Husband On Trust. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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 from him.
Lisa was not sure she liked the arrangement. The thought of even one night without Alex was hard to bear. Although she knew it made sense. ‘Are you trying to get rid of me already?’ she tried to tease. But she realised Alex was already gone, if not in body then certainly in spirit.
‘No. But I have neglected business long enough. As long as you work, we are going to have to get used to spending time apart. Not desirable, but in the present circumstances inevitable.’ And, slipping his hand into his pocket, he withdrew a bunch of keys and removed one. ‘Here is a key to the penthouse. I will inform Security to expect you.’ He handed her the key. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Yes.’ Lisa had only been to his apartment once, on their wedding night, when Alex had introduced her to the joys of love for the very first time. She would have reminded him but he didn’t give her the chance.
He glanced at his gold Rolex. ‘I must go. Make sure you are in London by six tomorrow night, Lisa. We are dining with my father at seven thirty.’ And, with a brief kiss on her open mouth, he spun on his heel and walked out. Lisa followed him into the hall, in time to see him open the front door and disappear through it without a backward glance.
‘Was that the door?’ a gruff voice queried from the top of the stairs.
Lisa turned around ‘Yes, Harold.’ She smiled up at the elderly man descending the staircase. ‘Alex has just left. Give me ten minutes to get dressed and then I’ll get breakfast.’ Running lightly up the stairs, she gave her stepfather a little peck on the cheek as she passed him.
Later, when the two of them sat side by side at the breakfast table, the bacon and egg Lisa had cooked long since eaten, they lingered over their coffee, talking about work.
‘Mary, your PA, has been wonderful,’ Harold said firmly. ‘In fact, no disrespect to you, dear, but I think the woman could almost handle your job.’
‘Thanks very much. Glad to know I was missed,’ Lisa drawled mockingly.
‘I didn’t mean it like that, Lisa, but you are very much a new bride, and your husband has to come first. You should be at Alex’s side, not sitting here with me.’
‘Yes, I know. Alex said pretty much the same. As it is, I won’t see him until tomorrow—pressure of work…’ She shrugged her shoulders and, with a rueful smile at Harold, she pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. ‘Tonight I’ll be dining with you but right now we’d better get to the office.’
They took Harold’s car, a blue Jaguar, and after pulling up in the courtyard of Lawson Designer Glass, Lisa slipped out and viewed her surroundings with a contemplative air. The firm had been the brainchild of her parents. She remembered her mother describing to her how she had met Peter Lawson at a dance in Oxford, and had fallen in love on the spot. He had been the only child of the main partner of the Lawson Lee Glass Factory in Stratford-upon-Avon,