Mediterranean Tycoons. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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to explain what you are doing? Or shall I guess,’ he drawled cynically, moving to stand inches from her. His hand plucked a pair of crimson lace briefs off the top of the pile of clothes she was carrying, and swung the offending garment back and forth on one long finger.
He had caught her at a disadvantage, with her back to the door and her hands full. She had nowhere to go. ‘Put them back,’ she muttered, the colour rising in her cheeks, and she knew her face must almost match the briefs.
‘I think that is my line, Lisa.’ A faint smile tugged the edges of his mouth, but the expression in his eyes was still totally cynical. ‘That room is your study, nothing more. So try acting like an adult instead of a spoilt child and return these.’ He dropped the red briefs back on to the pile of clothes. ‘Back to where they belong, in the master suite. I thought we had settled our differences this morning. I hope I was not wrong?’ Shrugging out of his jacket, he hooked it over one shoulder and with his free hand began unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.
He was too close, his height and wide shouldered frame intimidating. Her gaze slipped to the broad expanse of his tanned chest, and Lisa felt the familiar flood of warmth weaken her defences. She fought against it and, glancing up, her eyes met his. He knew how he affected her, at least on a sexual level, but to her surprise a tender smile curled his mouth.
‘Sometimes I forget how innocent you are,’ Alex murmured, and trailed a long finger over her burning cheek.
She felt about two inches tall, and totally foolish. She had decided to stay with Alex, but no way was she climbing meekly back into bed with him. ‘Not any more,’ she said bitterly, ‘you saw to that.’
‘Hush.’ He pressed a finger to her lips. ‘Allow me to apologise. You should never have been subjected to what happened last night. The lady had no right to intrude on our privacy, and it was unkind of me to even hint that you were in any way at fault. As your husband, it is my duty to protect you from any embarrassment, and I singularly failed to do so.’ With the pad of his finger he flicked her bottom lip before dropping his hand to his side. ‘Please forgive me.’
Lisa’s mouth fell open and her blue eyes widened to their fullest extent on his serious face. Alex apologising and begging forgiveness? She could hardly believe it.
‘Forgive you?’ she parroted.
‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘I should have realised you, with your lack of experience of predatory females who are all too common in the world, were in no position to argue with a woman like Margot. The golden purity that drew me to you in the first place should have reminded me of the fact. So, once again, am I forgiven?’
His deep velvet voice flowed like honey over her raw nerves, and in a voice she hardly recognised as her own, Lisa said, ‘Yes, apology accepted.’ In that moment she would have forgiven him murder. His body moved in close against her own, his dark head bent and he angled a kiss across her open lips, a kiss of tenderness and gentle possession.
Lisa stared up into his sexy, slumberous eyes as he raised his head and moved back a pace. ‘Thank you, Lisa.’ he husked.
Fighting down the urge to fling her arms around him—an impossible action given she was still holding a pile of garments, she realised, glancing down at her overloaded arms—she was suddenly aware of where she was and what she had been doing, and she stumbled into speech. ‘Actually, it is I who should thank you. The computer is brilliant; it was good of you to buy it for me, but no need.’ She was babbling, but couldn’t seem to stop.
‘Enough, sweetheart.’ Alex grinned, and with a toss of his dark head he indicated the door opposite. ‘After you.’
Her nervous tension dissolved and, taking a deep breath, she slipped past him and into the dressing room. Alex confounded and confused her, and retreat seemed the best option, but that did not mean she was going to crawl back into bed with him. Moving swiftly, she quickly placed the lingerie and clothes in the requisite drawers and the closet. His apology, she knew, was genuine, but it did not alter the fact he was about to betray her, by dealing with Nigel. Perhaps that was the difference between men and women, Lisa thought sadly. Men could separate business completely from their emotional life.
Lisa, unfortunately, could not. By the same token, she knew she would never agree to Lawson’s being flattened to make way for something else. It was her parents’ memorial. Maybe that made her a poor businesswoman, but she did not care. There had to be more to life than simply the pursuit of riches. But she had a growing conviction her husband did not share her view.
Reluctantly she walked back into the bedroom; she heard the sound of the shower from the ensuite bathroom and heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t have to face Alex again just yet; a glance at her watch told her it was five. Time to have a cup of tea and restore her equilibrium before she got ready for the evening ahead.
‘Pour me a cup,’ Alex commanded, and Lisa almost dropped the teapot. He had showered and shaved and was sporting a pair of well-washed jeans and nothing else.
‘I didn’t think you drank tea?’ she murmured.
Pulling out a chair opposite her he sat down. ‘If you do, I do. It is part of marriage, the sharing.’ Alex’s faintly accented statement had a mocking edge as he reached out and accepted the cup she had automatically filled for him.
‘Yes, yes, I suppose so,’ she acknowledged.
‘Which is why I thought, tomorrow, you and I could spend the day in the countryside. I had my people get on to some real estate agents while we were away, and they have come up with a couple of quite decent looking properties.’
‘Properties? You mean houses?’
‘But of course.’ And with a brief glance around the kitchen Alex returned his attention to her puzzled face. ‘This place is adequate in the short term, but obviously we will need a family home. Knowing you as I do the country is the answer, I think.’
Lisa sipped her tea, unsure of how to respond. She had always lived in a large house on the outskirts of Stratford-upon-Avon; she had only to walk out of her garden to take a stroll along country lanes. Alex was right; she did prefer the country. But what of Alex? While not notorious as an international jet-setter like his father, she wasn’t sure she could see him as a country squire. ‘Do you actually have a proper home?’ she surprised herself by asking. ‘I mean, apart from here?’
His black eyes twinkled with laughter. ‘I hate to spoil my image, but in fact I actually still live with my mother. Officially my residence is the villa on Kos. The yacht is berthed in the harbour there, and whenever I have time I go back home. Otherwise I tend to stay in an apartment the company owns, or a hotel.’
‘Of course!’ Lisa exclaimed. ‘I should have guessed the villa we stayed in when we visited your mother was yours.’ She remembered thinking at the time that the sitting room and bedroom of their suite had had a very lived-in feel about them; the pictures on the walls had been mostly of boats—a hobby of Alex’s—and there had been a couple of trophies for yacht racing that had borne Alex’s name. For a few timeless seconds her eyes locked with his and they shared a mutual memory of a night spent in sheer bliss.
‘Yes,’ Alex confirmed, his eyes sweeping over her shoulders and the curve of her breast before returning to study the surprised and faintly embarrassed expression on her delicately etched features. A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. ‘But now I think I am old enough to own my home,’ he teased. ‘Don’t you agree?’
Lisa couldn’t disagree without getting into a morass of lies. The truth was not an option. She was waiting to see if Alex was going to betray her, along with her stepbrother. She gave the only answer she could think of. ‘Yes, well,’ she qualified, ‘we will see.’ And, pushing back her chair and getting to her feet, she added, ‘But right now I’d better get dressed. What time did you say we were meeting your father?’
Only the slight narrowing of his dark eyes gave away the fact her evasion had been noted and disliked, but, rising to his feet, he said, ‘Seven or seven-thirty. I have a few calls to make in