The Millionaire's Virgin. Sophie Weston
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without blinking. ‘Very beautiful indeed.’ Tino’s villa was cloaked in white marble that shimmered peach and umber where the muted light washed over it, and even the shadows came in a tasteful shade of magenta. She imagined the walls might turn to a delicate shade of pink in the first rays of dawn… The building was large, but even without stepping inside Lisa guessed there would be rooms for formal entertaining as well as cosier rooms in which you could live in comfort all year round. The entrance would be grand and imposing, but beyond that there would be secret hideaways—a home within a palace, rather than a showpiece, as she had been dreading… Tino’s home…
‘I expect Constantine is down on the beach.’
The elderly taxi driver cut into her thoughts. The warmth and familiarity with which he spoke the name immediately rang alarm bells in Lisa’s mind, reminding her that Zagorakis was a complex animal—and one she must be constantly wary of.
‘Unfortunately you can’t see the beach from up here.’
Half turning to her, the taxi driver reclaimed Lisa’s attention, angling his shoulders while watching the road. ‘Tino only arrived on Friday, so I expect he will be washing all the stresses of the city out of his mind.’
Stresses of the city? She’d give him stresses, Lisa mused grimly as her thoughts turned to her mission. If Constantine Zagorakis thought he could ditch their deal by remote control while he was enjoying a swim in the sea, he was sadly mistaken.
‘It’s the first thing he does when he comes home to Stellamaris,’ the taxi driver continued, unaware of the tensions building in the seat behind him. ‘Tino loves the ocean, like all Greeks…’
Lisa let his friendly chatter roll over her. It didn’t seem possible the taxi driver was talking about the same man. Even the thought of that brute having something called a home seemed unlikely. Surely Tino Zagorakis lived out of suitcases, always restless, always searching out the next deal?
She sat back as the taxi pulled through some tall wrought-iron gates, preparing herself with some deep steadying breaths. They were travelling slowly down a long, neatly groomed avenue lined with trees. Leading up to the grand villa, it dissected a garden bursting with flowers. In such a hot climate the irrigation alone would be a mammoth task.
‘It is almost May Day—a significant day on Stellamaris. The gardens are at their best.’
Lisa met the taxi driver’s gaze in the driver’s mirror.
‘Soon everyone will be gathering flowers to decorate their houses,’ he went on. ‘You are visiting Stellamaris at the most romantic time of year.’
Lisa’s lips firmed. ‘The villa seems to be built on top of a cliff,’ she said, to distract him from a topic she had no interest in pursuing. ‘How do you get down to the beach?’
‘There are steps cut into the cliff face,’ he explained, ‘but Tino has had a funicular fitted to make it easier for his friend.’
‘His friend?’
‘His elderly friend.’
Constantine Zagorakis had more than one friend? That seemed unlikely.
‘And here we are,’ the taxi driver declared, halting at the foot of some impressive marble steps. Yanking on the handbrake, he switched off the engine.
In spite of everything she had planned—keeping a cool head, securing the deal at any price, etc—Lisa’s heart was thundering. What was she doing here? What was she really doing here? She should have asked for Tino’s e-mail address, and communicated with him safely on that level— impersonally.
Smoothing down her suit jacket, she paid the driver. It didn’t help that she felt so hot and sticky. The tailored trouser suit she was wearing was lightweight, but not lightweight enough. She realised the fingers of one hand were biting like claws into the handle of her briefcase as she waved goodbye with the other.
She tried Mike on the mobile to let him know she had arrived safely, but there was no signal. She really was alone. Turning to stare at the impressive iron-studded door marking the entrance to Tino’s home, she sucked in one more breath, and then ran up the steps.
CHAPTER THREE
LISA realized she was staring foolishly. She had been prepared for most things, but not this. Words refused to form in response to the young woman’s greeting. She could only fight the rigor in her lips, and bob her head.
The girl couldn’t have been much more than twenty-five, and was tall and very beautiful, with a cloud of inky-black hair that fell well below her naked shoulders. She was tanned—evenly, beautifully, naturally tanned—and she smelled fresh, like sea spray, as if she had just returned from the beach. She was wearing something floaty and diaphanous in muted shades of new-shoot green and lemon, over what might have been a bikini—it didn’t feel right to look too closely—and her tiny feet were bare with bright red toenails. And Tino was standing right behind her.
Lisa sensed, rather than saw him. She didn’t trust herself to look. Her head was still reeling. She wasn’t taking anything in too clearly… She shouldn’t care. Of course she shouldn’t care… She ordered herself angrily to get her head up—to look him in the eye. When she did, she found that he was almost a head taller than his beautiful companion, and that his right hand was resting lightly on the young woman’s waist.
The urge to make some angry, guttural sound at the sight of that hand—the same hand that had held her so firmly, the hand that was now resting on another woman—threatened to overwhelm her. Just when she needed all her wits about her, she was transfixed by that hand, and by Tino’s proprietary air towards a young woman he was showing no inclination to introduce her to.
She took matters into her own hands ‘Hi, my name’s Lisa Bond. I’ve come to see Tino on business—’
‘Arianna knows why you’re here, Lisa.’
Like the woman he called Arianna, Tino was dressed casually, as if they had come up from the beach together. Lisa found herself gripped by jealousy: irrational, unwelcome, inescapable jealousy. All she could think of was the touch of his hands on her body and that for a split second before she had pushed him away she had almost lost control.
Both Arianna and Tino were so relaxed, their outfits so normal for any couple living by the sea. Tino’s bronzed feet were naked, and dusted with sand, his casual shirt barely held in place by a couple of buttons. He must have dressed in a hurry… He could hold one woman so passionately in his arms it was branded on her mind, and then coolly return home to another?
Lisa calmed herself. This was business—no need to make it personal. The only way to get money into the bank fast enough to save Bond Steel was to get that money from a cash-rich company like Zagorakis Inc. Zagorakis had to buy her small engineering works. Her personal feelings were irrelevant. She wasn’t going anywhere until the deal was sewn up.
She viewed the couple again, trying to work out what she was up against. There was the wrong dynamic between them for Arianna to be Tino’s sister… And then she noticed Tino’s bleached linen trousers were rolled up almost to his knees. The sight of his naked legs stirred some very primitive emotions inside her, not least of which was the knowledge that Arianna must know how it would feel to have those powerful legs wrapped around her—
Andreas had warned him she was coming. But this was better than he had expected. Seeing Lisa hovering uncertainly on his doorstep gave him a real rush. It was time she learned she couldn’t win every battle in the boardroom, or the bedroom.
She was thrown by the fact that he wasn’t alone, and that his companion was a beautiful young woman. Good. That was her first lesson. She was so used to ruling the roost at Bond Steel, she took too much for granted. No one outside his inner circle could say if he had brothers or sisters, or any family at all. Curiosity about Arianna had to be eating her up inside; he planned to keep it that way as long as possible.
Tino’s face told Lisa very little. What was he thinking? Chasing after