Husband on Trust
Autor
Jacqueline Baird
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CHAPTER ONE
LISA raised her hands above her head, stretched, and yawned. With only a fine cotton sheet covering her body she felt decadent and deliciously languorous, due entirely to the expert administrations of her very new husband last night.
The door to the ensuite bathroom opened and Lisa’s gaze automatically turned to the man walking into the bedroom. Six feet plus of pure masculine perfection, he was naked except for navy silk boxer shorts hugging his lean hips. He was also strikingly handsome, his strong dark features cast in the classic mould of the Greek male of legend, and he was hers, Lisa thought on a swift, involuntary breath. His thick black hair was still damp from the shower, a stray droplet of water easing its way down his strong throat and lower, to be captured by the curling black body hair that dusted his broad chest.
A lazy smile curved her full lips. ‘Alex,’ she said softly. Just saying his name was a pleasure. Sometimes she felt like pinching herself to make sure the last few weeks had not been a dream.
In the process of pulling on a crisp white shirt, he turned his dark head and his eyes clashed with hers. ‘I know that tone of voice, wench, but forget it. I have to be in London by eight-thirty.’ He grinned and continued dressing, stepping into grey tailored trousers.
‘Spoilsport.’ She pouted, and moved across the bed, allowing the sheet to slip to her waist. ‘Do you have to leave so early?’ she queried huskily, and was rewarded by Alex’s renewed attention. He walked over to the bed and, bending down, brushed his mouth over hers; her lips parted, hoping to prolong the kiss, but abruptly he straightened up.
‘Not this morning, Lisa, I have no time.’ And, turning, he crossed the room, picked up his jacket and eased himself into it. ‘I told you that yesterday, when we drove up here. Today I have meetings lined up in London, morning, afternoon and late into the evening,’ he flung over his shoulder, as he picked up his wallet and keys from the dressing table. ‘And from what your stepfather said last night, you have a busy day ahead of you.’
Lisa sighed; Alex was right. They had arrived back in England last night and travelled straight to her home in Stratford-upon-Avon. 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 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, a long rambling place that sat alongside the river. Her mother had been an accountant. They had married, and by the time they were thirty, and Lisa had arrived, her grandfather and the silent partner Lee, had died.
Her parents had transformed the factory into one of the leading producers of Tiffany lamps and designer glass in Europe. The Lee heirs had had no interest, other than the twice-yearly dividend, and had made no objection to the change of name to Lawson Designer Glass. Her mother had looked after the financial side, and her father, the more artistic, had simply loved designing. Unfortunately he had died in a car crash when Lisa was nine. Two years later her mother had married Harold Watson, a man who had worked for the firm as sales manager for several years and was a true friend.
Lisa had worked here in the school holidays, and then after graduating from university full time. She loved the place; it had been her whole life so far, but now she had Alex. Juggling a husband and a business would be no easy matter. There were going to have to be some changes.
In fact the changes had already started with the death of her mother last year from stomach cancer. Three short months after the diagnosis her mother had been gone. But when she was dying she’d confided in Lisa; she had loved Peter completely, they had been soul mates, and she had thought it her duty to carry on with his work after he died. Her marriage to Harold, she’d admitted, had not been built on the same kind of love.
Harold had been alone ever since his first wife had left him with a small son to look after years before. That small son had been a twenty-seven-year-old man, with his own commercial estate agent business in London, by the time Lisa’s mum had married Harold. As her mum had later confessed, it had been more for companionship than love on her part, but she had hoped Harold would be a good father figure for Lisa.
In that respect her mother had been right. Lisa adored Harold, and the brief visits of his son Nigel had not really impinged on her life. Except for the year when she was sixteen and Nigel had made a pass at her. But, as she’d already been a big girl, she had quickly disabled him with a hard knee to the groin, and it had not been a problem. On the subsequent rare occasions they had met they’d managed to uphold a polite façade.
Smoothing the fine linen of her short skirt down over her hips and adjusting the collar of her jacket, Lisa entered the building, a worried frown pleating her brow.
Her mother had died in Saint Mary’s Hospice, and her dying wish had been that five per cent of Lawson’s be gifted to the hospice. She’d had no time to change her will to encompass this, so Lisa had received fifty-two per cent of the company, and Harold had got the house. He also owned thirteen per cent of the company—shares he had accrued in bonus payments over the years in a scheme her father had set up. The will had passed probate the week before Lisa had married and against her better judgement, she had done as her mother requested the Friday preceding her wedding. The trouble was, she had yet to tell Harold, because she knew he would have insisted on making the donation himself. But realistically she could not see it being a problem as between them they still controlled the company. Now, Lisa had no more time to dwell on the subject, as various members of the staff greeted her return with huge smiles and a few suggestive remarks.
Mary was already in the office when Lisa walked in. A widow of forty with two teenage children, she had worked for the firm for seven years, and as Lisa’s PA for the last year.
‘Welcome back,’ Mary said, looking up from behind her computer terminal. ‘I won’t ask if you had a good honeymoon; I can see it in your face.’ She grinned.
Lisa had invited all the workforce to her wedding. It had been a traditional service in her local church on a Monday afternoon. The reception afterwards at Stratford’s leading hotel, apart from the fact that the best man had taken off immediately after his speech, had been a great party. Lisa and Alex had finally left late in the evening to spend the night in Alex’s London apartment, before flying out to Athens the next morning to board his yacht at the port of Piraeus. Thinking about it now brought warmth to her cheeks.
‘Yes, it was very nice,’ Lisa responded primly, and then winked. ‘My husband is all that, and more!’ Crossing the room, she lingered for a moment at the picture window, glancing at the view of the River Avon and fields beyond. It was a clear, blue-skied June day. A day for lovers to take a picnic and explore the countryside hand in hand. ‘And why I am here working when Alex is in London, I do not know,’ Lisa said out loud, before sitting down on the chair behind her desk and glancing up at Mary. ‘I must be mad.’
‘Madly in love,’ Mary quipped, placing a sheaf of papers on Lisa’s desk. ‘Priority messages, okay?’
Two hours later, musing over a cup of coffee, Lisa realised that Harold was right, all the work was up to date except for a few items that demanded her personal attention.
‘Congratulations, Mary, you’ve done a great job in my absence,’ she surprised the other woman by remarking.
Mary beamed back at her from her desk. ‘Thank you. It’s good to know I’m appreciated, but can I ask you something?’
‘Sure, ask away.’
‘Well, there have been rumours, now you’re married…’ Mary hesitated. ‘Well, rumours you might sell up.’
‘I promise you, Mary, the rumours are completely without foundation. In fact, I was about to ask you if you would like to take on more responsibility. A promotion; doing what you have been doing the past three and a half weeks. Obviously we’ll hire someone else to take over a lot of your existing work. And it would mean a substantial increase in your salary.’ Lisa mentioned a sum more than double Mary’s present salary. ‘Does the notion appeal?’ Lisa asked, grinning at the stunned look on Mary’s face.
‘Appeal? I would love it.’
‘Then get on to the agency and see if you can set up some interviews for Monday, for someone to replace you.’
‘But what about you?’ Mary asked. ‘I mean, you love your work.’
‘Oh I’m not giving up all together. But, let’s face it, most of the work I have left to do today could as easily be done from my laptop at home, or wherever Alex and I happen to be.’
‘Which reminds me,’ Mary chuckled. ‘Have you checked your E-mail since your wedding? I’ve had a couple of messages from a Jed Gallagher in Montana on the office computer which were obviously meant for you.’
Lisa grinned from ear to ear. ‘Jed! I must get back to him.’
‘Don’t forget you’re a married woman now,’ Mary reminded her. ‘Alex Solomos might be drop-dead gorgeous, but you know what they say about Latin types. Jealous to the bone. What would he have to say about your on-line romance?’
‘You don’t understand.’ Lisa grinned at her assistant. ‘Jed is nothing like that. He’s almost like a brother to me. I can remember the first time we linked up. Mum had bought me a new computer for my eighteenth birthday, and I got on-line. One day, whilst flicking through a list of subscribers to one of the chat rooms, I came across Jed. His profile said he was tall, blond, nineteen, and lived on a farm in Montana. I sent him an E-mail and he replied the next day, and that was it. We’ve been mates ever since. I can confide my deepest thoughts to him and he responds in kind. But it’s completely platonic, and as for Alex minding—the man hasn’t a jealous bone in his body.’
Something Lisa had been made very aware of the second week of their honeymoon.
They had berthed in Monte Carlo for the night and Alex had taken her to a glittering party on the yacht of a friend of his father’s. They had been dancing on the deck to the music of a well-known quartet when a man had cut in and, much to Lisa’s chagrin, Alex had agreed with alacrity. Seconds later she’d been in the arms of an overweight man, who had to be sixty if he was a day. And, looking over his shoulder, she had watched Alex talking apparently very seriously to a sultry eyed, black-haired woman, whom Lisa had thought vaguely familiar, until her partner had enlightened her: Fiona Fife, a model, who’d been staying on his yacht till the weekend.
No, if anyone suffered from jealousy, it was herself, Lisa thought moodily.
‘Cheer up, girl, it might never happen.’ Harold’s voice cut into her thoughts as he walked into her office. ‘I’m taking you out to lunch.’
‘There’s no need. I’m having dinner with you tonight, remember?’
‘No you’re not! I’ve been thinking about it all morning. You staying here tonight while Alex is in London. It’s not natural for a newly married couple.’
‘It’s pressure of work, Harold.’ Realistically Lisa knew she would have to get used to spending days at a time without her husband. His business took him all over the world. He had offices in New York, London, Athens and Singapore. And they had not really discussed yet where they would eventually settle down.
Lisa chewed on her bottom lip, her blue eyes troubled. For three weeks they had done nothing but make love, eat, sleep, and occasionally party, in the few ports where Alex had bumped into friends. Today they were back in the real world, and look what had happened: they were apart.
‘Rubbish, Lisa!’ Harold remonstrated. ‘Mary can manage.’ And, turning to Mary, he commanded. ‘Get on the telephone and book a seat on the five-thirty train to London.’ Then, turning back to Lisa, he added, ‘Food first, and then we’ll discuss your future working arrangements.’
‘Actually, I already have—with Mary. I’ve offered her a promotion,’ Lisa informed him with a smile.
‘There you are, then. Give that husband of yours a nice surprise.’
The idea was tempting. Alex had made all the running in their relationship. Only this morning he had teased her about still being shy because she’d had the sheet wrapped around her. Perhaps it was time she showed him she could match him for sophistication. She could let herself into the apartment, slip on her sexiest negligé and seduce him when he got back from his meeting. Just the thought made her stomach tremble, an impulsive action, but why not?
‘I’ll do it,’ she declared firmly, and felt her colour rise at the knowing looks Mary and Harold gave her. Leaping to her feet, she added, ‘Book the seat, Mary, and come on, Harold. If you’re taking me to lunch let’s go.’
After lunch, Lisa did some shopping, and then went back home and packed her bags. Finally, before leaving for the station, she spent half an hour on her laptop, E-mailing Jed. He told her he was back home for the summer after completing his fourth year at college. She was glad for him, because she knew he’d had quite a fight with his brothers to even get to college; they had not approved and had wanted him to stay on the farm. She told him all about the wedding and the honeymoon, and grinned at his last reply.
‘Your marriage sounds as if it’s made in heaven, as does your husband. I’m only sorry it wasn’t me! Only joking. Hey, I’m destined for an even better relationship, I’m sure.’
Lisa sincerely hoped he was.
What was that? Lisa shot off the bed. The sound of a door closing somewhere had awakened her from a light doze. Alex must be back, she thought happily, and, smoothing the white negligé down over her slim hips, she cast a quick glance at her reflection in the mirrored wall and grinned. The astute businesswoman in the smart suit had been transformed into a sexy siren. Lisa hardly recognised herself. Alex was in for a surprise! Barefoot, she left the bedroom and padded along the hall.
‘What do you wish to discuss so urgently?’ The deep velvet voice was instantly recognisable to Lisa as she approached the living room door, and sent a delicious quiver along her nerve-endings.
Then the content registered, and she swore under her breath. Damn! He had someone with him. Served her right for falling asleep, she thought ruefully. But what with getting up at the crack of dawn, working all morning, packing several suitcases, and then travelling down to London, by the time she had unpacked, showered, and had anointed her body in aromatic oil, she had lain on the bed for only five minutes before drifting off to sleep. So now what?
Well, he was her husband. She had to stop being so shy. The sitting room door was very slightly ajar and Lisa reached for its handle to push it open. But she stopped her hand in mid-air. She glanced down at herself and grimaced. She had left her long blonde hair loose, to fall in soft curls past her shoulderblades. As Alex liked it… But she doubted he would appreciate the surprise of her presence if she strolled into the living room in her diaphanous white nightgown, the lacy bodice barely covering her breasts, when he had someone with him. Then she heard the other voice and froze.
‘Just a friendly chat, old boy. I thought you could give me an update on the riverside project, and a drink wouldn’t go amiss.’
Unfortunately, Lisa recognised that other voice, and her heart missed a beat. The nasal tones of Nigel, her stepbrother, were unmistakable.
‘Scotch on the rocks?’ Alex prompted, and she heard the rattle of ice on glass before Alex added. ‘How did you know I was in town?’
‘Simple. I rang the old man this morning, and he told me Lisa was back at work and you were spending the night in London. Can’t say I blame you. Three weeks with only the ice amazon for company would have tried the patience of a saint—and you’re no saint, as we all know!’ A nasty chuckle completed Nigel’s speech.
Lisa stiffened in anger at her stepbrother’s insult, but was slightly reassured when Alex defended her.
‘The lady you are referring to, happens to be my wife, and her name is Lisa. When you insult her, you insult me. You would do well to remember that.’
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.
