The Valentine Affair. Mary Lyons
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she had been taking stock of her luxurious surroundings, the room had been gradually filling up with journalists from most of the daily newspapers and those magazines concerned with finance. Busy chatting to one another, it wasn’t until two men walked through a door at the far end of the room that the general conversation ceased and the audience began taking out their notebooks.
Seated behind a large, stout figure in a gabardine raincoat, Alex had difficulty in seeing what was going on. However, as soon as she moved her chair slightly, giving herself a better view of the table at the end of the room, she realised with a jolt that—thanks to Ben—there was no need for her to seek out Leo Hamilton.
That he hadn’t changed at all was the first coherent thought to emerge from the swirling chaos in her mind. But then, as her vision cleared, Alex realised that she was mistaken.
It was now nearly eight years since she’d last seen Leo, and, while his outward, extraordinarily handsome appearance might seem little altered, he now clearly saw no reason to hide his obvious command of the situation, or the overpowering strength of his forceful personality. He had, in fact, matured into a tough, resourceful man, and it didn’t look as if nowadays that firm, hard mouth laughed very much, if at all.
The bright light from the chandelier cast a sheen on his dark hair, highlighting a few threads of silver at the temples. His skin was very tanned, as if he spent most of his time in the open air—not the usual environment for a banker. Or that of a man who, if James Boswell was to be believed, apparently spent a great deal of his time in the bedrooms of beautiful women!
But clearly that aspect of his life had been left aside as he calmly welcomed members of the press. In fact, Leo’s tall figure appeared perfectly relaxed—the wide, powerful shoulders and lean hips accentuated by the immaculate formality of his well-cut, dark grey lounge suit—as he smoothly explained the reasons behind his bank’s new merger with a German financial institution. Watching the cool, unruffled way in which he dealt with a host of questions from the assembled journalists, Alex had no problem in understanding why he’d been chosen to present this exercise in public relations.
But, while Leo appeared to be exuding an air of relaxed charm, he didn’t succeed in fooling her...not for one minute! Because, as she knew only too well, beneath the suave and charming exterior Leo Hamilton had always been as hard as tungsten steel.
The perfect example of an iron fist clothed in a soft velvet glove, Alex reminded herself grimly, unable to prevent an icy shiver of apprehension from feathering down her spine.
Buried in unhappy memories, it was some moments before she realised that the meeting was breaking up. Noting that, while one or two journalists were busy checking some final points with Leo, the majority of those present were slowly leaving the room, she muttered a brief goodbye to Ben before mingling with the crowd as they made their way out through the door.
One swift, rapid glance around the large foyer was enough for Alex to see that she’d have to move sharply if she wished to avoid attracting the attention of either the receptionists or the commissionaire, who was now carefully shepherding the press corps out of the building. Using a group of journalists as a shield, she edged towards the bank of lifts, slipping inside and quickly punching a button at random.
‘Hello, Dora,’ she called out some minutes later, having charmed a passing office boy into giving her not only the exact location of Leo’s office but also the name of his personal assistant. ‘I’ve just popped in to see Leo. Is it all right if I wait in his office?’
Glancing up from her desk, Dora stared at the slim figure standing in the open doorway.
Quite certain that she’d never seen this person before, Dora was also well aware of Mr Hamilton’s inflexible rule that girlfriends were never allowed anywhere near his office. And, since no respectable office would dream of employing anyone with that untamed cloud of fair, sun-bleached hair tumbling down around her shoulders—not to mention one wearing such a disgracefully short black skirt over long slim legs encased in sheer black stockings—she clearly didn’t work here, at the bank.
However, just as Dora was about to pick up the phone and call Security, she took another, hard look at the girl leaning casually against the door. You didn’t have to be a serious follower of fashion to realise that suit must have cost a fortune. And those Gucci shoes and matching handbag on its gold chain wouldn’t have been exactly cheap, either. So...
Oh, heavens! It looked as though she’d nearly made a dreadful mistake. Because, of course, this extraordinarily attractive-looking girl must be Mr Hamilton’s new fiancée.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise...’ Dora muttered, rising quickly from behind her desk. ‘It’s Miss Fiona Bliss, isn’t it?’
‘How did you guess?’ Alex smiled happily at the older woman. ‘Er...darling Leo is just finishing a meeting downstairs. So, is it all right if I wait for him in his office?’
‘Of course.’ Dora beamed at the girl and led her into the palatial mom. ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘I’d sell my soul for a cup of coffee,’ Alex admitted with a grin, waiting until Leo’s secretary had left the room before sinking down into a leather chair.
‘Phew!’ she muttered with relief a little while later, gratefully sipping her hot coffee—and thankful that she didn’t have to go through such an exhausting charade every day of the week. What a piece of luck, his secretary mistaking her for Leo’s fiancée! Although exactly what she was going to say or do when he returned to his office, she had absolutely no idea.
However, while she had the chance, maybe she ought to have a good look around his office? If her articles were going to be a success, it was important to try to pick up some clues about both his present lifestyle and his new fiancée.
Unfortunately, there was virtually nothing in Leo’s opulent suite of rooms which couldn’t just as well have been found in the office of any highly successful man—a huge leather-covered mahogany desk with its back to the large window, a grey and white marble mantelpiece over a fake log fire, comfortable black leather chairs and sofa... It all looked depressingly bare of clues. Apart from the fact that there were no photographs, of course. That was definitely odd. Surely he ought to have a picture of his beloved fiancée placed prominently on his desk?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of firm footsteps approaching down the marble-floored corridor. Bracing herself for the forthcoming confrontation, Alex heard his secretary informing Leo that his fiancée was waiting for him in his office.
‘Oh, really...?’ a deep voice queried sardonically, before the door was thrown open and Leo Hamilton walked into the room.
He paused on the threshold, his hard green eyes flicking quickly over the figure of the girl by the fireplace, and Alex held her breath as she stared at the tall, broad-shouldered figure in the doorway.
It was one thing to have viewed this man across the length of the large room downstairs a few minutes ago. But quite another to find herself now standing only a few feet away from Leo’s tall, dominant figure—and almost reeling from the forceful impact of his dark, physical attraction.
How could she have forgotten...? Why hadn’t she remembered the devastating aura of sheer, raw sex appeal projected by this man, who was now studying her with such calm detachment on his handsome, tanned face?
Desperately trying to control a hot flush rising over her cheeks, and the quivers of awareness scorching through her body, she put out a hand to clutch hold of the mantelpiece for support. Fearful memories of their last encounter were now welling up inside her like a sudden sickness, and Alex could feel herself trembling as if in the grip of a fierce tropical fever.
She should never have come here! What on earth had possessed her to even contemplate such folly?
But Leo’s gaze of cool, calm uninterest helped to steady her nerves. She held her breath, watching as he gave a slight, dismissive shrug of his shoulders and began moving across the thick carpet towards his large desk by the window. It was some moments before she realised that,