The Greek's Blackmailed Wife
He’d ended it because the kiss had had nothing to do with chemistry and everything to do with revenge. She’d dented his ego and he was punishing her.
What was she doing?
This man was her enemy. Without thinking she’d issued another challenge, this time to his sexuality, and he’d responded by kissing her in anger, using passion as a punishment, not a seduction. The moment his mouth had crushed hers she’d been clinging to him, swept away by a primitive sexual need that she’d only ever felt with this man.
Was she really that shallow?
‘I hate you,’ she whispered, but the words were meaningless even to her because the lips that formed them were soft and swollen from his kisses and the eyes that glared at him were still hazy with passion.
‘I don’t care.’ He stepped away from her with all the grim satisfaction of a male who had very definitely proved his point. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. We’ll discuss terms over dinner.’
Dinner?
She stared at him, muted by the shivers that still affected her body.
‘What?’ He lifted a smooth, dark eyebrow in her direction. ‘No smart remark? No refusal? No, you’re the last man on earth I’d eat dinner with? This isn’t going to be much fun if you’re so compliant, agape mou.’
‘Why d-dinner?’ Still shocked by the intensity of her response to him, her brain seemed to have slowed to a virtual halt.
He dealt her a wry smile. ‘Despite the fact you claim not to be vulnerable to me, I suspect that the only way you and I will ever be able to conduct a conversation of any length, agape mou, is if we meet in a very public place. Hopefully the presence of an audience will curb our natural instincts to strip each other naked.’
She stared at him, shattered at being confronted with such an unpalatable truth. How could she have responded like that? She should have slapped his handsome face, instead of which—
‘I have absolutely no trouble resisting you,’ she croaked and he smiled.
‘Of course you don’t.’
His eyes dropped to her breasts and she was suddenly painfully conscious that her nipples were pushing against the thin fabric of her blouse, visible evidence of her arousal.
Resisting the temptation to cover herself, she lifted her chin, trying to salvage a trace of dignity from the wreckage of her pride.
‘I don’t want to discuss terms.’ She wasn’t going to let him threaten her. ‘I have nothing to say to you, Zander, in private or in public.’
‘Then I’ll do the talking.’ Totally indifferent to her protests, he strolled casually towards the door and then paused, a hint of danger in his glittering dark eyes as he focused his attention on her one more time. ‘Oh, and a word of warning—’ his voice was quiet but she tensed, detecting the steel under that deceptively soft tone ‘—if you want to have a civilised evening, then don’t mention Farrer.’
Civilised?
She almost laughed.
How could an evening with Zander ever be civilised? He was the least civilised person she’d ever met.
‘I won’t be mentioning anything because I’m not meeting you.’
Black eyes slammed into hers, holding her captive. Like two fighters in a ring they faced each other, the atmosphere antagonistic and highly charged.
‘Don’t play games with me, Lauranne,’ he warned softly. ‘The stakes are high. Seven-thirty. And you know well enough that if you’re not here, I’ll find you.’
With that he turned and strolled out of the room with the same degree of cool authority with which he’d entered it.
Lauranne stared after him with helpless hostility, unsure whether to scream or cry. For five years she’d successfully locked her past away. She’d managed to get on with her life. And then Zander had sauntered back into it with his hot black eyes and his arrogant ways and all her attempts to forget what they’d shared, their marriage, were ground to dust. One frantic, febrile kiss later and suddenly her emotions were free again.
When he’d walked through the door she’d been spitting and angry, in fact all the things she should have been five years before when she’d been too distraught to defend herself from his accusations.
She knew now what he was and who he was—
Knew that Zander Volakis didn’t possess a soft side—
But all that had ceased to matter when he’d kissed her. She’d forgotten everything except the burning heat of his mouth, the erotic probe of his tongue and the hardness of his body against hers. And her traitorous, yearning body had responded with a desperation that had been humiliatingly obvious to a man as experienced and sophisticated as Zander.
She slid off the table and straightened her clothes, wishing that her emotions could be tidied with the same ease. The knowledge that he could still have such a powerful effect on her filled her with despair.
It didn’t really matter if he agreed to a divorce, she thought helplessly. What they shared was so powerful that all the lawyers in the world wouldn’t be able to negotiate an end to it. And the only answer was to stay away from him.
Once he discovered that he couldn’t bully her, he’d leave her alone. He couldn’t really ruin the business, she reasoned, mentally running through their list of clients. He was calling her bluff.
Trying to frighten her into submission.
There was no way she was eating dinner with him. In fact there was no way she was going to see him again in any shape or form.
He might be arriving to collect her at seven-thirty, but she wouldn’t be here. And if she knew him well enough to know that he’d find her, then he should also know her well enough to know that she wouldn’t make it easy for him.
If he thought he was going to knock on the door and collect her, then he was in for a long and disappointing evening.
CHAPTER THREE
ZANDER strode out to his sports car, furious with himself and cursing his utter lack of control.
What the hell had come over him? he wondered savagely as he tossed the file on Phoenix PR onto the passenger seat and slid into the car, oblivious to the rest of his team and his bodyguards who immediately swarmed into the car parked behind. He’d virtually jumped her on her table and he never behaved like that. He was a man who prided himself on his self-discipline, on being able to operate without allowing emotions to interfere with his decision-making.
But Lauranne reduced his behaviour to a level so basic that he barely recognised himself.
He’d wanted to punish her—
It had been the shock of seeing her, he reassured himself grimly. He hadn’t expected to see her. And he certainly hadn’t expected to see Farrer.
It had been the desire to wipe Farrer’s name from her lips that had driven him to behave like that, staking a claim where none lay.
And the moment he’d felt her soft mouth open under his he’d been lost, overwhelmed by a raw physical need that he’d never experienced around any woman except Lauranne O’Neill.
Lauranne—
The biggest mistake of his life.
As if to taunt him, a powerful vision exploded inside his brain. A vision of honey-blonde hair and a soft mouth curved in a tempting smile designed to drive a man to the edge of sanity.
Lauranne, with her micro miniskirts, endless brown legs and hotly passionate nature.
Zander gave a humourless laugh. For most of his life he’d watched his father make an utter fool of himself over a string of women and he’d vowed never to do the same thing himself. There was no way he was ever going to get married. He wasn’t so stupid.
But then he’d met Lauranne—
He groaned and leaned his head against the seat of the car, almost able to feel the touch of her mouth on his. From the moment they’d met they’d been enveloped by a scorching fire of passion so intense and primitive that for a short while it had consumed both of them. To the extent that he’d done the one thing he’d always promised himself he’d never do.
He’d married her.
And to this day he didn’t understand why he’d done it.
Breathing heavily, Zander reached out a lean brown hand and flipped open the file that his lawyer had given him, his heart thudding as he gazed at the photograph on the first page.
Had he bothered to open the file sooner he might not now be suffering from a severe case of mental and sexual frustration, he reflected grimly, reminding himself to always check out every company that his lawyer suggested in future. Had he known it was her he would never have agreed to meet her.
Or would he?
Staring down at those amazing blue eyes, he felt a reaction so raw, so primitively sexual that his body stirred in the most masculine way possible. His mouth tightened in bitter self-condemnation. It had always been like that with this woman. From the first moment he’d seen her, sipping a cocktail in one of his bars by the beach, swinging one long tanned leg from the bar stool, he’d been hooked. His reputation for being cool had certainly not been earned on that occasion, he reflected with grim amusement. In fact he’d been so hot for her he’d used every technique in his armoury to ensure that she ended up where he wanted her.
In his bed.
His entire relationship with Lauranne had been one long burn of emotion. He’d brought out the hotly sexual side of her nature and somehow she’d found his sensitive side. Until then he hadn’t even known he had a sensitive side, but Lauranne had wriggled herself into places previously off limits to all females, no matter how beautiful or satisfying in bed.
Zander studied the cool, businesslike photograph of the woman that he’d once known in the most intimate way that a man could know a woman.
He’d been her first lover and that had given him a satisfaction that only a very traditional Greek male could ever truly understand.
She’d been his.
He’d held her as she’d trembled against him, swallowed her cries of ecstasy as he’d introduced her to the pleasures of sex for the first time in her life.
And he’d been ruthlessly unforgiving when he’d discovered her infidelity. His father’s experience of women should have more than prepared him for her betrayal, but the emotions he’d experienced had been so powerful that they’d shocked him. He’d felt out of control and he’d hated that feeling. He’d just wanted her out of his life before he was tempted to do something even more stupid than marrying her.
Like forgiving her.
His mouth tightened slightly as he scanned the rest of the file, taking in her astonishing achievements in the five years since he’d last seen her. Even as the anger simmered inside him, he found himself admiring the way she’d obviously managed to build a successful business from the ashes of the career that he’d personally destroyed.
But that didn’t surprise him. She possessed rare qualities, qualities that he’d spotted within moments of meeting her.
Everything about Lauranne was bright. Her mind, her wit and her shiny blonde hair that had wrapped itself around him in a silken seduction every time they’d made love.
Being with Lauranne had been like gazing into the sun. It had left him blinded and dazzled.
And now she wanted a divorce.
His jaw tightened. He’d never even thought about divorce before she’d mentioned it. He’d just put the whole disastrous episode out of his head and got on with his life.
Intensely irritated by the depth of emotion that the mere memory of Lauranne could evoke, Zander snapped the file shut, his eyes suddenly hard.
Swearing fluently in Greek, he pulled into the flow of traffic and made for his office. He needed a cold shower. A very, very cold shower. And after that maybe he’d be able to disengage his libido and engage his brain.
‘I couldn’t believe it when he walked into the room.’ Tom stared at Lauranne in utter dismay. ‘Tell me you threw him out.’
She gave a wan smile, thinking of Zander’s six-foot-three, muscle-packed frame. ‘Hardly.’
Tom paced backwards and forwards in front of her desk. ‘I need a cigarette.’
‘You gave up six months ago,’ Lauranne pointed out gently and he grimaced.
‘If Volakis is back in our lives then I’ll be taking it up again pretty damn fast.’ Tom’s face was white. ‘And tell me that the two of you are not still married and that you were just playing one of your games. You almost gave me a heart attack when you said “he’s my husband” in that chilly tone.’
Lauranne closed her eyes briefly and curled her fingers into her palms. ‘We weren’t playing games.’
Tom stilled and then shook his head slowly, looking at her in horrified disbelief. ‘Oh, no—no, no, no. You’re not telling me you are still married—’
Lauranne swallowed and nodded.
‘Surely you divorced him?’ Tom’s tone was utterly incredulous and Lauranne bit her lip.
‘I didn’t get round to it.’
‘You didn’t get round to it?’ Tom gaped at her. ‘Why the hell not?’
Because she’d meant every one of her vows. Because divorcing him would have meant facing up to the end of their relationship and she just wasn’t able to do that.
‘Because I didn’t really want to think about it.’
Tom shook his head. ‘And Volakis? What’s his excuse?’
Lauranne bit her lip. ‘I think he probably forgot he was ever married to me,’ she croaked and Tom rolled his eyes.
‘Oh, great. So technically you’re still married to him.’ He let out a long breath. ‘So what did he want? Apart from causing mayhem, which is his favourite pastime, I seem to recall.’
Lauranne folded her hands in her lap to hide how badly they were shaking. ‘He wants me to work for him.’
Tom gave a short disbelieving laugh. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘I wish I was.’
Tom’s mouth tightened. ‘But you’re not going to, right? Tell me you’re not even considering it!’ He raked his fingers through his already-tumbled blond hair and looked at Lauranne with naked exasperation. ‘This is the man who took your heart and trampled it into the dirt, remember? This is the man who slept with another woman, fired you from a job you adored and then did everything in his power to make sure that you couldn’t get another one.’
Faced with the unpalatable truth, Lauranne bit her lip. ‘I know that, and I’m not—’
‘Yes, you are.’ Tom let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head in despair. ‘I know you so well and I know how you felt about him. I also know that there’s been no man in your life for the five years since he dumped you. And I’m beginning to question the real reason that you didn’t get round to divorcing him.’
‘Tom—’
‘You’re already dreaming about him, aren’t you?’
Lauranne opened her mouth, wanting to deny it, but no sound came out.
Tom groaned. ‘Don’t go getting ideas, Lauranne. Zander Volakis is bad news. He might have just walked back into your life but sooner or later he’s going to walk straight back out again, taking all the vulnerable bits of you with him.’
She flinched. ‘I know that and I wouldn’t—’
‘Yes, you would,’ Tom said flatly. ‘You can’t help yourself, and neither can he. It’s like watching a natural disaster in the making. Tell me he didn’t kiss you.’
She felt betraying colour flood into her cheeks and Tom swore softly.
‘I knew it!’ He spread his hands in a gesture of exasperation. ‘The pair of you can’t be in a room and not rip each other’s clothes off!’
‘Tom, please—’
‘Let’s get one thing straight.’ He pointed a finger at her, stabbing the air to emphasise his point. ‘I’m not doing it again! I’m not watching you go through it again, Lauranne. For six months you were an emotional wreck. I had to drag you out of that bed of yours every morning. I’m your best friend, Lauranne, but the guy almost destroyed you. I put you back together piece by piece. I can’t do that a second time.’
‘I’m not asking you to.’ Her voice was little more than a croak as she was forced to face memories that she’d tried to lock safely away. ‘I didn’t ask him to come here. He just barged in and took over—’
‘Conquering Greek tycoon,’ Tom said bitterly, pacing across the office and thumping a fist against the wall. ‘You should have told him to go to hell.’
‘I tried that, remember? His listening skills definitely need attention.’ Lauranne made a pathetic attempt at humour but it fell flat.
‘Divorce him, Lauranne. You’ve got any number of options. Unreasonable behaviour—adultery—’ Tom’s mouth tightened. ‘Or had you forgotten the adultery?’
Lauranne felt a lump build in her throat and shook her head. Of course she hadn’t forgotten the adultery. Until that awful day she’d never known the true meaning of pain.
Tom sighed. ‘So now what? Presumably it was him I saw just now burning up the road in his flash car. Is he coming back?’
Lauranne hesitated. ‘He’s picking me up at seven-thirty to discuss business over dinner.’
‘Dinner?’ Tom gaped at her incredulously. ‘The last time we saw the guy, you were his dinner and so was I! Main course and dessert. He’s a predator, Lauranne, and if you trust him then you’re a fool.’
‘I don’t trust him.’
Tom glared at her. ‘This is the man who landed me in hospital—’
She closed her eyes briefly and shivered at the memory. She’d been so afraid. Afraid of what she’d caused. If she hadn’t kissed Tom— ‘I know that, but he’s Greek and he saw you and I together and he’s a possessive guy—’ She broke off, wondering why she was trying to excuse his behaviour.
Judging from the appalled expression on his face, Tom was obviously wondering the same thing. ‘Possessive? Unhinged, you mean. Does being Greek somehow make you lose your brain?’ His voice was bitter. ‘The guy is supposed to be ferociously intelligent. If he’d looked closely he would have noticed that you’d been howling. Generally speaking when I’m with a woman I don’t make her howl.’
Lauranne bit her lip. ‘B-but he saw me on the bed with you.’
Tom had the grace to look sheepish. ‘Yes—well—’ he shrugged awkwardly ‘—I admit that bit was my fault. I’d been drinking with clients and then you turned up looking all vulnerable and—well—’
‘It’s all right.’ Lauranne reached out a hand and touched his arm. ‘We both know it was just the drink that made you leap on me. Just friends, that’s all you and I have ever been, isn’t it?’
Tom sighed. ‘I learned a long time ago that there’s only one man on this planet that you ever notice,’ he said dryly, ‘so fortunately I gave up on you years ago and found myself a decent love life somewhere else.’
Lauranne gave a wan smile. ‘Glad one of us did.’ Her smile faded. ‘It’s all my fault that Zander hates you. That night when he found us together— I could have punched you on the nose if I’d wanted to but when I looked up and saw Zander standing there all I could think about was revenge. It was my fault really. I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have made him jealous.’
She’d played a dangerous game but she hadn’t been thinking straight. In fact she’d discovered that she was capable of being every bit as stubborn and jealous as Zander.
Tom shuddered at the memory. ‘Well, do us all a favour and don’t make the guy jealous again. Did you see the look on his face when he saw me today? I thought I was dead.’
Before Lauranne could answer Mary came hurrying into the room, pink-cheeked and breathless.
‘That was Zander Volakis! The Greek wonder boy—here—in our office—and you, you—’ she looked at Lauranne, wide eyed. ‘You’re married to him?’
‘In name only,’ Lauranne said stiffly and Mary shook her head.
“I’ve never heard you speak to a client like that before—’
‘He isn’t a client,’ Lauranne said shortly and Mary glanced at Tom, her confusion evident.
‘But he’s probably the richest man in the world. And this is just the sort of challenge that you both love,’ she pointed out. ‘Everyone thinks Volakis is ruthless and cold and this is your chance to prove that underneath that controlled exterior lurks a warm, beating heart.’
If it hadn’t been so painful, Lauranne would have laughed.
A warm, beating heart?
This was the man who had destroyed her life. He’d taken her innocent dreams and crushed them with the same ruthless lack of emotion that he applied to his business dealings.
He hadn’t believed in her—
For a moment the pain and hurt threatened to choke her and she struggled to control her emotions, reminding herself how far she’d come since that dreadful summer five years before.
She wasn’t going to let one kiss destroy that, however passionate.
‘Zander Volakis doesn’t have a heart. He is exactly the way he appears in the press,’ she said shakily. ‘He is cold-hearted and ruthless and there is nothing I or anyone else can possibly do for his public image.’
She was breathing so rapidly that she thought her lungs might explode.
Mary was still staring open-mouthed. ‘I can’t believe you know him—’
Lauranne felt her eyes fill and she shook her head in denial. ‘I never knew him.’
She’d thought she did, but she’d been proved wrong in the most agonising, humiliating way possible.
Even now her naïvety made her blush. How could she have truly believed that a man as sophisticated and experienced as Zander Volakis would want any more from her than a brief fling? How could she have convinced herself that there was more to the relationship than sizzling sex? The man was Greek to the very backbone. His concept of relationships was different from hers. He still believed in virgin brides, mistresses and vengeance for acts of wrong.
Vengeance—
Lauranne closed her eyes, her face losing still more of its colour as she remembered the merciless way he’d dealt with her. He’d been cold and unapproachable, refusing even to listen to her. It was as if they’d never been intimate. As far as he was concerned she’d betrayed him and that was the end of it. There was no explanation that he was willing to listen to.
And seeing him so remote had hurt so badly she’d thought she’d die of the pain.
Lauranne opened her eyes. She hadn’t died. She was still here and she wasn’t going to let Zander Volakis destroy her a second time.
Tom glared at her. ‘Tell me you won’t be here at seven-thirty.’
‘I won’t.’ Her heart rate accelerated as she remembered his promise to find her. If he wanted a chase then he was going to get one.
Tom relaxed slightly. ‘And don’t go home, either. You’d be too easy to find. Take my advice. Lose yourself in London. Go for a walk. Find a bar in a part of London that a style-conscious Greek billionaire wouldn’t be seen dead in. Buy a wig. Dye your hair. Put on forty kilos. Spend a few nights in a seedy hotel.’
Lauranne gave a wan smile. ‘And we both know that running will just make him more determined to find me. That’s the way his mind works. Zander Volakis doesn’t ever lose.’
But she was going to make it hard for him.
She closed her eyes briefly and sucked in a breath. What exactly did he want from her? Why would he want her to work for him? She’d already done that, five years before…
Landing a job in the public relations department of Volakis Industries immediately after she’d left university had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. Lauranne had started in the London office, learning the ropes, developing a feel for the breadth of the Volakis business empire along with three other graduates, one of whom had been Tom Farrer.
As for Zander Volakis himself, she hadn’t seen him. Like all the other women who worked for him, she’d drooled over his picture in the front of the annual report but hadn’t had any expectations of actually meeting him in person. With offices in all the major capitals of the world, he’d flown in for meetings and left again, maintaining a punishing schedule that had left little time for mingling with anyone but his most senior staff.
She might never have met him at all if she hadn’t become involved in the opening of one of his new hotels in the Caribbean.
‘You’re being posted there for two months,’ her boss told her one morning. ‘You’re going to work in different departments, get a feel for the place and then you’ll be in a position to entertain journalists when we arrange press visits. We call it a soft launch. The idea is to wine and dine them and generally give them such a great time that they go home and write wonderful things about the hotel and the boss. This is his flagship resort. More stars than the night sky.’