His Reputation Precedes Him

by Carole Mortimer

  This was a side of him that Eva had never seen before. The arrogantly powerful Markos Lyonedes side of him—Greek, half-owner of the world-renowned company Lyonedes Enterprises, cousin of the equally arrogant and powerful Drakon Lyonedes, and a man accustomed to issuing orders and expecting them to be obeyed. Without question or argument.

  Until he had actually made that statement Markos had had no idea he had even decided on that particular course of action. But it did make perfect sense; Eva had already done all the groundwork towards redesigning this room at least, and he had no doubt she would be as successful in her designs for the rest of the apartment.

  Besides which, he hadn’t decided yet exactly what he was going to do about Evangeline Grey.

  Part of him definitely wanted to strangle her for having believed Donna Cresswell’s lies about him, just as there was still a part of him that hungered to make love to her. And Markos had absolutely no idea which of those emotions was going to win once he had recovered from the disappointment he was currently feeling.

  In the meantime, while he waited for those feelings to settle, it seemed like a good idea to keep Eva exactly where he could see her.

  Even if his body had already made its decision, now engorged and throbbing in favour of taking Eva back to bed and making love to her until she had no strength with which to leave his bed…

  ‘I will expect you to begin work on this room immediately,’ he bit out abruptly. ‘With the intention of presenting designs for the other rooms as soon as possible.’

  ‘All of them?’ Eva gasped.

  ‘All of them,’ Markos confirmed with satisfaction at her obvious dismay.

  Leaving Eva in no doubt that Markos intended exacting his pound of flesh for her ever having harboured doubts as to his true nature.

  She should never have allowed herself to jump to conclusions where Markos was concerned based only on what Donna had told her, or allowed those conclusions to influence her into behaving so badly, so unprofessionally, towards him at the beginning.

  In truth, Eva now felt deeply ashamed of her behaviour. Something which wasn’t going to be in the least alleviated during the telephone call she intended making to her duplicitous cousin as soon as she had reached the privacy of her apartment!

  For now she just had to concentrate on leaving this apartment—leaving Markos—with at least some of her pride intact. ‘If you’re sure that’s what you want…?’

  ‘It is,’ he rasped harshly.

  ‘Fine.’ Eva nodded briskly as she turned to leave.

  ‘Oh, and, Eva…?’

  ‘Yes?’ She turned back warily.

  ‘After, as you have so rightly called it, your lack of professionalism in regard to working for me, I will now expect you to give me your services exclusively for the next few weeks, at least.’

  ‘That’s imp—’

  ‘And for you to inform me immediately if you have any further trouble with Cabot Grey,’ he continued grimly.

  ‘I don’t consider that any of your business!’ Eva gasped incredulously.

  Markos’s tread was light and predatory as he strode across the sitting room until he was standing only inches in front of her. ‘After today I am making it my business.’ His voice was dangerously soft. ‘Do you understand, Eva?’

  Oh, yes, she understood—only too well. And she resented the hell out of Markos’s arrogant assumption that the two of them having made love together gave him any right to know anything about her private life.

  Except it wasn’t just a case of the two of them having made love together, was it? She had no idea what might have happened if Markos hadn’t been with her last night when she’d realised Jack’s second wife was pregnant—if he hadn’t been so supportive of her in front of Jack and then later, here at his apartment.

  ‘If I have any further trouble with Jack I will tell you about it,’ she bit out tightly. ‘Now can I leave?’ she prompted angrily.

  ‘Of course.’ Markos smiled his satisfaction—both at Eva’s reply and the fact that her fighting spirit had so obviously returned. He enjoyed verbally sparring with her almost as much as he had enjoyed making love with her. Almost…

  ‘How kind of you!’ Her eyes flashed deeply gold.

  ‘In future, kindness is my middle name,’ he drawled mockingly.

  ‘And I thought it was arrogance,’ she came back tartly.

  Markos gave a husky chuckle. ‘I will very much look forward to seeing you back here promptly at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.’

  The fire dissipated from her eyes and she looked at him uncertainly. ‘Markos—’

  ‘Nine o’clock tomorrow morning, Eva,’ he repeated firmly.

  No matter how much Eva might wish it otherwise, Markos knew that things were far from settled between them…

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘SO, WHAT do you think…?’ Eva looked at Markos uncertainly as he stood on the threshold of his newly decorated sitting room.

  Markos thought that during the past three weeks he had learnt first-hand exactly what hell was!

  It wore figure-hugging denims, form-fitting white T-shirts over full and luscious breasts, had long ebony hair, golden eyes, kissable lips, smelled of something lightly floral and sensual—and went under the guise of interior designer Evangeline Grey!

  Because that was exactly who Eva had become during these three hellish weeks. Crisp, no-nonsense, utterly professional and bearing absolutely no resemblance to the woman Markos had made love with during that memorable Sunday.

  The first week hadn’t been too excruciating. Eva had only appeared at his apartment on the Monday and Tuesday, when she came in to take precise measurements for the carpets, curtains and other draperies.

  The second week she had been more in evidence—calling in briefly every day in order to supervise her team of decorators, and to present Markos with the designs she had made for the rest of the rooms in his apartment.

  And each time she’d arrived Markos had been the one who met her at the main lift before taking her up to his apartment.

  By the time the furniture and fittings had arrived in the third week Markos had contacted Security and instructed them to let Eva in to the building any time she arrived, as well as giving her his security code to the private lift going straight up to his apartment.

  All in an effort to spare himself the ordeal of so much as seeing the coolly remote stranger that Eva had become, let alone actually speaking to her.

  And yet…any time Eva was in the building Markos instinctively knew she was up there—in his apartment, in the room just above his office.

  He had been both angry and hurt the day he had insisted she would continue to redesign the interior of his apartment—and now he had found he was the one being punished, as day after day he was forced to suffer the cold professionalism of her manner towards him.

  None of which was helped by the fact that every time he walked into his apartment his senses were bombarded with…well, with the presence of Eva.

  He could see her influence now everywhere he looked in this newly furnished and decorated room: the pale terracotta-coloured walls adorned with bold coloured paintings of Greek islands, the carpet the colour of the Aegean Sea in summer, the deep rust colour of the comfortable sofas and chairs adorned with many scatter cushions in colours of blues and greens and yellows, the curtains draped at the huge picture windows in those same rich colours.

  Such boldness of colour should have been too much, and yet somehow it not only worked but it also seemed to fill a hole in Markos’s soul—a tiny oasis of need which was his love of Greece, a hunger that he hadn’t even realised was there until he saw the colours and the warmth of his native country reflected so vividly in this room.

  A hunger that Eva had not only seen and recognised in him, but addressed and filled with this warmth of colour…

  He turned to her now. ‘It’s…amazing,’ he said huskily.

  ‘In a good way or a bad way?’

  Markos
gave a rueful smile as he recognised the wariness in Eva’s tone. ‘A good way, of course.’ He stepped further into the room and allowed those warm Aegean colours to seep into his inner being, filling him with the same sense of peace and tranquillity he felt whenever he returned to Greece. Which was nowhere near as often as he would have liked it to be.

  Eva heaved a deep sigh of relief as she felt the heavy weight of responsibility lift from her shoulders. She watched Markos’s pleasure in his surroundings; as she had imagined, the richness and boldness of the earth tones suited Markos perfectly, bringing that same warm richness to his eyes and his swarthy, chiselled features as he strolled about the room.

  She still couldn’t believe she had been so stupid as to believe Donna’s fantastic series of lies. Although, in her defence, she had started to doubt her cousin’s version of things shortly after meeting Markos herself.

  But she had only doubted Donna’s version—she had never even thought that the whole thing had been a complete fabrication from start to finish. Nothing more than a figment of Donna’s over-achieving imagination. Something, having spoken bluntly with Donna herself, Eva now knew without a shadow of a doubt to be the real truth.

  Not that her cousin had apologised for the lies—in fact Donna appeared to be more angry towards Eva than anything else, for what she now saw as Eva’s family disloyalty in befriending Markos herself.

  Befriending?

  Eva would hardly class the fantastic, earth-shattering lovemaking she and Markos had shared as ‘befriending’ each other!

  God, just remembering the depth and feeling of that lovemaking now was enough to make her nipples tingle and tighten, to make her clench and unclench between her thighs.

  She straightened abruptly. ‘I’m pleased you’re happy with it.’

  ‘That would be an understatement.’ Markos turned to look across at her from between narrowed lids. ‘Praise where praise is due, Eva: you’ve done a fantastic job on this room.’

  She avoided meeting that piercing gaze. ‘Let’s hope you’re as pleased with the rest of the apartment once it’s finished,’ she dismissed briskly as she looked around for her shoulder bag.

  ‘Perhaps we should have a glass of champagne to celebrate? Oh, come on, Eva,’ he drawled dryly as she turned to him with wide eyes. ‘I can’t be the first satisfied customer who has wanted to toast the success of your hard work?’

  He was the first satisfied customer that Eva had gone to bed with.

  The only man, besides Jack, she had ever been to bed with…

  And Eva now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was absolutely no comparison between the two men. Jack had been a selfish lover, whereas Markos was a generous one. She had been a virgin when she’d married Jack, had had no idea that making love should be the way it had been between her and Markos—a delight for all the senses.

  And those memories weren’t helping her in the least to keep this meeting on a business footing! ‘I really do have to go—’

  ‘Do you have a date this evening?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she answered with irritation.

  ‘Have you heard from Cabot Grey?’

  Eva drew her breath in sharply. ‘I’ve spoken to Jack again, yes,’ she confirmed guardedly.

  Markos looked at her from between narrowed lids, having absolutely no idea what thoughts were going on behind those shuttered gold-coloured eyes. ‘I believe I asked you to tell me—’

  ‘If I had any further trouble from Jack. Which I haven’t,’ she added firmly. ‘We spoke. Nothing more.’

  ‘About what?’

  She gave a pained frown. ‘As I’ve said before, I don’t believe that to be any of your business—’

  ‘That’s bull—’ He abruptly broke off his angry response, aware that he had been about to voice an unacceptable expletive. His jaw was tight as he continued between gritted teeth, ‘As the man who helped you to pick up the pieces after your last conversation with your ex-husband, I happen to think it’s very much my business!’ His eyes glittered darkly.

  A blush heightened Eva’s cheeks. ‘I believe I’ve already thanked you sufficiently for the…assistance you gave me that weekend.’

  ‘I sincerely hope that was not a reference to our lovemaking, Eva,’ he bit out coldly.

  ‘Of course not!’ she gasped.

  ‘No?’

  She gave another pained wince. ‘Markos, I’ve already thanked you several times for your kindness the evening I met Jack again at his father’s house. And it’s because of that kindness that I refuse to argue with you now—’

  ‘Then what are you going to do with me?’

  She blinked. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Not half as sorry as I am!’ Markos muttered grimly under his breath. He spoke more loudly. ‘I asked what are you going to do about me, Eva?’

  She gave a puzzled shake of her head. ‘I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand what you mean…’

  No, Markos could see by the blankness of Eva’s expression that she really didn’t understand—that as far as she was concerned theirs was now a purely business relationship.

  Which was exactly what Markos had implied it was going to be three weeks ago. Before he had been forced to live every day in this living hell of wanting Eva, of being driven quietly but surely out of his mind with the knowledge of that desire for her, while she obviously had had absolutely no difficulty in resuming their previous business relationship, shutting out all memory of their hours of intimacy.

  Or perhaps she hadn’t shut them out at all? Maybe she really had just forgotten them altogether?

  It was an idea Markos found totally unacceptable.

  He gave a shake of his head. ‘Is this what you do, Eva? Is this what your marriage to Cabot Grey did to you? Did you have a couple of dates with Glen too, a night in bed together, and then not only discard him as unimportant but forget about him altogether?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she gasped tremulously, her eyes now amber pools of hurt. ‘That really isn’t fair, Markos. You not only flirted with me outrageously the evening we met, but once you realised who I was you also ensured I had no choice but to come here for our appointment on the Monday evening. If anyone forgot about Glen, discarded him, then it was you!’

  His mouth twisted derisively. ‘Have you seen him again since that evening?’

  ‘No,’ she breathed shakily.

  ‘Why not?’

  Eva flinched at the coldness in Markos’s tone. At the subject of this whole conversation. ‘How can you even ask me that?’

  Markos raised mocking brows. His inner frustrations this past three weeks was making him determined to get some sort of response from Eva. Even if it was a negative one. ‘Because if you haven’t been seeing me, and you haven’t been seeing Glen, then I’m interested to know who it is you’re hurrying off to meet this evening. Your ex-husband, perhaps?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Her face had paled to the colour of delicate white porcelain.

  ‘Is that what I’m being?’ Markos grated tautly.

  ‘Where Jack is concerned, yes! Markos, you were there—you saw my reaction to seeing Jack again.’

  ‘I saw your reaction to seeing his pregnant wife,’ he corrected harshly. ‘Which isn’t the same thing at all.’

  No, it wasn’t, Eva acknowledged heavily. Not the same thing at all.

  Jack had called her, as his parting comment that evening about ‘being in touch’ had promised that he would, and the two of them had agreed to meet in a suitably neutral coffee shop. The conversation had been stilted and awkward, but once Eva had convinced Jack that she had absolutely no interest in telling anyone that Yvette’s baby couldn’t be his the two of them had reached an uneasy truce, with an agreement that they would both stay out of the other’s life, and if they met again socially would at least be polite to each other. Nothing more, but nothing less, either.

  It wasn’t perfect, but it was far better than the anger which had burned so strongly between
them before Eva had realised she was allowing her life to be ruined because of her failed marriage.

  It was a realisation which had made her determined to put that part of her life behind her and move on to whatever kind of future might be in store for her, rather than the future she had so neatly planned out for herself.

  In a perfect world Eva knew that future would have included Markos—the man she had come to realise these past three weeks she was so very much in love with…

  Not that bedazzled young love she had felt for Jack, but the love of a mature woman who knew what and who she was, and also knew how and who she loved.

  Eva had no idea how or when it had happened. Perhaps when Markos had defended her so gallantly in front of Jack. Or perhaps it had been the gentleness of his care when he’d rescued her from the bathroom and taken her back to his apartment, before undressing her and leaving her to sleep alone in his bed. Or during that wild and glorious lovemaking the following day, the memory of which still caused Eva to tremble just thinking about it.

  Or maybe, just maybe, it had happened the first moment she’d set eyes on him at Senator Ashcroft’s cocktail party…

  It didn’t really matter when or how it had happened, only that it had. She was in love with Markos Lyonedes. Completely. Utterly. And he was obviously still as disgusted with her as he had been three weeks ago.

  She gave a weary sigh, accepting that perhaps she did owe Markos at least some answers to his questions. ‘I did meet Jack again after his father’s party—’

  ‘You met him?’ Markos echoed incredulously. ‘He’s a married man, about to become a father, and the two of you still sneaked away together behind his wife’s back—’

  ‘It wasn’t like that!’ Eva protested painfully.

  ‘No?’ The look Markos gave her down the long length of his aristocratic nose spoke of his disgust. ‘Then tell me what it was like, Eva.’

  Eva had absolutely no doubt that this past three weeks—with the two of them skirting around each other, being outwardly polite and inwardly a seething mass of emotions and unanswered questions—had been leading up to this confrontation. A confrontation she had no idea whether or not she was ready for, but she accepted it was coming anyway.