Mediterranean Tycoons. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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man. He was an arrogant, merciless adversary, a powerful man who always got what he wanted, and she should have recognised it the night she met him.
She recalled that first Sunday when she had gone out with him and when he had asked her to marry him. Then she had thought his proposal the most romantic thing in the world. But he hadn’t asked, he had told her. She could hear his voice now. ‘I am going to marry you, Lisa. You are going to be my love, the mother of my children.’ She had thought he was telling her he loved her. What a joke! He had recognised the overdue sexual awakening in her eyes and had used it for his own ends. He had secured a very lucrative business deal, and an innocent girl as his wife and mother of his children.
Alex was a throwback to the Dark Ages, a pure male chauvinist. His reaction when she had met Jed was understandable, given his flint-hearted nature. Like Caesar’s wife, Lisa had to be above reproach, and the slightest hint that she was not, had been enough to cast her out.
The door opening broke into her bitter musing. ‘Lisa?’ Harold walked into the office and frowned. ‘What’s up? You look dreadful.’
Silently she handed him the letter and watched while he read it.
‘Good, good.’ He visibly relaxed. ‘I’m delighted you’re going to meet Alex. I know he loves you. It’s obvious this meeting is a ploy so you can get back together again.’
‘You think so?’ Lisa responded dryly. Harold didn’t know about the divorce; she hadn’t the heart to tell him. He thought they had just had a fight.
‘Of course. It couldn’t be anything else. He knows you hold the majority of shares in the company anyway.’
‘Yes,’ she lied. And watched Harold leave happily. She still hadn’t told him about her donation to the hospice, and obviously neither had Alex when he’d convinced Harold to sell. Poor Harold would be devastated if he knew that by selling to Alex, he had destroyed any chance Lisa had of keeping Lawson’s. Let him be happy for a few more days; he would know soon enough after Friday.
The scales had fallen from her eyes and she could see it all clearly. Alex had manipulated and deceived from day one. It wasn’t enough for him that he had broken her heart; now he was intent on grinding her into the dust beneath his feet, along with Lawson Designer Glass.
But not necessarily… Lisa mused, the light of battle sparkling in her blue eyes. She spent the next half hour on the telephone to her lawyer. The following day she spent walking around Stratford-upon-Avon until she had found what she was looking for…
At five minutes to twelve, Lisa parked her car in the hotel car park and slid out. With trembling hands she smoothed the short black skirt of her fine wool suit down over her hips and adjusted the bright red collar of her blouse over the lapels of her tailored jacket. She had taken special care with her make-up, and had swept her long hair back off her face and into a knot on the top of her head. On her feet she wore black stiletto shoes coupled with sheer black silk stockings that accentuated the length of her legs. Tightening her grasp on her briefcase, she walked into the hotel.
Lisa crossed to Reception, and enquired of the male receptionist directions to the Oberon Suite. He responded with a broad, admiring smile, and told her it was on the first floor.
Her stomach churning with nervous tension, she glided across the lobby, a tall, stunningly attractive and elegant woman, totally unaware of the admiring glances of every man in view.
Ignoring the lift, she ascended the stairs to the first floor. The Oberon Suite. Wasn’t Oberon the king of the fairies in A Midsummer Night’s Dream? she mused, as she walked along the wide hall reading the door signs. It hardly suited Alex’s macho image, but she needed a touch of magic if she hoped to survive the next hour with her pride intact. She had to face Alex one last time and let him see she didn’t give a damn!
Her eyes flicked over a name-plate and she stopped. Taking a few deep breaths, she lifted her hand and knocked firmly on the door; straightening her shoulders, she composed her face into a cool, polite smile and opened the door.
Two sofas covered in blue velvet were set either side of an elegant fireplace, at the other end of the room was a large rectangular table set with the accoutrements for a business meeting. But the model building placed in the centre of the table confirmed her worst fear: the proposed redevelopment, no doubt. Lisa moved into the centre of the room. She glanced again at the table, and as she did so a large black leather high-backed chair that had been facing the window suddenly spun around.
‘You came. Brave of you. I had a bet with myself you wouldn’t.’ With the sun behind him she was not able to see his face clearly, but it made no difference; she knew that slightly accented voice as well as her own. It was Alex…
‘And on time as well. Would you like to take a seat and we can begin?’
Her legs trembled, and it took an enormous effort of will to walk to the table and sit down on the nearest chair. ‘Good morning.’ She gave the conventional greeting without looking at him, and, placing her briefcase on the table in front of her, she clasped her hands tightly in her lap and waited.
‘As the only two shareholders, in what is really a family business…’
Alex began to speak, and at his mention of ‘family business’ Lisa’s head jerked up, her eyes narrowing angrily on his dark face.
His black hair was longer than when she had last seen him, but the tanned handsome face still wore the mask of derision she remembered so well. He was enjoying this, she realised bitterly. Not content with discarding her like so much garbage, he wanted to watch her be destroyed. Why else would he mention that Lawson’s was a family firm, other than to rub in her failure to retain it? Well, he was not going to get away with it if she had her way.
His black eyes caught hers and she immediately looked away, unable to stand the intensity of his gaze. ‘I have had my architect prepare a model to show you how we envisage the finished complex.’
Lisa’s glance skimmed over the model, but she didn’t see it. She wasn’t interested.
‘What do you think, Lisa?’ The strident question had her glancing at Alex once more. He was watching her, a wary anticipation in his dark eyes. Why, she had no idea. Alex knew damned well that she couldn’t oppose him. In fact, she had decided she was not going to try. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
‘I think you’ve said it all. Do you want to go through the charade of taking a vote?’ She could almost taste the tension in the air. The hairs on her neck were standing on end; it was sheer bravado that enabled her to hold his gaze. ‘All in favour say aye,’ she announced facetiously, and lifted her hand.
‘Lisa, you haven’t even looked at the model.’
‘What’s the point? You own Lawson’s, have done for months. It’s yours to flatten to the ground. I wish you luck with it.’ Her gaze roamed over his perfectly chiselled features and she felt the beat of her heart quicken, knowing it was time to have her say and get out.
‘The only reason I am here is to tell you I am prepared to sell you my forty-seven per cent stake at the same rate as you paid Harold. But, in return, I want the right to retain the name Lawson Designer Glass. So, do we have a deal?’ she asked firmly.
His dark brows rose and she could see she had surprised him. ‘Why?’ Alex settled back in his chair, his narrowed eyes fixed on her face.
‘Does it matter? You’ve got what you want—the land, the river frontage…that was all you were ever interested in.’ She made no attempt to hide the edge of bitterness in her tone.
‘You malign me, Lisa. Not a good idea when you are asking for a favour.’
‘I don’t want a favour from you. I want what is mine: my name.’
‘I thought your name was Solomos.’ The taunting softness of his comment made her anger rise. But she refused to give in to it.
‘Not for much longer, and you know perfectly well what I mean.’