by Sarah Morgan
‘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.’
‘Will he be there?’ Lauranne was intrigued at the prospect of finally meeting the legendary God-like figure who had taken the wreckage of his father’s company and built it into one of the most successful businesses in the world at a staggeringly young age.
‘No idea.’ Her boss shrugged. ‘Probably not. The guy is usually in the air. Flying from one meeting to another. Or else he’s in bed with some stunning model or actress, so don’t get any ideas in that direction.’
She certainly didn’t have any ideas in that direction, Lauranne mused as she packed a case for the Caribbean. Just twenty-one, she had absolutely no intention of falling in love with anyone, and certainly not with Zander Volakis, no matter how good-looking and wealthy he was. The man had a wicked reputation with women and she had more sense than to fall for that sort of man.
She was sitting in the bar one evening, chatting to some of the other guests, when she was suddenly aware that she was being watched.
The man stood slightly apart from the noisy crowd, distinguished by an air of authority and by the sheer impact of his powerful physique and stunningly handsome face. She should have recognised him immediately but she didn’t, perhaps because photographs in the annual report hadn’t come close to capturing the vital masculinity of the man standing in front of her.
His eyes locked on hers with shocking intensity, raking over her long blonde hair with blatant male appreciation until she was breathless and trembling.
He was just so gorgeous.
And he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Used to keeping men at a distance, Lauranne didn’t recognise the delicious excitement that suddenly burned inside her and deliberately looked away, determined to ignore him.
He was totally wrong for her.
If he was staying in the resort then he had to be seriously rich and she didn’t play with billionaires, however stunning they were to look at.
All the same, she struggled to play it cool when he strolled up to her, disturbingly direct in his approach.
‘I want you to have dinner with me.’ He spoke perfect English with a slight accent that just served to make his deep voice even sexier.
Struggling with temptation for the first time in her life, Lauranne was frostily polite. ‘And do you always get what you want?’
The intensity of his gaze took her breath away. ‘Always.’
‘I’m not allowed to dine with guests—’
He dealt her a sizzling smile that made hotel rules fade to the nethermost part of her dazzled brain. ‘I’m not a guest.’
She should have realised then, of course, but she didn’t.
It wasn’t until much, much later, when they’d talked about anything and everything and she was already half in love with him, that she noticed the deferential manner of the staff.
‘Oh, my God—’ She dropped her fork and her eyes widened as she finally realised exactly whom she was dining with. ‘You’re—you’re—’
One dark eyebrow swooped upwards and his eyes glittered with amusement. ‘I’m—?’
‘It’s you.’ She swallowed, unable to look away from that disturbing gaze. ‘I should have recognised you, but you don’t look like the annual report.’
‘A laminated brochure with forty pages?’ He laughed then and she laughed too, but nervously because she was dining with a billionaire who only dated very, very beautiful women.
‘I can’t date the boss,’ she croaked, transfixed by the lush thickness of his dark lashes and the slight fullness of his lower lip. ‘It’s against the rules.’
‘But I make the rules,’ he drawled lazily, dipping a strawberry in melted chocolate and leaning forward to place it between her parted lips, ‘so I can either change the rules or fire you.’
And later, much later, he did exactly that…
* * *
Five miles away, in his flashy London office, Zander Volakis paced the floor, still brooding over his meeting with Lauranne O’Neill.
Alec watched him nervously. ‘I’ll find another PR company.’
Zander scowled, struggling with feelings that were totally unfamiliar. ‘Why?’
Alec looked flustered. ‘Because you—well, it was clear that you—the pair of you—hated each other,’ he finished lamely and Zander frowned.
Totally unaccustomed to examining his emotions in any great depth, he was uncomfortably baffled as to exactly what he was feeling at the moment.
Hate?
He’d felt many emotions for Lauranne O’Neill, all of them shockingly basic and intense. Hatred definitely wasn’t one of them.
Alec watched him, stiff and awkward. ‘How long were you—er—married?’
‘Four weeks, three days and six hours.’ Zander gave a cynical laugh and yanked the nearest chair away from the table. ‘Until then my father held the family record for the shortest marriage. Now the trophy is mine.’
‘But technically you’re still married,’ Alec commented. ‘Why did you never get a divorce?’
‘Because a divorce is only necessary if you intend to marry another woman,’ Zander replied grimly, sitting down and stretching long legs out in front of him, ‘and I am not in the habit of repeating my mistakes.’
And because he’d pushed the whole disastrous episode firmly to the back of his mind.
Alec stared at his boss’s hard expression and cleared his throat. ‘Right. So presumably that’s what Kouropoulos was referring to when he said that you showed no commitment to family life.’
‘Four weeks, three days and six hours certainly doesn’t constitute an impressive track record,’ Zander agreed smoothly and Alec frowned.
‘Well, it’s a pity that we can’t work with Phoenix PR. Ex-wife or not, Lauranne O’Neill is supposed to be the best. If anyone can persuade Kouropoulos that you’re a caring guy, she can. At the moment we can’t even get him to agree to a meeting.’
Zander stared at Alec broodingly, lean, strong fingers tapping a steady rhythm on the polished wood of the table as he digested that piece of information.
‘He still won’t agree to a meeting?’
Alec shook his head, frustration evident as he flicked through a pile of papers. ‘It doesn’t help that last week you were photographed with a model and a ballet dancer. The problem is that you don’t date the same woman two nights in a row.’
Considering the question superfluous, Zander gave a sardonic smile. ‘Why would I want to?’
Alec ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of exasperation. ‘Because we need to convince Kouropoulos that your womanising is merely the mark of a desperate man searching frantically for the right woman with whom to spend the rest of his life…except that you’re married so none of that works…’ His voice trailed off as he caught the look in his boss’s eyes.
‘I’ve never met a romantic lawyer before,’ Zander observed softly. ‘I pay you to deal with facts, not fiction.’
Alec gave a sigh and slumped in his chair. ‘Well, in this case the facts aren’t helping. I think this is one deal we’re going to have to give up on,’ he said wearily, pushing the papers away from him and dropping his pen on top. ‘Trying to make you look like a good boy is the hardest job I’ve ever been given. Just when I think I’m making progress with our friend Kouropoulos, someone somewhere publishes something scandalous about you and if the old guy knows you’re still married then it’s no wonder he’s not impressed. This is a guy who’s been with the same woman since he was twenty.’
‘Presumably that’s why he chooses to live on an island,’ Zander s
aid silkily. ‘It restricts the opportunities for straying.
He didn’t believe that any woman was capable of being faithful. If his father’s experiences hadn’t offered him sufficient proof, then his own certainly had.
Zander rose to his feet in a fluid movement and started pacing again.
He stopped pacing, every trace of amusement gone from his lean, handsome face. ‘Be clear on one thing, Alec. I’m not giving up on this deal.’
He wouldn’t rest until Blue Cove Island was his.
Alec sighed. ‘There’s no obvious solution.’
‘Then find a less obvious one,’ Zander suggested pleasantly, striding over to the window and staring down at the streets below. ‘If I need a new image, then I’ll get one.’ He kept his back to his lawyer. ‘And my wife is the woman to do it.’
There was a shocked silence.
‘You’re joking.’
‘I never joke about business.’
‘But she could do you colossal damage. The woman hates you—’
Remembering those incredible legs wrapped round his waist, Zander experienced an instant physical response and tightened his jaw. ‘She doesn’t hate me.’
She was afraid of him. Afraid of the powerful connection between them.
Alec rose to his feet, sweat clinging to his brow. ‘As your lawyer I have to advise you against…’ His voice tailed off under the force of that burning gaze and he shook his head. ‘It’s a huge risk, Zander.’
‘I thrive on risk.’
‘Well, I have to confess that in this case I don’t understand you,’ Alec confessed ruefully, shaking his head and flicking the file shut.
Zander didn’t respond. He was having trouble explaining his actions to himself. For a man who prided himself on never looking backwards, he’d become uncomfortably fixated on his disastrous relationship with Lauranne. It was just because she’d refused to work for him, he reasoned, laughing silently at his own inability to ignore the challenge she’d set. Their whole relationship had been conducted in the same vein. When one of them fought, the other fought harder. It had made for a totally explosive relationship but one that had excited him more than any other.
And the prospect of even more contact filled him with a thrill of anticipation that was totally beyond his comprehension.
CHAPTER FOUR
LAURANNE glanced at her watch and realised that if she was going to take Tom’s advice and lose herself in London, then it was time to move.
She slipped into the bathroom that joined onto her office and stared at her reflection in the mirror, seeing not the immaculately groomed businesswoman, but the face of the girl she’d been five years before.
Lauranne closed her eyes briefly, reflecting that, no matter how hard you worked on your external image, nothing could change the way you were inside.
Outwardly there was no sign of the innocent girl who’d fallen so crazily in love with Zander Volakis, but on the inside—on the inside that hot, wildly passionate girl that he’d discovered was still very much alive.
She lifted a hand to her mouth, touching her lower lip, remembering—
It had been wild. Crazy. Two months with Zander—dark, sexual Zander—had unlocked a part of herself that she’d carefully denied ever since and just the memories were enough to ignite a spark that warmed her body. She felt the familiar ache deep within her pelvis, a warmth, a tingling, a shockingly exciting sexual awareness that was triggered by just the mention of his name. She hadn’t known it was possible for a woman to feel what Zander had made her feel.
Her feelings had been totally beyond her control, so pagan, so basic, that she hadn’t recognised herself. Everything had seemed intensified, especially the pain of parting.
Lauranne closed her eyes and gripped the basin tightly.
If she concentrated hard enough on the parting, then the physical need would go. She wasn’t twenty-one any more and she certainly wasn’t naïve.
Being with Zander hadn’t just taught her about sex.
Everything she knew about pain and grief and loss she’d learned from him, and thanks to Zander she’d become an expert.
Which was why she was going to run hard in the opposite direction.
She absolutely definitely didn’t want Zander Volakis to be any part of her life ever again and as soon as she could she’d see a lawyer to discuss a divorce.
Galvanised into action, she grabbed a pair of jeans from one of the cupboards, found a clean white tee shirt and changed quickly, cramming her blonde hair under a cap.
Satisfied that she looked nothing like the elegant businesswoman he’d seen earlier, she slipped her feet into a pair of flat, practical shoes and grabbed her bag.
Even if he did spot her, there was no way he’d look twice at her dressed like this. Zander mixed with truly elegant women and at the moment she looked more like a street urchin.
Outside the streets were crowded with commuters making their way home and Lauranne walked briskly away from the office and flagged a taxi, directing the driver towards the river. A walk would clear her head and she could stop for a coffee and something to eat at one of the many cafés and restaurants that overlooked the river.
The taxi dropped her off near the Houses of Parliament and she stood for a moment, watching the evening sunlight dancing on the River Thames. It was the height of summer and people hurried past, eager to get home, no one showing the slightest interest in her as she slipped on a pair of sunglasses and settled her bag on her shoulder. She felt anonymous, just another commuter on the busy streets of London, and she started to relax.
This was her home now. Her life. Thanks to Tom, she had a life again. A life that was a million miles from Volakis Industries and Zander.
There was no way he was going to mess it up a second time.
* * *
‘You were right, boss. She did a runner. Took a taxi to the river and then walked. She’s been walking ever since. We’ve had a struggle not to lose her, frankly. She doesn’t look anything like her photograph.’
Zander stared at his bodyguard grimly and then gave a reluctant laugh. That was so typical of Lauranne. She knew that he had the means to track her down easily but she was still stubbornly determined to make a stand. It was no wonder they always clashed so fiercely, he mused as he climbed into the back of his car and issued instructions to his driver. She was the only person he’d ever met who was as stubborn and determined as he was.
All his life, women had drooled and fawned over him, but not Lauranne. She’d ignored and disdained, forcing him to chase a woman for the first time in his life. And where other women flirted and giggled, Lauranne had argued and challenged, always emphasising their differences, driving him mad with frustration.
She was the antithesis of the woman he’d been brought up to value, so far removed from the obedient Greek woman that it was laughable. And that had been part of the attraction for him, he mused as he stared moodily out of the window. Lauranne was sparky, opinionated and difficult to handle. In fact the perfect woman for a guy who appreciated a challenge.
A slight smile on his handsome face, Zander lounged back in his seat and contemplated the prospect of doing battle with her again.
Their relationship had always been amazingly passionate and hot and seeing her today had made him realise just how much he still ached for her. His body had throbbed in the most primitive way possible and it had taken all of his legendary will-power not to spread her flat on that huge glass table that dominated her meeting room and take her hard and fast with the minimum of preliminaries.
And that was where he’d gone wrong before. He’d allowed great sex to affect his judgement. He should have just kept her in his bed until they were both too exhausted to argue.
Instead of which he’d suddenly developed a desperate urge to marry her.
And he still couldn’t work out why he’d done that.
Aware that the car had stopped, he glanced out of the window and focused on a café with several tab
les placed outside overlooking the river. Scanning the tables briefly, he frowned, unable to identify her immediately, and then he looked again and a smile touched his firm mouth.
Did she really think that a baseball cap and jeans could disguise who she was? From the back she looked like a boy, but he recognised that slender neck, the slant of her narrow shoulders and the stubborn tilt of her pointed chin—
She was poised for confrontation.
Just waiting to be found so that she could spit fire and flame.
With a brief nod to his driver he stepped out of the car and strolled up to her, relishing the prospect of their encounter.
* * *
She felt him before she saw him. Sensed a change in the people around her. The atmosphere in the bustling café was suddenly highly charged. Conversations tailed off. Men sat up slightly straighter, women ceased to pay attention to their companions, their eyes fixed instead on someone behind her.
And she knew who that someone would be, of course.
Only Zander had that sort of effect on people.
Only Zander could bring an entire café to a standstill.
Wondering how far she’d get if she just stood up and ran, she tensed, preparing herself for confrontation, refusing to look round or acknowledge his arrival in any way.
He’d found her faster than even she had anticipated. But that was Zander all over. There was no one he couldn’t track down, no deal he couldn’t negotiate. And with all the staff and money at his disposal, finding her must have been child’s play. There was nowhere on earth she could have hidden safely if he truly wanted to find her.
But finding her didn’t mean that he was going to get what he wanted.
He settled himself in the chair opposite her, utterly oblivious to the lustful looks he was attracting from the women around him.
Lauranne suppressed a bitter laugh as she recognised emotions that she herself had once felt. It wasn’t just his staggering good looks that created such a stir amongst members of her sex. It was his blatant masculinity. Zander exuded an air of power and success that drew women to him like a magnet.
And she’d hated herself for falling for his charms.