Mediterranean Tycoons. JACQUELINE BAIRD
On the death of her mother nine months ago, Lisa had inherited the major share in the family company, Lawson Designer Glass and her mother’s job as managing director. Her stepfather, Harold Watson, was the marketing director.
‘You’re right; I know,’ Lisa grudgingly conceded, and, sitting up, she swung her long legs over the side of the bed. She grasped the sheet and wrapped it around under her arms, sarong-style and stood up, flicking a glance at Alex as she did so.
‘Amazing! You hide yourself in a sheet.’ A dark brow rose quizzically. ‘I have seen everything many times, no?’ he drawled, and, turning his back on her, he picked up a silk tie, and slipped it under his shirt collar.
Lisa hesitated and, realising how ridiculous it was to cover herself in front of him, she let the sheet fall to the floor. A month ago she would have died if any man had seen her naked, but Alex had cured her of almost all her inhibitions. Her gaze lingered on his broad back; the exquisitely tailored jacket hung perfectly off his wide shoulders, the few tendrils of black hair curling over the collar an endearing dent in a picture of sartorial elegance, she thought with a grin. At that moment Alex turned back round and caught her staring.
His deep brown eyes flared for an instant, as his glance swept her from head to toe. Lisa was a tall girl, five feet nine inches, but perfectly proportioned, with high, firm breasts, a narrow waist, slim hips and legs that went on for ever. The three weeks of their honeymoon, which they had spent sailing around the Mediterranean on Alex’s yacht had given her skin a golden glow, the sun adding natural streaks of platinum to her long blonde hair.
‘I guess the honeymoon is over and work beckons for both of us,’ she said huskily, hiding a smile. She could tell he was rethinking the need for an early departure. From the moment she had met Alex he had awakened a sensuality in her twenty-three-year-old soul that she had not known she possessed. She had taken one look at him in the lounge bar of a local hotel and had fallen in love on the spot. It had been the same for Alex; they’d spent the next day together and by the evening he had proposed marriage. She would have slept with him there and then, so overwhelming was the passion she felt for him. But Alex, with iron self-control, had insisted they wait until they were married. Four weeks later they had been. Her wedding night had been a revelation: Alex was the perfect lover—he had fulfilled all her wildest dreams, and then some!
‘I have a feeling our honeymoon will never be over,’ Alex declared throatily, and, stepping towards her, he lifted his hand to stroke the soft curve of her cheek. The simple touch was enough to make her pulse race and her stomach clench with excitement. His dark eyes holding hers, his hand trailed tantalisingly down to her shoulder and traced over her breast and waist before hauling her hard against his long length, his head sweeping down to capture her mouth with his own. The kiss was deep and devouring, and when it ended Lisa stared up at him, totally enslaved, her heart bursting with love for him.
‘But for today it is,’ he added, letting her go. ‘We don’t have time to discuss it now, but you are going to have to sort something out about Lawson’s. I want you with me, Lisa, not tied to a desk.’ He paused. ‘Well, not unless it is my desk,’ he qualified, his dark eyes dancing with wicked amusement.
‘Naughty man!’
‘It is not me who is stark naked!’ he drawled mockingly and, with a swift pat on her derriere, he added, ‘Go shower, and I’ll go make the coffee.’
Ten minutes later, having showered and wearing a long blue towelling robe, Lisa strolled into the kitchen of the elegant ten-roomed house that had been her home for as long as she could remember. Alex was leaning casually against the worktop, a coffee cup in one hand, a mobile phone in the other, talking in rapid-fire Greek. He glanced across at her as she walked in and indicated the coffeepot with a wave of his cup, but didn’t stop talking.
Lisa poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the breakfast table, her blue eyes lingering on his rugged profile. His black hair was swept back from his broad forehead; thick black eyebrows arched over deep-set brown eyes; his nose was a straight classic line and his mouth a sensual invitation—perfectly sculptured lips, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top. But at the moment, they were tight with anger.
The honeymoon was certainly over. Alex Solomos the entrepreneur was back. Lisa knew he was the owner of a large company, Solomos International, which his father had started as a small construction firm in Athens. But since Alex had assumed control the company had expanded into a variety of different interests worldwide, all successfully.
Taking a sip of her coffee, it struck Lisa quite forcibly that although he was her husband she did not really know a lot about the man she had married. He was Greek, an only child. Alex had told her that his parents had divorced when he was seven and his father had married again and again, almost wrecking his business in the process. Until Alex had stepped in and taken control after the third divorce, insisting his father must make a prenuptial agreement in any future marriage. Two more marriages had ensued, which was why, Alex had explained, they must have a prenuptial agreement. He could not have insisted on his father doing so and then refuse to do so himself. Lisa had agreed, and had quite happily signed on the dotted line.
Lisa had met his mother on her honeymoon, when Alex had berthed the yacht in the harbour at Kos and they had spent the night in a luxurious villa overlooking the sea with the elegant silver-haired woman. In her halting English she had told Lisa Alex was named after Alexander the Great. The old lady had explained her family was partly of Macedonian descent, the same as his namesake, a man who had conquered the whole of the known world centuries ago, including the island of Kos.
A vivid mental image of Alex, his naked body entwined with hers on the large bed in the villa, flooded her mind. She had teased him about Alexander the Great. ‘I hope you don’t take after the man in every respect, because, according to most historians, although the man was married he was gay.’
Alex had responded with, ‘Then I must prove otherwise, wife,’ and had proceeded to make love to her until they were both satiated by passion. Afterwards she’d quite happily conceded he was great, in at least one department…
Thinking about it now brought a dreamy smile to her lovely face. She lifted the coffee cup to her mouth and drained it, her glance straying once again to Alex’s long body. She could easily see the connection. He was a stunningly attractive man, and with the same type of ruthless energy and drive that conquered worlds. Which, when she thought about it, made it all the more amazing that he had fallen in love with her and married her… In the last three weeks Alex had introduced her to the world of the senses, as well as to the sophisticated lifestyle of some of his wealthy friends.
Suddenly he clashed the phone down, and Lisa’s eyes widened at his thunderous expression. ‘Bad news?’ she asked.
‘My father.’ He strolled towards her, running a hand through his thick black hair. ‘But nothing for you to worry about.’ He dismissed her enquiry with a shake of his dark head. ‘I must leave. It is a two-hour drive to London, providing the traffic is not snarled up. I don’t have time to waste.’
Lisa stood up and slipped her arms around his waist, the familiar warmth of his body, the husky male scent of him making her heart flutter in her breast. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’
He glanced down at her upturned face, a wry smile curving his firm lips. ‘No. My last meeting is scheduled for seven-thirty this evening, and tomorrow morning I have an eight o’clock breakfast meeting. You stay here, pack what you need, and have it sent to the London apartment. We will make that our base for now. But we will have to discuss something more permanent. Get your own work up to date and then I suggest you consider employing someone to take your place. Talk it over with Harold. You seem to be fond of your stepfamily. Something I’ve never managed to achieve,’ he concluded dryly.
‘Yes, yes, I am. Harold worshipped my mother, and he has always been brilliant with me. But…’ She got no further.
‘Good,’ Alex cut in. ‘Spend the evening with him; he will be glad of your company.’ His dark head bent and he brushed the top of her head with his lips, before curving his hands around her upper arms and putting her away