

The most outrageous was an attempt to offer her a tempting morsel of food from his fork.

If this was a game, then two could play … and she did, resting her hand on his thigh a little too long. Only to repeat the action, dangerously high, in a seemingly innocent gesture as she engaged the guest seated opposite in scintillating conversation about the endangered species in east Africa.

‘I had no idea you were so knowledgeable,’ Wolfe accorded, and she offered him a teasing smile.

‘Why … I’m just full of surprises.’

He leant in close. ‘If you move your hand any higher …’ he warned in a silky undertone, and caught the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

‘Promises, darling?’ she murmured.

‘Count on it.’

‘Mmm.’ She traced her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. ‘Delicious.’ With blithe unconcern she transferred her attention to the plate holding her main course, and cut a gourmet potato into delicate portions.

What was it about a vibrantly attractive, sensual man that caused women to test their flirting skills? she posed a while later as she used her flatware with delicate ease to sample the dessert course.

The challenge? An innate need to prove they still ‘had it’, for whatever reason?

Maybe to some it was just a harmless game … or possibly the several flutes of champagne were to blame.

One woman at their table became quite blatant in her attempt to gain Wolfe’s attention, which irked Lara more than it should have.

It didn’t help when he covered her hand with his own and caressed a light pattern over the sensitive bones.

Overkill? Or was he intent on making a statement?

She told herself she didn’t care, but that wasn’t entirely true.

The MC introduced the entertainment, a group of musicians who came on stage, and the ballroom lights dimmed as the group went through their number.

Wolfe leant back in his chair as he watched the fleeting expressions on Lara’s features, her faint smile as she applauded a popular number, and the soft laughter at the deliberate antics of one band member as the group parodied a well-known hit.

She intrigued him on several different levels. Circumspect with his credit card, according to Mike, when he’d fully expected her to spend a small fortune.

What was more, she didn’t ask for a thing … and he was willing to swear she hadn’t been sexually active for some time. Unless she was a superb actress, which he seriously doubted, her previous lovers had cared more for their own pleasure than hers.

The music faded, the overhead lights flared to full strength, and the waiters began serving coffee.

The evening was almost at a close, and Lara felt a sense of relief when Wolfe used his phone to alert Mike to bring the car to the hotel entrance.

Her first social occasion as Wolfe’s wife was about to conclude, and she didn’t protest as he caught hold of her hand and threaded his fingers through her own, then he offered their excuses to the remaining guests at their table and rose to his feet.

The Mercedes with Mike at the wheel was waiting for them, and within minutes the powerful car eased into traffic and headed towards their Upper East Side apartment.

It was good to be able to drop the façade as they emerged from the car at the entrance to their apartment building.

‘We managed that well,’ Wolfe opined as they entered the lounge, and she turned towards him.

‘You mean the touchy-feely thing? Stefania? The fact you’re a babe magnet?’ She waited a beat or two. ‘Or is Stefania off-limits?’

‘This is the part where we conduct a post mortem?’

She summoned a superficial smile. ‘Of all your women? How long will it take?’ She deliberately arched both eyebrows. ‘I would like to go to bed before dawn.’

His husky laughter undid her, and without a further word she crossed the lounge and made for the bedroom.

For a brief moment she considered occupying one of the guest rooms, only to change her mind.

Instead, she’d undress, remove her make-up, don her nightshirt, slip beneath the covers on her side of the large bed … and turn her back on him.

Not exactly subtle, but he’d get the message.

Except it didn’t quite work out that way—for she pretended sleep when she heard him enter the main suite, followed by the soft rustle of clothes being removed, and several minutes later she sensed him occupy the other side of the bed.

There was a faint click as the bedside lamp plunged the room into darkness … then nothing.

Silence. No movement. And soon she detected the sound of his even breathing.

He was asleep?

How could he do that, when she so needed to vent …?

Conducting a silent mental fight wasn’t anywhere near as satisfactory as the real thing, and she plotted his downfall in several different ways before drifting to sleep.

CHAPTER NINE

LARA woke to find the bed empty, the apartment quiet, and when she checked there was a set of keys and a note propped up against the kitchen servery from Wolfe, alerting her that he’d already left for the office.

Her phone rang as she was drinking her second cup of coffee, and she picked up to discover Wolfe on the line.

‘I’ll be caught up with business meetings all day,’ he began without preamble. ‘One of which will inevitably stretch into the evening. Don’t wait dinner.’

‘Fine.’

‘Mike will call in the next few minutes, and take you anywhere you want to go. Shopping?’ ‘Thanks.’

Short, polite, the necessities covered.

What had she expected?

So why did she feel disappointed?

When Mike called, she asked to meet him downstairs in ten, and she slipped her feet into comfortable shoes, caught up a jacket, shoulderbag, keys and made for the lift.

‘Fifth and Madison?’ Mike queried as she slid into the front seat. ‘It’ll be a pleasure to act as tour guide.’

She lifted both hands in a conciliatory gesture. ‘OK, I get it. Wolfe’s orders.’

‘Instructions,’ Mike corrected as he swung out into the traffic.

It was a pleasant day, and an interesting one, as they explored the different levels of the Guggenheim museum, studying the displayed art and the special exhibitions featuring major works by nineteenth- and twentieth-century artists in the Rotunda and Tower galleries.

Mike was an easy person to converse with, and it didn’t seem intrusive to ask how long he’d been in Wolfe’s employ.

‘Five years.’

Maybe she’d ask Wolfe to fill in some of the blanks.

Meantime there were places to go, things to see, and who better to have as a companion than someone who knew the city?

He delivered her to the apartment building just before six, and she showered, changed into jeans and a knit top, then made herself an omelette with mushrooms, tomatoes, shallots and cheese. She ate it in the dining room, tidied up the kitchen, then settled herself comfortably in the media room and surfed the cable channels, viewed a movie, then switched to a comedy special.

At eleven she closed down and went to bed, unsure when Wolfe returned, only that when she woke in the morning the bed showed signs of his occupancy, but yet another note awaited her in the kitchen … followed by a call to her phone as she was eating breakfast.

‘I have back-to-back meetings set up over the next few days,’ Wolfe imparted when she picked up. She offered sweetly, ‘I hardly noticed you weren’t here.’

‘In that case, I’ll wake you tonight.’

His drawled response set all her nerve-ends to vibrant life.

‘I’m sure you’ll be too tired.’

His soft chuckle sounded husky on the line. ‘Enjoy your day.’

‘I shall.’

Exercise was a wonderful stress-reliever, and when Mike called to ascertain her plans for the day she opted for a walk through Central Park.

She sensed his inaudible groan. ‘You wouldn’t prefer to go shopping?’

‘Are you inferring you’re not up to it?’ she parried lightly.

‘Five kilometres, no more.’

‘You’re on. With one condition—we get to do lunch.’ She wrinkled her nose at him. ‘Research.’

‘For your Sydney restaurant.’

‘I have a few ideas.’

‘Indeed?’

Lara listed the names of some top New York restaurants.

Mike winced. ‘I’ll phone ahead for reservations. I can feel my waistband expanding already.’

The sun shone, there was a slight breeze and the temperature was cool.

Ideal for walking, and she said so as they headed out.

‘Isn’t this great?’ she enthused some time later as they passed a man-made lake, and then went on to cross a graceful bridge.

There was time for a brief shower and a change of clothes before she met Mike downstairs, and they went out for lunch. The food was divine, the floral displays dazzling, the service faultless, and people-watching provided an intriguing visual diversion.

It was late afternoon when she entered the apartment, and the thought of facing another lonely evening didn’t appeal. There was a charming little bistro a short walk from Wolfe’s apartment, and it would be fun to sample their food.

An hour tops and she’d be home.

Early night-time New York wasn’t all that different from its Sydney counterpart; the street was well-lit and there were people walking their dogs, and a few elderly men gathered together on the sidewalk conversing in voluble Italian.

The bistro was cosy, busy, and the food surprisingly good. It was pleasant to sit and observe, to be a patron instead of working a kitchen.

It was almost nine when she re-entered the apartment, and after ten when Wolfe arrived home.

Was it her imagination, or were the lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes a little more pronounced than she’d remembered?

‘Tough day?’

He removed his jacket and loosened his tie, discarded both, then he crossed to where she sat reading a magazine. Without a word, he set the magazine aside, caged her body, then he laid his mouth on her own, explored a little, and deepened the kiss with an expertise that sent her heart racing.

‘That was hello?’ Lara queried when she caught her breath, and his eyes gleamed with amusement as he scooped her into his arms and positioned her on his lap as he sank down into the chair.

Her image had taunted him throughout the day … the tilt of her mouth when she smiled; the silky feel of her skin beneath his touch; the way she felt in his arms.

He had a need for her that surprised him. Control was an integral part of who he’d become. Essential in the way he conducted business, and natural that it spilled over into his personal life.

‘I can make coffee,’ she offered, and caught his gleaming gaze.

‘A shower, then I get to take you to bed.’ But for now, it was enough just to hold her. ‘You enjoyed your walk through part of Central Park?’

He was close, so close she caught the faint muskiness of his skin as it vied with the almost undetectable drift of his cologne. ‘Mike told you.’ It wasn’t a query, merely recognized fact.

His hand shaped her breast, lingered, then his fingers slipped the buttons free on her knit top and sought the burgeoning peak beneath the light fabric of her bra.

‘So … how was your day?’

‘Meetings, negotiations, a conference call. Invitations.’

‘Social?’

‘A few,’ he drawled as he stood effortlessly and placed her on her feet. He bestowed a brief, hard kiss, and headed towards their bedroom.

Lara met him as he emerged from the en suite, and he crossed to her side, reached for the hem of her nightshirt and drew it over her head as she unhitched the towel at his hips.

Wolfe took his time, rousing her to fever pitch as his need matched her own, and she wrapped her legs round his waist and held on as he took her to the brink, then joined her in a glorious free-fall that left them slick with sensual heat.

In the lingering aftermath he trailed light fingers over her body, exploring the soft swell of her breasts, the dip of her navel, and settled low, seeking the highly sensitized clitoris and stroking it until the breath caught in her throat and she shattered, so caught up in an exquisite climax she cried out with the intensity of it.

Lunch the next day was everything Lara expected it to be, and afterwards with Mike at her side she explored the contemporary galleries, entered one of many shops displaying crafts and exclusive gifts, and made a few purchases to take back to Sydney for Sally, Shontelle and the wait staff, as well as something quirky for Tony.

Wolfe hadn’t indicated he’d be late, and she took pleasure in preparing a delicious salad, coq au vin with gourmet vegetables, followed by crème brûlée and fresh fruit for dessert.

It was almost seven when he entered the apartment, and the blood began pulsing heavily in her veins at the sight of him.

He was something else, and she bit back the desire to go to him, wrap her arms round his neck and invite his kiss.

Instead, she took a moment to drink in his compelling facial bone-structure, the firm muscle-tone beneath olive-toned skin, strong cheekbones, piercing dark-grey eyes … and a mouth to die for.

‘Hi.’

He responded in kind. ‘Interesting day?’

‘Great.’ She watched as he dispensed with his jacket, loosened his tie and slid the buttons free from his vest. ‘I made dinner. You’ve time to shower and change, if you want.’

‘Thanks.’ He collected his jacket and hooked it over one shoulder.

Lara checked the table while he was gone, then she crossed into the kitchen and began serving the meal.

Wolfe appeared as she was ready to take the food through to the dining room, and he collected the plates while she took care of the salad dish and dessert.

Attired in black dress-jeans, a white collarless shirt with the cuffs turned back over each forearm, he appeared relaxed and at ease. A different look from the impeccably tailored three-piece business suit and silk tie.

The casual style lent him a less formidable persona … not more ordinary, for a man of Wolfe’s calibre would inevitably stand apart no matter what he wore.

He projected a dramatic mesh of elemental ruthlessness and devastating sexual alchemy … a dangerous combination coveted by his fellow contemporaries, and admired by women. A bottle of Chardonnay sat chilling in a crystal ice-bucket, and Wolfe filled two goblets, touched the rim of his to her own, and offered an appropriate salutation.

The salad was crisp, the dressing tangy, and the chicken with accompanying vegetables perfection.

It had been a while since she’d prepared a meal for just two people, and there was a certain satisfaction in the provision.

What was more, it was pleasant to sit opposite Wolfe and relax, sip a little wine, and watch him unwind.

His business interests were vast and varied, she knew, and he was putting in long hours to ensure everything would run smoothly following his return to Sydney.

‘I had a text message from Sally,’ she relayed. ‘Lara’s is doing well. Tony is great.’ Her mouth curved into a teasing smile. ‘I think there could be a mutual attraction thing going on between those two.’

Wolfe leant back in his chair. ‘The Sydney interior decorator emailed an update. Everything is on target.’

Lara began gathering plates and cutlery together. ‘I’ll go make coffee.’

‘Before you do, isn’t there something you’d like to tell me?’

There was little she could gain from his expression. ‘Such as?’

‘Your solitary sojourn to a bistro last night.’

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