Mediterranean Tycoons. JACQUELINE BAIRD
Lisa grinned. That’s telling him, she thought, and she almost walked in on the two men at that moment. But still she hesitated. What she could not understand was how Alex knew Nigel so well. To her knowledge they had only met twice. Once at the hotel when she herself had met Alex for the first time, and again at their wedding. Yet Nigel was a visitor in Alex’s penthouse, and seemingly was quite at home.
‘Hey, no offence, but we’re both men of the world. Which reminds me. Does the delectable Margot know you’re in town for the night, alone?’ Nigel’s now slightly slurred tones cut into Lisa’s troubled thoughts like a knife. Who was Margot?
‘No, and get to the point of this visit. I must ring Lisa soon.’
‘Got you on a short rein has she? Don’t worry; stick her in front of a computer and she won’t notice where you are. The term “computer nerd” was invented for the likes of Lisa. I bet she took her laptop on your honeymoon.’
Why, the insulting little toad! Lisa fumed. As it happened, she had brought her laptop with her this evening, to use tomorrow, but that did not make her a nerd. Nigel was only jealous because she was computer literate and he couldn’t tell the difference between the Internet and a hairnet! Once more she reached out for the door, and stopped again as Alex responded.
‘The only lap she was on top of was mine,’ he drawled. Lisa felt the colour flood her cheeks and as quickly vanish as her new husband added, ‘and that is how it is going to stay. Her working days are numbered, I can assure you.’
Deciding herself to cut back on her working life was one thing, but to have Alex arrogantly say she had to, was quite another! She loved Alex to bits, but she had no intention of letting him walk all over her. As she listened, her anger turned to horror.
‘Well, that is really what I wanted to ask. I’m having a bit of a cash-flow problem, and I need your confirmation that the sale of Lawson’s will go through as soon as possible. The river frontage is a goldmine, as you and I know; Shakespeare’s birthplace is the ultimate tourist trap. The quicker you have the land, and I have my finder’s fee and a share of the selling price, the quicker I can invest in your development plans for the site.’
Lisa leant back against the wall, her face grey beneath her golden tan, her legs trembling. She could not believe what she was hearing. Could not bear to believe it. Alex, the man she had fallen head over heels in love with, the man she had married, the man she had thought loved her, was in league with her no-good stepbrother to try and buy Lawson’s and redevelop the site. She stifled the groan that rose in her throat and listened, praying it was all a mistake.
‘I don’t think so. I don’t need any investors.’ Alex’s clipped tone gave her hope. Now he would denounce the whole plan. But she was wrong.
‘But your man promised I could have stake in it.’
‘I’ll need to check, and if that is so, then of course you can. But could you afford to? Even with your father’s share of the sale? It will be your father’s share I take it?’
‘Yes. The old man doesn’t need the money. He has a fat pension to look forward to. As I’m his only son and heir, it’s immaterial whether he gives me the cash now or when he dies.’
‘Has Harold agreed?’
‘I haven’t asked him yet. But he will, he never refuses me anything.’
‘Lucky you. But, as I understand it, Lisa owns fifty two per cent and your father thirteen per cent; the other thirty five per cent is held by the heirs of the original partner in the firm. You’re hardly going to get a fortune. In fact…’ The deep, slightly accented voice dropped lower and paused tantalisingly. ‘My wife is madly in love with me. She may simply give me the company without any necessity on my part to acquire the other forty-eight per cent.’
Lisa bit hard on her bottom lip to stop the cry of outrage bursting forth.
‘Why you sneaky devil.’ Nigel burst out.
‘Enough. I would not dream of accepting a gift of that size from a lady, not even my wife. I don’t believe in being beholden to anyone, man or woman,’
‘Sorry. No, of course not. But are you sure Lisa will go along with your plan for Lawson’s? Her mother flatly refused to sell a year ago.’
‘A year ago Lisa had not met me. Now she is my wife, and soon, hopefully, the mother of my children. I can safely say she will not have the time or the inclination to continue at work. She will do as I say. You have nothing to worry about Nigel. You will get yours; I promise you that.’
Lisa closed her eyes, her whole body shivering with pain and anger. The shocking discovery that her husband was about to betray her, not with another woman but with her stepbrother, had cut to the very centre of her being. It had razored her nerves and turned her into a seething mass of conflicting emotions.
Alex’s love, the wedding, everything had been one big sham. Alex and Nigel were plotting between them to take over Lawson’s. To redevelop the site! Over her dead body, Lisa vowed.
The week her mother had been diagnosed as having cancer, an approach had been made to buy Lawson’s. Lisa racked her brains but she could not remember the name of the company. It certainly had not been Solomos International and there had been no mention of redeveloping the site; developing a partnership had been the impression given. Her mother, Harold and herself had briefly discussed it at the time. Her mother had decided against it; Lawson’s Designer Glass was to stay a family firm as a memorial to Peter, and, as it happened a few months later, also to herself.
Lisa shuddered. The pain was waiting for her, she knew, but with brutal determination she blocked it out and allowed rage, fierce and primeval, to consume her mind. For a second she was tempted to burst into the living room and confront the two rats who were plotting against her…
Instead, ice-cold reasoning prevailed. She did not need to hear any more, and silently she returned to the master bedroom.
LISA started towards the dressing room, her first thought to get dressed and go. Then she realised the futility of such a gesture. In order to leave she would have to confront Alex, and she was not ready to do that. She doubted she ever would be.
She shivered anew, not with pain but remembered pleasure. Alex, her husband, her lover! He only had to look at her and she went weak at the knees. She and a few million other women, she tried to tell herself. And how many of the other, faceless women had known the wonder of his lovemaking, the seductive power of his caress, his kiss, the magnificent strength of his sleek, hard, toned body?
Lisa groaned in disgust at her own weak will and, swinging around, glanced at the bed. Very soon now, Alex would ring the house at Stratford-upon-Avon and discover from Harold that she had left to join him in London. Panicking, she crossed to the large patio window that opened out on to the balcony and slid it open. Stepping out, she took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm down. Tomorrow 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