and he was lying, he had to be. ‘You’re lying, and I know why—you can’t bear to see Lucas and I happy together. You want to hurt Lucas by trying to break us up, just because he won’t give you your inheritance ahead of time. I can read you like a book, Spiro, you have to dominate everyone around you. Tim might be happy to let you get away with it, but Lucas won’t and that is what sticks in your craw. Grow up, why don’t you?’
Spiro shook his dark head. ‘You’re blind, Amber, plain blind.’ His dark eyes sought Tim’s, his exasperation showing. ‘Now what?’
Tim grimaced. ‘Give it up, Spiro, she will never believe you.’
‘All right, Amber, think what you like.’ Spiro held his hands up in front of him. ‘But do me one favour—I am dining with my grandfather at the hotel tomorrow night. He is having a bit of a party to celebrate a business deal and hopefully his return to good health. He has asked me to bring you along, and, as you say Lucas will not be back until Saturday, there is nothing to stop you. Will you come?’
Amber was torn. She didn’t want to go anywhere with Spiro, but on the other hand… ‘Your grandfather actually asked you to invite me?’ she queried.
‘Yes, in fact he was insistent.’
‘In that case, yes.’ How kind of him, Amber thought, the old man must know Lucas was not in London, and so had asked Spiro to bring her to his party.
‘Good, I’ll pick you up at your place at eight.’ She never saw the gleam of determination in Spiro’s eyes, that made him look uncannily like his uncle for a fleeting instant, as she said her goodbyes and left.
Later that night as she slipped a satin nightgown over her head she walked restlessly around the large bedroom she shared with Lucas. Spiro’s bitchy words had upset her more than she wanted to admit. She slid open one of the wardrobe doors that lined two walls, and let her hand trail across the fine fabric of a couple of Lucas’s tailored suits. The faintest lingering trace of his cologne teased her nostrils, and somehow she was reassured. Lucas loved her, she knew he did, and on that thought she climbed into the king-sized bed and sleep claimed her.
Amber glanced at her reflection for the last time in the large mirrored doors of the wardrobes that formed one wall of the bedroom. She looked good, better than good. Great, she told herself. Her hair was washed and brushed until it shone dark gold, and she had clipped the sides up into a coronet on top of her head, while the rest fell down her back like a swathe of silk. She had opted for a classic black DKNY dress—the fine black silk jersey clung to her body like a second skin, the sleeves long and fitted, the skirt ending inches above her knees. The low-cut square neckline exposed the gentle curve of her firm breasts, setting off to perfection the emerald and diamond necklace she had clasped around her throat. The matching drop earrings glinted against the swan-like elegance of her neck. Both had been presents from Lucas. On her feet she wore three-inch-heeled black sandals, adding to her already tall stature.
Picking up her purse and a jade-green pashmina shawl, she walked down the spiral staircase to the vast floor area of the apartment. She loved the polished hardwood floor, and the carefully arranged sofas that picked out the colour in the cashmere rug. In fact she loved her home. But where was Spiro? He was ten minutes late.
She crossed the room to a large desk, her hand reaching out for the telephone. She would try one last time to ring Lucas in New York. Picking up the instrument, she dialled the number. Two minutes later she replaced the receiver, the same reply as she had got earlier echoing in her head. ‘I’m sorry but Mr Karadines is not in the office today, if you would like to leave a message…’ She had also tried his suite at the Karadines Hotel in New York, and got no reply.
The bell rang and she had no time to worry where Lucas was. Spiro had arrived.
Two minutes later she was seated in the back of a taxicab with Spiro looking very elegant in a conservative black dinner suit and white shirt; the only hint at his rebellious personality was a vibrantly striped bow-tie in red, green and blue.
‘You look rather nice,’ Amber said with a grin. ‘Though I don’t know about the bow-tie.’
‘And you, dear girl, look as stunning as ever.’ But there was no smile in his eyes as he reached out and caught both of Amber’s hands in his.
‘Where to now, Gov?’ the taxi driver asked.
‘Hold it a minute or two,’ Spiro responded, then, glancing back at Amber, he added, ‘You must listen to me and believe me. Tim made me promise that I would tell you before we arrive at the hotel so if you want to cancel you can do so. I am sorry, truly sorry, Amber, but Lucas will be at the party.’
Her hands jerked in his hold but he did not set her free. His brown eyes held hers, and there was no doubting the sincerity and sadness in their depths.
‘How…?’ All the blood drained from her face. ‘How do you know?’ she asked quietly.
‘Because, a rare occurrence for me, I admit, I actually went to work for a few hours this afternoon in my capacity of Assistant Manager at the hotel. I saw Lucas arriving with two guests, Alex Aristides and his young daughter Christina. They went to Grandfather’s suite. Ten minutes later I escorted the two family lawyers to the same suite. Karadines have bought out the Aristides Corporation. The deal was signed this afternoon. Needless to say they didn’t need my signature, although I own half the company. My trustees did it for me. I was given the task of amusing the teenage daughter for an hour. An hour spent standing around in the boutiques in the hotel lobby. The girl could shop for the world.’
‘So it was business—Lucas said he was tied up with business, he would not lie to me,’ she declared adamantly. Though he had lied by omission—he had led her to believe he was staying in New York…
‘Stop, Amber.’ Spiro squeezed her hands in his. ‘Please don’t do this to yourself. Christina Aristides is eighteen years of age and obviously part of the deal.’
‘No, no, Spiro, you’re wrong. Lucas would never do that to me,’ Amber said firmly, but deep down inside a tiny voice of dissent was telling her he might.
‘He is a chip off the old block, as you English say. How do you think Grandfather made his money? As a young man he went to sea on a cruise liner as a waiter. Twelve months later he married the owner’s daughter, a woman ten years older than him, but for a waiter that was some step up. To give him his due, under his control the firm went from strength to strength. But my grandmother was no fool—she knew he had several mistresses and Lucas’s mother was one of them. So she kept the stock in her name, and on her death half went to Grandfather and half to her son, my father. Do you really think Grandfather would have risked his whole business on taking Lucas in, and giving him his name, if my grandmother had still been alive? My parents did not object because they already had half the business.’
‘But that does not mean Lucas would marry for money. He does not need to,’ she defended him staunchly.
‘Amber, Grandfather wants this deal, and Lucas is exactly like him. They are both very Greek, very traditional. Everything is business to them. Lucas will marry the girl. You have no chance, Amber. Believe me, you never did.’
‘You don’t know Lucas as I do. He might just be stringing the girl along until the deal was signed…’ She stopped, realising how desperate she sounded, as if she would rather think of Lucas as a ruthless, manipulative businessman than face the fact he might leave her.
‘Well, I suppose it is a possibility and if that
