Defying Drakon

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Defying Drakon Page 13

by Carole Mortimer


  Gemini smiled sadly. ‘I think we both know you’ve already guessed exactly where my mother’s rings are, Drakon.’

  He could certainly take a good and accurate guess as to what had become of the rings. It was unbelievable. Unacceptable!

  ‘Tell me anyway,’ he ground out harshly.

  Gemini sighed. ‘The will my father left was made shortly after he and Angela were married. At a time when he still believed her to be an honourable woman, as well as a warm and loving one,’ she added dully.

  Drakon looked aghast. ‘Your father expected that Angela would be honourable enough to give your mother’s rings to you after he had died?’

  ‘I believe he did, yes.’

  ‘Which she has not done?’

  Oh, it was much worse than that—not only had Angela not given those rings to Gemini, but she had taken great delight in wearing the emerald and diamond engagement ring herself…several times.

  ‘Which she hasn’t done,’ Gemini confirmed flatly. ‘Now, could we finish eating our dinner?’ Although, in truth, she wasn’t sure she had an appetite for it any more.

  Any more than she had for the long evening in Drakon’s company that now stretched ahead of her…

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A SECOND chauffeur-driven limousine was waiting for them at a private airport near Verona, but Gemini sat alone in the back of the luxurious car for several minutes after Drakon excused himself to make a brief telephone call.

  ‘Everything okay?’ she asked when he finally joined her.

  ‘Perfect.’ He turned to give her a brief, hard smile as the car moved smoothly forward.

  The unpleasant memories resurrected by their earlier conversation about her parents and Angela had thankfully dissipated as they’d continued to chat casually during the delicious dinner Malcolm had served to them so efficiently during the flight, and now Gemini was once again anticipating the evening ahead, and the opera she had no doubts would be a feast for the senses.

  It wouldn’t dare be anything else when she had Drakon Lyonedes as her escort for the evening!

  Which, when she thought about it, was pretty incredible, considering she had been feeling so angry and upset with him just over a week ago.

  The reason for her initial animosity still existed, of course—especially as Drakon’s company was about to take possession of Bartholomew House. But his personality was such, and this unexpected time in Verona so magical, that it was difficult if not impossible for Gemini even to think of reverting back to resenting him.

  But that didn’t mean she wasn’t fully capable of resenting the dozens of glamorous women who looked at Drakon so covetously once they had reached the amphitheatre and joined the other patrons of the opera in the exclusive bar for a glass of champagne before the performance began.

  Not that she could exactly blame any of those women. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in that designer-label black evening suit and white silk shirt and bowtie, his dark hair slightly tousled from the warm and sultry breeze, Drakon was by far and away the most handsome and distinguished man present.

  ‘Please don’t let my being here stop you from being with any of your friends,’ she said, after watching Drakon nod aloof acknowledgement as he was greeted by various people.

  ‘They are mainly business acquaintances, not friends.’ Drakon looked down the length of his arrogant nose at her and them. ‘And I have no wish to be with any of them.’

  It was a sentiment so obviously not shared by several of the more beautiful women present. ‘I don’t think the sexy redhead near the bar regards you as a business acquaintance!’ Gemini teased, noting the other woman’s sultry glance in his direction.

  ‘I am not responsible for what other people think of me.’ Drakon didn’t so much as spare a glance in the redhead’s direction. ‘The champagne is to your liking?’

  It was slightly exhilarating, Gemini realised, to know that a man whose attentions were as welcome as Drakon’s so obviously were was concerned only with her welfare. ‘The champagne is perfect, thank you.’ She smiled up at him warmly.

  Drakon felt himself bathed in the warmth of that smile—a feeling he found surprisingly pleasurable after observing that several of the men present had been eyeing Gemini with acute interest since their arrival a few minutes ago. An interest she seemed totally unaware of. Or was perhaps just uninterested in? Whatever the reason—

  ‘Gem? My God, Gem, is that really you?’

  Drakon stiffened as this excited greeting interrupted his train of thought. A greeting directed at Gemini.

  She confirmed that it was as she turned, her expression slightly puzzled, only to have her face light up with pleasure as she obviously recognised the blond-haired man now making his way determinedly towards her through the crowd of people.

  ‘Good grief! What on earth are you doing here, Sam?’ Gemini asked excitedly.

  ‘The same as you. I’m here to watch the opera, of course!’ The younger man seemed elusively familiar to Drakon as he reached out to grasp both of Gemini’s hands in his and beamed down at her. ‘My God, Gem, you can’t believe how good it is to see you again—and in Verona of all places!’ He laughed exuberantly.

  ‘Unbelievable, isn’t it?’ Gemini acknowledged the beauty of their surroundings.

  At the same time she became aware of the dark and brooding man standing stiffly disapproving beside her.

  She glanced up at Drakon from beneath lowered lashes, able to feel the leashed displeasure just below the surface of his urbanity and knowing by the coldness of his expression and the chill in those glittering black eyes as he regarded the other man haughtily that he resented Sam’s intrusion.

  She left her hands clasped within Sam’s as she made the introductions. ‘Drakon—Sam Middleton. Sam, this is Drakon Lyonedes.’

  ‘As in Lyonedes Enterprises?’ Sam gave him a startled glance even as he released her to hold out a perfunctory hand in greeting.

  ‘Middleton,’ Drakon returned tersely, neither confirming nor denying his identity as he briefly returned the handshake.

  ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Sam continued to look into that harshly chiselled face for several seconds before giving a perceptible shake of his head as he turned to look back at Gemini, a dozen unasked questions in his widened bright blue eyes. ‘Maybe we can get together for a longer chat during the interval?’ he urged, obviously eager to pump her for answers.

  ‘I—’

  ‘That will not be possible, I’m afraid.’ Drakon was the one to answer dismissively. ‘Gemini and I will be meeting other friends then.’

  She gave him a surprised look; that was the first she’d heard of it. Although, as Drakon had been the one to fly her here to Verona in his private jet, she could hardly complain if he had now decided he wanted to talk to some of his business acquaintances later on, after all.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ She gave Sam a regretful smile.

  ‘I’ll be back in London next week, so maybe we can meet up again then?’ Sam suggested.

  ‘Perhaps. If Gemini is back in London by next week,’ Drakon said frostily at the same time as his arm moved about the slenderness of her waist.

  Gemini gave him another startled glance, surprised at the possessiveness of that gesture as much as by what he had said. ‘But—’

  ‘If you will excuse us?’ Drakon murmured as the bell sounded to announce the start of the performance, not even waiting for Sam’s reply before moving away to join the people now making their way to their seats.

  Gemini had time to turn to shoot Sam an apologetic glance over her shoulder before glaring up at Drakon. ‘What on earth was all that about?’ she demanded, bewildered by his behaviour.

  He spared her only the briefest of glances as he concentrated on guiding her safely through the milling crowd. ‘What was what about?’ he said evasively.

  ‘Well, for one thing, of course I’ll be back in London next week. In fact I’ll be back in London later this evening—’

 
; ‘No, you won’t.’

  Gemini came to an abrupt halt, and then was forced to mutter a distracted apology to the couple whose way she was blocking.

  ‘What do you mean I won’t?’ She frowned at him as he took a firm grasp of her arm and moved them to a less crowded and thankfully more private area.

  He shrugged as he released her arm. ‘The opera won’t finish until very late, so naturally I have arranged for us to stay at a hotel here in Verona tonight.’

  ‘What? Without so much as asking me if that was okay?’ Gemini gasped incredulously.

  He raised arrogant brows. ‘I brought you to Verona without asking your permission, too.’

  ‘Well…yes. But—’ She flung up her hands in dismay. ‘Not only have I not brought any other clothes or toiletries with me, but you can’t just make decisions like that without even consulting me!’

  ‘I believe I already have.’

  Gemini’s cheeks burned at what she considered his bloody-minded arrogance. ‘You—’

  ‘And the second thing?’ he interrupted calmly.

  ‘What?’ she said, confused.

  ‘You said “for one thing”, so I assumed there must necessarily be a second thing?’ he replied.

  Gemini ground her teeth in frustration at his obvious lack of interest in discussing their overnight stay any further. ‘The second thing is what was all that about with Sam just now? You deliberately gave him the impression that we’re—well, that we’re—’

  ‘Involved?’ he supplied dryly.

  ‘Yes!’ she hissed, uncomfortable with Drakon’s continued calm when she was feeling anything but.

  He looked down at her wordlessly for several long seconds. ‘We had dinner together last week. And again yesterday evening. We have had dinner together again this evening. We are now in Verona, attending the opera together. And somewhere in amongst those evenings together we have twice been intimate with each other, for want of a better expression. Do all of those things not indicate that we might possibly be involved?’ He arched those arrogant dark brows.

  Gemini looked annoyed. They had done all those things together, yes, but as far as she was aware not one of those earlier evenings had been arranged and agreed between them. Dinner last week had been to discuss Lyonedes Enterprises buying Bartholomew House. She had organised their dinner together yesterday evening at the Italian restaurant because she had been angry with Drakon for setting his watchdogs onto her. Which only left this evening…

  Admittedly Drakon had actually invited her out this evening. And she had accepted. She just hadn’t expected it would involve being whisked off to a private airport and wined and dined on the Lyonedes jet before arriving in Verona to attend the opera.

  But that didn’t mean she and Drakon were involved. Did it?

  She shook her head firmly. ‘That’s still no reason for you to have behaved like—like a Neanderthal in front of Sam!’

  Drakon drew in a sharp breath. ‘A Neanderthal?’

  Gemini’s anger left her as quickly as it had flared into being when she saw his stunned disbelief at her accusation. ‘A Neanderthal.’ She nodded confirmation as she deliberately repeated the word. ‘That “me man, you woman” thing again. Or, in this case, “you my woman”! Which, besides being patently untrue, was especially inappropriate seeing as Sam happens to be my cousin,’ she added.

  Drakon’s expression of haughty disdain turned to one of puzzlement. ‘I didn’t realise—your surnames are not the same.’

  ‘Could that be because Sam’s mother is my mother’s sister?’ she asked sarcastically.

  ‘I thought he looked vaguely familiar…’ Drakon looked down at her blankly for several seconds. ‘Yes, I see now that was due to the family resemblance.’

  ‘The family that by this time tomorrow will all have been informed that I’m staying in Verona with Drakon Lyonedes! And don’t you dare laugh,’ Gemini warned as she saw those chiselled lips begin to twitch. ‘The only family I have left are my Aunt Beatrice, Uncle Joseph and Sam—and now they’re all going to think that for some reason I’ve allowed myself to become Drakon Lyonedes’s latest bimbo!’

  Drakon’s humour faded as quickly as it had appeared, his eyes turning to ebony chips of ice as he looked down at her. ‘As far as I am aware I have never associated with bimbos,’ he informed her frostily.

  ‘Kept woman. Mistress. Whatever,’ Gemini said crossly. ‘I don’t enjoy having the only family I have left in the world believing I’m no better than Angela!’

  Drakon looked down at her searchingly, noting the over-bright sheen to those glorious sea-green eyes, the slight pallor to her cheeks, and realized—no matter how much he might resent her accusations—that her distress concerning what her small immediate family might think of her was very real.

  He drew in a deep breath. ‘We will seek out your cousin at the interval and I will endeavour to put the record straight with regard to our relationship.’

  She raised surprised brows. ‘And exactly how do you intend doing that?’

  ‘By informing him that our association is primarily a business one. Also that we have separate rooms booked at the hotel tonight. No…?’ he said with a frown as Gemini gave a firm shake of her head.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid that all sounds a little like protesting too much.’

  ‘I could always apologise for my earlier manner—explain that I had no idea he was your cousin—’

  ‘Which would only give the impression that we are involved, after all!’ She sighed. ‘Never mind, Drakon. I’ll sort it out with Sam when he gets back to London next week.’ She ran an agitated hand through her hair. ‘Let’s just go and listen to the opera, hmm?’

  The last thing Drakon had intended this evening was to create a reason for any more unpleasantness in Gemini’s life—in truth, bringing her to Verona, well away from England, had been deliberately designed to do the very opposite. But that unexpected meeting with her cousin certainly seemed to have cast a shadow over her enjoyment.

  Because, as she had so succinctly pointed out, Drakon had behaved like a Neanderthal when confronted with a younger man who seemed to be on far too intimate an acquaintance with her!

  He had assumed, from the warmth of their greeting to each other, that Gemini and Sam must have been romantically involved in the past. And he had not liked it. Not one little bit. Which was really no excuse for his proprietorial behaviour towards her.

  ‘You’re right. We should take our seats now,’ he said.

  Drakon’s inner feelings of disquiet resulted in him spending the first hour of the opera looking at Gemini more than he did the spectacle taking place on the stage: the smooth sheen of her white-gold hair, the creaminess of her brow and cheek, the clear brightness of those sea-green eyes as she gazed at the performers with rapt attention, the sensual fullness of her lips, the slender arch of her throat, and the tempting swell of her breasts.

  The knowledge of her innocence told Drakon she was a young woman of principle. Her love and respect for her father, despite his disastrous second marriage, indicated that she was a woman of loyalty. She was a young woman who, because she had grown up protected and cosseted by her father’s wealth, could so easily have chosen to become one of the idle and bored debutantes Drakon had met so many times in the past at social events all over the world. But she had instead chosen to forge her own life and career by opening her own shop and working—working hard—with the flowers she so obviously loved.

  All of which made her the most beautiful and unaffected young woman Drakon had ever met.

  And he wanted her badly.

  He ached to hold her softness in his arms as he moulded her body against his. To kiss every inch of her face and throat before claiming her lips with his. To cup her bared breasts in his hands as he slowly pleasured their stiff peaks. To caress the slenderness of her waist and hips before gently stroking the heat between her thighs—

  ‘Isn’t this wonderful!’ Gemini breathed, having placed h
er hand excitedly on Drakon’s arm as she turned to look at him with eyes that seemed to glow the same intense green as her emeralds. The earlier tension between them, and the reason for it, had obviously been forgotten. And forgiven, he sincerely hoped.

  ‘Wonderful,’ he echoed gruffly as his hand moved to capture and keep the warmth of her fingers pressed against his arm, but he was looking at Gemini and not at the stage above.

  She gave him another one of her warm smiles before turning back eagerly to the opera, seemingly unaware that her hand still lay clasped within Drakon’s.

  Exactly when, he wondered, had this woman slipped beneath his guard of cynicism? When, exactly, had he ceased to regard Gemini as nothing but an intrusive nuisance, one he wished out of his life as quickly as she had thrust herself into it? When had that protectiveness he had felt after learning of Angela Bartholomew’s viciousness towards her become so all-consuming?

  He had no need to wonder why it had happened. He had realised only too well during this past hour of watching her, of looking at her, exactly the reasons she was now such an important part of his life.

  If not the most important…

  ‘Wasn’t that absolutely amazing?’ Gemini exclaimed several hours later as she and Drakon emerged onto the lamplit cobbled street outside the amphitheatre, her hand resting on the crook of his arm so that they wouldn’t be separated amongst the crowds of happy people milling around them.

  Drakon had seemed distant towards her during the interval, although true to his word they had sought out Sam. Drakon had insisted on the younger man joining them for a glass of champagne. As she had requested, Drakon had offered no apology for his earlier behaviour, but instead had warmly encouraged her cousin to talk of the places he had already visited during what was apparently a touring holiday of Italy—something the enthusiastic Sam had been only too happy to do.

  Gemini shot Drakon a concerned glance now. ‘You know, I was only being half serious earlier when I called you a Neanderthal.’

 

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