‘Lisa is a perfect match in every way,’ Alex informed him, subjecting Lisa to a slow, sensual appraisal that left no one in any doubt of exactly what he meant.
His father chuckled again. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Turning to Fiona with a smile, he demanded, ‘Shall we tell them?’
Fiona’s eyes lifted to Alex, the smile on her perfectly made-up face one of triumph. ‘Oh, yes, I think your son and his wife—’ she glanced briefly at Lisa, but immediately turned her attention back to Alex ‘—should be the first to know.’
‘Fiona and I are flying to Las Vegas tomorrow afternoon to get married.’
Was the old man aware of the effect he had on his son? Lisa wondered. She felt Alex’s fingers dig into her side, and the increased tension in his body, but not by a flicker of an eyelash did he display his concern.
‘Congratulations appear to be in order all round,’ Alex offered, his eyes narrowing fractionally on his father. ‘I trust everything else is in order also.’
Watching him, Lisa actually felt some pity for her husband in that moment. Having met his mother, and seen the love and affection between them, she realised how hard it must be for him when he was about to gain stepmother number five!
‘Yes, Alex, I visited Mr Niarchos this morning. He will be in touch tomorrow.’
Lisa felt the tension drain out of Alex, and his hand at her waist relaxed slightly.
‘Good,’ he agreed urbanely. ‘Shall we forgo drinks and go into dinner?’
A slight frown of puzzlement creased Lisa’s smooth brow. There was obviously more being said between the two men than the words they spoke revealed. Then it hit her—the mention of the lawyer. Alex was checking his father had made a prenuptial agreement. How sad… But it was nothing to do with her, she told herself, as she walked towards the dining room at her husband’s side. She couldn’t help being aware of the intense interest their foursome aroused in the hotel’s clientele. Mostly down to Alex; she had no illusions on that score. He was an exceptionally impressive man.
The restaurant was filled with customers, but Leo had booked ahead, and the maître d’ greeted him with the familiarity of an old friend. They were directed to a table and a waiter appeared at Leo’s side in a second, quickly followed by the wine waiter.
The best champagne was requested, and Leo ordered for Fiona without bothering to ask. Alex ordered a Waldorf salad for starters, followed by steak and fresh fruit, but at least he had the manners to ask Lisa what she preferred. She selected the pâté and opted for the fillet of trout garnished with prawns and melted butter. Hiding a smile, she recognized Alex had inherited his chauvinistic traits from his father…
‘You’re not watching your figure, then, Lisa?’ Fiona queried, in the first sentence she had addressed to Lisa. ‘But then of course you have never been a model. I have to be so body-conscious; everything must be perfect.’ And with a simpering glance at Leo and a hand on his arm she concluded, ‘But that is how Leo likes me.’
From the lecherous look on the old man’s face as he stared at Fiona’s cleavage—she was wearing a white slip dress that plunged to her waist back and front—Leo would have preferred her like Lisa’s trout: naked but for a covering of butter, Lisa thought dryly, before responding, ‘I’m sure he does.’ She paused for a second, stumped for something else to say. She knew she had just been insulted, but she was too polite to retaliate.
The arrival of the waiter with the bottle of champagne was a timely interuption. The waiter filled all four glasses, and Leo raised his first.
‘A toast to the newlyweds, Alex and Lisa. And the soon to be wed, Fiona and myself.’
Lisa lifted her glass and sipped the sparkling champagne; she touched glasses with the couple sitting opposite.
‘And your husband,’ Alex murmured.
It was a rectangular table, with Leo next to Fiona and Alex at her side. She turned her head slightly towards him and touched her glass to his. ‘Of course, my husband,’ she conceded with a smile, opting for a casual response. There were enough undercurrents of tension in the atmosphere without her adding to it by arguing with Alex.
‘To my darling wife.’ Alex held her gaze for a few heart-stopping seconds, his eyes darkening sensually with muted desire. She knew he was doing it deliberately, but she still had to fight to control the sudden upsurge in her pulse rate, and hastily took a deep drink of the wine and looked away.
Surprisingly, Leo Solomos turned out to be a witty, convivial host. He asked Lisa about her work and family, and congratulated her on her business acumen. The food was cooked to perfection and Lisa slowly began to relax. In fact she discovered she quite enjoyed the company. Though when Leo tried to fill her glass for the fourth time, she refused.
Three bottles of champagne were consumed, and Lisa couldn’t help thinking that for a woman who was so bothered about her appearance, Fiona could certainly down her drink. The only time the conversation flagged was when Fiona spoke. She seemed to have a perfect memory for every modelling assignment she had ever been on, and complete recall of every gown she’d worn. Thankfully, Leo had the happy knack of distracting her by placing a finger on her lips or with a kiss.
Alex on the other hand, played the part of the perfect husband, with reassuring smiles for Lisa or a quick aside to enquire if she was okay. By the time dessert arrived Lisa was happy to concede that Leo was a charming man. His only fault appeared to be his penchant for young women.
She had just stopped laughing at Leo’s tall tale about a donkey that snored, on the island of Kos, and was about to resume eating her fruit salad, when a disturbing realisation hit her like a blow to the stomach. She replaced her spoon in the dish and pushed it away; she could not eat another thing.
‘What is the matter?’ Alex demanded, turning slightly in his seat, his dark head angled towards her. ‘The fruit is not to your liking?’ His thoughtful gaze searched her suddenly pale face, and she realised her husband was a very astute man; he saw far too much.
She forced a smile to her lips. ‘No, it’s fine, but, really, I’ve had enough.’ More than enough, she thought with a heavy heart. It had suddenly occurred to her the friendly smiling Leo opposite was not just Alex’s father, he was also his business partner. If Alex was trying to take over her company, then obviously his father was aware of the situation. The older man’s good humour and friendly interest about Lisa’s work were as false as the marriage vows he kept repeating…
‘Are you sure?’ Alex insisted, placing a finger under her chin and turning her head to face him. She was unaware of the pain shadowing her blue eyes, but it was apparent to Alex. ‘You’re tired and not quite yourself; I forgot,’ he murmured huskily, as he smoothed his finger down her throat. Her pulse leapt at his touch and he noted the fact with a slight twist to his sensual mouth.
‘We can leave now, if you like,’ he prompted softly. ‘An early night would suit both of us.’
‘No, no I’m fine.’ Lisa confirmed, forcing a smile.
Thankfully, the waiter arrived at that moment, and Leo demanded quite loudly, ‘We will have coffee in the lounge. I don’t enjoy a meal without a good cigar afterwards.’
Seated next to Alex on a low leather sofa, his arm casually placed around her shoulders, his fingers on her flesh playing havoc with her nervous system, Lisa chewed on her bottom lip, torn between wanting the evening to end and anxiety about being alone with Alex again. When the waiter deposited the coffee tray on the low table in front of them Lisa leant forward, displacing Alex’s arm, and took a cup of coffee from the tray before the waiter had a chance to hand it to her. Lounging on the sofa to the left of her was Leo, a huge cigar clamped between his teeth, and the stomach-curling smell as he blew smoke out was making her feel sick. At least that was what she told herself as she quickly drained her coffee cup and leapt to her feet, excusing her departure with the need to visit the rest room.
In the cool confines of the marble-walled room, she heaved a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived,
as Fiona walked in. With a brief smile at the other woman, Lisa opened her purse and withdrew a lipgloss. She eyed her reflection in the mirror; there was nothing in her expression, she thought gratefully, that revealed the fraught state of her emotions. The social mask was still in place, and carefully she outlined her full mouth with the rose gloss.
‘Funny to think after this weekend I will be your stepmother-in-law,’ Fiona remarked, standing beside Lisa at the mirror, primping her dark hair. Her brown eyes clashed with Lisa’s in the mirror. ‘And I’m only a year or so older than you.’
More like ten, Lisa thought, but didn’t say so. ‘Yes, well, I don’t suppose you’ll want me to call you Mum.’ She responded with a tinge of sarcasm. She found it very hard to believe Fiona was marrying Leo for any other reason but money.
‘Good God! No! But there’s no reason why we can’t be friends, you and I, after all, we have a lot in common,’ Fiona said with a smug grin. ‘The way you hooked Alex was absolutely brilliant.’
‘The way I hooked Alex?’ Lisa prompted, her blue eyes puzzled. She had not ‘hooked Alex’; it had been the other way round.
Oblivious to Lisa’s surprise, Fiona carried on, ‘So quickly. I couldn’t have done better myself. Well, I didn’t, did I?’ She grimaced. ‘But I’ve got Leo. Though I don’t mind admitting when I met the pair of them in March, at Leo’s sixtieth birthday in Nice, I had every intention of going after Alex. It was obvious to me—feminine intuition, if you like—that he was fast losing interest in that Margot creature. He was distinctly cool towards her. No, if I hadn’t had to go to the Caribbean on a modelling assignment, I would have given you a run for your money over Alex. Still, Leo’s not too bad—and, let’s face it, they’re both as rich as Croesus.’
‘But surely you must love Leo,’ Lisa prompted. To think a woman was marrying for money was one thing; to be told she was seemed quite extraordinary to Lisa.
‘Oh, I do. I love his money, and he’s not a bad old stick.’ With a last casual flick at her hair she turned to leave. ‘Come on, we’d better get back. You can’t leave a couple of wealthy men like those two on their own for too long, there are a lot of predatory women out there.’
Lisa chuckled; she couldn’t help herself. Anyone more predatory than Fiona would be hard to find. She followed the other woman back to the lounge and her blue-eyed gaze instinctively settled on Alex.
He was the epitome of male sophistication, lounging back on the deep leather sofa, his long legs stretched out before him in casual ease. The man was sinfully attractive. A tiny shiver of excitement quivered deep inside. And, as she knew only too well, he was a deeply passionate and wickedly sensual lover. Fiona was wrong about the pulling power of the Solomos wealth, she thought, a wry smile curving her mouth as Alex stood up at her approach. He could be a pauper and he would still have women falling at his feet.
‘You’re smiling; you must be feeling better.’ Dark eyes scrutinised her slightly flushed face. ‘But I think it is time we left.’ He lifted a large tanned hand and let his fingertip trace the purple shadows under her eyes in a fleeting gesture that made her whole body tense. ‘Okay?’
Lisa looked up into his eyes, the smile fading from her face. It wasn’t okay, but she really had no alternative. ‘Yes,’ she agreed, and managed not to flinch when his dark head lowered and he pressed the lightest of kisses on her soft lips.
After reiterating their congratulations on Leo’s forthcoming nuptials, they said goodnight and left.
Lisa stepped outside into the mild night air, and took a deep breath to clear her head and to steady her wildly fluctuating emotions. She loved Alex; he only had to look at her and she ached for him. To deny him was to deny herself the wonder of his lovemaking, the pleasure she found in his arms. Yet she no longer trusted him.
The doorman was holding open the door of a black cab and Alex, with a hand in the small of her back, was urging her forward. She slid along the seat and Alex followed, casually placing a long arm around her slender shoulders. She immediately shuffled further along the seat. Alex cast her a sidelong glance, one brow arched quizzically, but he made no comment as he simply hauled her back against him. Leaning forward, he instructed the driver on their destination.
The warmth of his large male body, the subtle scent of his cologne all conspired to break down her reservations about their relationship. As Alex sat back, his glance lingered for a moment on the long length of her legs. She attempted to pull the hem of her dress lower and he chuckled, leaning his head back against the seat.
‘You did that the very first time I set eyes on you. Not still shy, Lisa?’ he teased.
‘Not at all,’ she denied, but felt foolish. But then most women were foolish where love was concerned, she thought sadly, unless one happened to be like the Fionas of this world; unfortunately for Lisa, she wasn’t. Sighing, she let her head fall back; she was tired, and with Alex’s warm hand cupping her bare shoulder, his thumb gently kneading the back of her neck, she gradually felt the tension ease from her body. Why fight it? she asked herself. If Alex had married her to get Lawson’s, she would find out soon enough. Meanwhile, why not enjoy her marriage while it lasted? After Alex she knew she would never marry any another man. A soft sigh escaped her and she allowed her head to rest on his broad shoulder, and he held her in a comfortable silence as the cab navigated the London streets.
It was only when they entered the private elevator which would take them to the penthouse that Lisa felt the tension returning. She glanced at Alex as he pressed the requisite button and the metal doors slid shut, closing them into the luxuriously carpeted box. ‘How do you feel about your father’s up-coming marriage?’ she asked, more to break the silence than out of any real curiosity, as the elevator whisked them ever nearer the apartment, and the bedroom…
Alex flicked her a glance. ‘Don’t be concerned; I am not,’ he drawled in a dry, mocking tone. ‘I gave up worrying about my father years ago.’
‘You don’t mind he’s marrying a woman younger than you.’
‘Why should I? We will hardly ever see them,’ Alex responded dismissively.
The elevator doors swung open and she flinched as Alex reached for her arm and guided her across the hallway to the apartment. ‘But he is your father…’ she insisted.
‘Drop it,’ he snapped as he opened the door and ushered her into the apartment.
‘Aren’t you worried about him? You must care for him.’
Closing the door behind him, Alex said bluntly, ‘It is really not your concern, Lisa. Now, do you want a nightcap, or shall we go straight to bed?’
His response simply confirmed her judgement of the man. Alex did not even care for his father, so what hope had she of him genuinely caring for her? None! She didn’t want a drink, but neither did she want to go to bed—at least not with Alex. Or so she told herself. ‘I’ll have a very small cognac.’
Dropping her purse on the hall table, she kicked off her shoes before following him into the living room. She watched as he crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured a small amount of cognac into a crystal glass, and then twice as much of the liquor into another glass. Turning around, he closed the distance between them, a glass in each hand. He held out the smaller measure to her. As she took it, her fingers brushed against his.
She resented the way a simple touch set her pulse racing, and, glancing up at him, she resented even more the way he knew exactly how she felt. She wanted to rage at him, demand to know about his deal with Nigel. She needed to know the truth. But she could not bring herself to ask.
‘You look angry,’ he observed with narrowed eyes. ‘And there is no need. My father is perfectly able to look after himself.’ Lifting his glass to his mouth, he drained it, then placed it on the table. ‘But perhaps it is not my father’s wedding that has angered you. Perhaps something else,’ he mused. ‘You’re not still thinking of last night’s farce? I thought we had settled that,’ he declared, eyeing her speculatively.
‘No,�
�� she swiftly denied, and in truth Nigel, not Margot, was behind her simmering anger. ‘I’m simply amazed you can dismiss your father’s marriage so lightly.’ Tossing back her head, she swallowed the cognac in one go.’ Leaning forward, she deposited her glass on the table. Straightening up, she realised he had moved closer. But he made no attempt to touch her.
‘Somehow, I don’t think my father is the real reason for all the latent anger that shimmers in your expressive eyes, nor do I think it is because of Margot’s untimely intrusion into our life. So, I have to ask myself, what exactly is it that you are hiding?’ he queried silkily.
He was too close, in more ways than one. The ease with which he had seen through her attempts to hide the real reason for her anger was worrying. ‘I’m not hiding anything.’ Lisa paused, then added with a flash of inspiration, ‘Unless you consider a conversation with your future stepmother in the rest room a secret.’
He tipped his arrogant head back, a dangerous gleam lighting his dark eyes. ‘Fiona? Explain,’ he commanded hardly.
‘Well, according to Fiona, she and I are very alike, and if she hadn’t had to go on a modelling assignment after your father’s sixtieth birthday party she would now be your girlfriend. Fiona congratulated me on how quickly I nipped in and…’ She hesitated delicately, the beginnings of a smile twitching her lips. She could see Alex detested the idea of women discussing him in the ladies’ room, and she began to enjoy herself.
‘Now, let me think. I believe “hooked” was the term she used. Apparently Fiona sensed you were growing tired of Margot and looking for a replacement.’
His snort of disgust was music to Lisa’s ears. ‘And you’ll be glad to know Fiona wants us to be chums. In fact, she said I was almost as good as she at snagging a man, and she bears me no ill will. Mainly because she has hooked your father, and the money is all in the family.’
‘It’s no more than I expected from her,’ Alex declared.
‘Yes, well, I have often been mistaken for a bimbo, but if she were blonde Fiona would certainly take first prize. She quite happily admitted she doesn’t love Leo, but his money.’ Saying it out loud, Lisa couldn’t keep her own personal sense of outrage out of her voice.
Husband on Trust Page 8
