was Mid-summer’s Day and tonight was clear and light, although it was ten o’clock. A panoramic view of London stretched out before her, tinged with gold as the evening sun slid towards the distant horizon. Much the same as her confidence in her marriage was sliding into oblivion, she thought bitterly.
She squared her shoulders; self-pity was an emotion she despised. She had to think, to do something, but what? It was still warm; she could spend the night outside. Fool! Alex was bound to look for her.
Slowly she turned and reluctantly entered the bedroom again; her eyes slid back to the huge bed, the imprint of where she had catnapped on the coverlet clearly visible. Her head jerked up at the sound of a door closing. Nigel departing, maybe? Any minute now, Alex would make the phone call and discover her whereabouts. Lisa did the only thing she could. She lay back down on the bed. Perhaps if she pretended to be asleep Alex would not wake her. She prayed he would be fooled, because, if not, she had no confidence in her ability to resist the magnetic pull of his virile sensuality. Even knowing Alex had only married her for a business deal, knowing what a wicked, callous swine he was, was still no protection against the force of his potent personality.
Closing her eyes, Lisa feigned sleep, but her mind spun with images of the past. It had seemed so simple not two months ago, when she had fallen in love with Alex at first sight. Fate, Kismet…
It had been Harold’s birthday and Nigel had arrived at their Stratford-upon-Avon home unannounced. He had insisted his father and Lisa had mourned long enough for her mother and that he was taking them both out for a meal at the top hotel in the area.
With hindsight Lisa realised she should have guessed there was something funny going on, because experience had taught her that Nigel only ever visited his father if he wanted something, usually money. His appearance in Statford-upon-Avon on his father’s birthday had been the first time she had seen him since her mother’s funeral. For Harold’s sake, she had agreed to the dinner date, and at nine in the evening the three of them had been sitting in the hotel’s cocktail bar, enjoying after-dinner coffee and Cognacs, when Alex had strolled into the bar.
Lisa would never forget the moment when she had looked up and seen Alex Solomos for the first time. Her body had reacted as if in shock. She’d forgotten to breathe! He was an attractive man, but it had been more than that. Something about him had called out to her innermost being; her stomach had churned and her heart had raced out of control. She’d felt as if she had been struck by lightning.
Wearing a black dinner suit and a brilliant white dress shirt—a perfect foil for his olive-skinned complexion—and standing head and shoulders above every other male in the room, he’d crossed to the bar in a few lithe strides. She’d watched as he’d ordered a drink, before turning around and resting his superbly muscled long-limbed body against the bar. His dark gaze had casually scanned the room his eyes bored.
Lisa, wide eyed and wondrous, had found she could do nothing but stare. Then she’d blushed to the roots of her hair when his deep-set eyes had met hers, and then travelled on down over her body, widening in obvious appreciation on the length of her long legs. She’d been wearing a short black sheath dress and reclining on a low sofa, inadvertently exposing rather more leg than she’d realised. His head had lifted, making eye contact again, before swerving to take in her two male companions. A cynical dismissive smile had twisted his firm lips, and he’d continued his perusal of the room.
Gorgeous, but arrogant with it, Lisa had thought, and, nervously tugging at the hem of her dress, she’d forced herself to look away, taking a swift swallow of her coffee to hide her scarlet face. She had experienced sexual chemistry before, but this was ridiculous.
‘Well, I’ll be damned.’ Nigel had said softly. ‘The great man himself, Alex Solomos.’ Turning to Lisa, he had added. ‘Do you know who he is?’
‘I haven’t the slightest idea,’ she replied coolly, fighting down an urge to ask Nigel to tell her all about the stranger. Along with the urge to mentally strip the man naked!
‘You must have heard of Leo Solomos, his father?’
‘No, should I have done?’ she queried.
Nigel’s pale eyes narrowed rather warily on her face. ‘Probably not, unless you read the gossip pages in the gutter press. Leo Solomos is a Greek tycoon. But he’s rather better known for the number of ladies he has married. The man at the bar is his son. He keeps a much lower profile, but it’s well known in financial circles that he’s the power behind the throne. The old man would have gone bust years ago, simply because of alimony payments, if it wasn’t for Alex Solomos taking control of the company.’
Lisa sneaked a furtive glance back at the man from beneath the mask of her long lashes; she could well believe Nigel. Alex Solomos, with his impressive height and magnificent build, looked every inch the dynamic, powerful businessman.
‘Wait here you two, I’m going to introduce myself. This is too good an opportunity to miss.’ And, to Lisa’s horror, her stepbrother approached the man at the bar, and started to talk.
‘Harold, does Nigel know that man?’ she asked after a few minutes, only too well aware of her stepbrother’s penchant for pushing in where he was not wanted.
‘Well, he does now, Lisa.’ Harold quipped, with a nod in the direction of the bar.
Lisa looked up, and her stomach lurched. Nigel was returning, with the stunning man in tow. Helplessly, she stared at his face. He was incredibly attractive, with classically sculptured features, a mobile, sensual mouth that was twitching in the beginnings of a smile.
‘Nigel suggested I join you for a drink. I hope you don’t mind?’ He turned all the force of his megawatt smile on Lisa, no trace of his earlier cynicism present.
‘You are a friend of his?’ she managed to ask, trying not to stare, and wondering how such a superior example of the male species could possibly like Nigel.
‘Not really. Apparently he recognised me and took pity on a man drinking alone. But seemingly we do have a mutual business acquaintance.’ His voice was low and a little husky, with just the slightest trace of an accent. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. Alex Solomos.’
The hand he held out to Lisa was large and tanned, and when his fingers curled around hers, the heat and strength he generated seemed to sizzle right through her whole body. Lisa looked up into a pair of heavy lidded dark brown eyes, and the intensity of his gaze held her mesmerised.
‘Lisa—Lisa Lawson,’ she stammered, and she did not breathe again until he let go of her hand.
Turning to shake Harold’s hand, he said, ‘And you are Nigel’s father, I believe. There is no mistaking the likeness.’
The three men talked and ordered another round of drinks while Lisa tried hard not to stare at Alex. She was a businesswoman, not some lovestruck teenager, but it was no good. A heady excitement made her blood fizz like champagne in her veins. His hard handsome face, his eyes, drew her gaze like a magnet, and his voice sounded like a caress to her over-sensitive nerves.
Apparently he was in Stratford for the weekend. He had been to see a performance of Richard III.
‘I confess I left at the first interval. My English is good, but not so good I can understand the language of Shakespeare.’
Somehow his confession that he had walked out on the play rather than pretend he understood it endeared him to Lisa even more, and from that moment on she was a goner…
Alex
