Книга - His Reputation Precedes Him

His Reputation Precedes Him
Carole Mortimer


With Markos Lyonedes, there’s no smoke without fire!He’s one of the most talked-about men in New York – and interior designer Eva Grey has heard all the stories. Yes, Markos is powerful, wealthy and unbearably good-looking, but Eva knows that whilst he might make a girl feel special for one searingly hot night, that’s all he’s good for… After her disastrous marriage, he’s just the type of man she should avoid.But when Markos hires Eva to decorate his penthouse it’s too lucrative an opportunity to turn down…and one that shatters Eva’s resolve to stay firmly out of Markos’s bedroom!“Carole Mortimer creates a tension that draws you in from the very first page!” – Victoria, Retired, Belfast












She had noticed him before, of course. And recognised him. What woman wouldn’t notice this dark and broodingly handsome man, or recognise him as being one of the wealthy and powerful Greek Lyonedes cousins?


His looks didn’t hurt, of course. Eva stood five-eleven in her three-inch heels, but Markos Lyonedes was still several inches taller. Tall enough that he could look down at her with warm and broodingly sensual green eyes.

‘I hope you’ll excuse my coming over and introducing myself?’ He quirked dark, questioning brows over enigmatic green eyes. ‘I’m Markos Lyonedes.’

Even his voice was sexy, Eva acknowledged. Deep and husky, with an undertone of dark and sensual. The sort of voice guaranteed to send a shiver of delight down women’s spines.

Other women’s spines, Eva corrected firmly. Fortunately she was totally immune to conceited men like Markos Lyonedes. Most especially to Markos Lyonedes himself.

‘I know who you are, Mr Lyonedes,’ she said. Just as she knew exactly what he was.


THE LYONEDES LEGACY

Nothing—and no one—

dares to stand in the way of these Greek tycoons

With the strength and allure of Adonis,

these two Greek cousins stand proud

at the head of their empire.

Their Achilles’ heel?

Beautiful women.

In May 2012 DEFYING DRAKON

Drakon Lyonedes is accustomed to

having any beauty he wants, but Gemini Bartholomew

proves a surprising challenge!

This month… HIS REPUTATION PRECEDES HIM

Markos Lyonedes, the charming rogue, conceals

a will of steel every bit as forceful as his cousin’s!




About the Author


CAROLE MORTIMER was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978, and has now written over one hundred and fifty books for Harlequin Mills & Boon


. Carole has six sons: Matthew, Joshua, Timothy, Michael, David and Peter. She says, ‘I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live in a lovely part of England.’

Recent titles by the same author:

DEFYING DRAKON

(The Lyonedes Legacy) THE TALK OF HOLLYWOOD SURRENDER TO THE PAST TAMING THE LAST ST CLAIRE (The Scandalous St Claires)

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk


His Reputation Precedes Him

Carole Mortimer




















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To absent friends




CHAPTER ONE


‘I thought the meeting earlier with Senator Ashcroft’s aide went well…’

Markos Lyonedes took one last look at the late afternoon New York skyline from the eightieth-floor window of his office before turning to look at his PA, his expression rueful. ‘Yes?’

Gerry gave him a quizzical glance as he stood on the other side of the imposing mahogany desk. ‘Didn’t you?’

Markos moved back into the spacious room. His dark suit was tailored to fit perfectly across muscled shoulders and chest, lean waist and long, powerful legs. He honed that fitness at the moment with early-morning runs in one of New York’s parks. Aged thirty-four, he was a couple of inches over six feet, with dark, slightly over-long hair, and shrewd green eyes set in a swarthily handsome and chiselled face indicative of his Greek heritage.

He gave the other man a steady glance. ‘That depends upon whether Senator Ashcroft would have sent his aide or come himself if Drakon were still in charge of the New York office.’

Just a month ago Markos had been based at the London offices of Lyonedes Enterprises, the company he owned with his cousin Drakon, with a full and busy business and social life, and no thoughts of moving to New York. That was before Drakon had met Gemini, the London-based Englishwoman he was to fall in love with. Drakon and Gemini had become engaged and were married just two short weeks later. The two of them were even now on their honeymoon on the Aegean island owned by the Lyonedes family.

Luckily Markos and Gerry had instantly found a rapport, and Drakon had already expressed his approval of the PA Markos had taken on at the London office, following a rather embarrassing episode for Markos with the young woman who had been his previous PA. Just thinking of the way she had thrown herself at him during the last business trip they’d made together was still enough to make Markos shudder.

‘Drakon had already accepted the Senator’s invitation. He must have forgotten to mention it with all the wedding arrangements,’ Gerry dismissed. ‘Senator Ashcroft obviously wished to make sure that the new head of Lyonedes Enterprises, New York, was aware of the invitation. And he didn’t send just any aide to extend the invitation—he sent his only son!’ Gerry gave a grin. He was a tall, rangy man in his late thirties, with sandy-coloured hair and a pleasant rather than handsome face.

Markos raised dark brows. ‘That’s good?’

Gerry’s smile widened. ‘The Senator is grooming Robert Junior to take over when he retires in a couple of years. And invitations for the event on Saturday evening are being coveted like bars of gold by New York society. My wife would kill to get one. I thought your offhand acceptance of the invitation was pitched about right,’ he added approvingly.

‘It was actually caution on my part—because I wasn’t sure if I was being insulted or not.’ Markos gave a grimace as he sat down behind the desk. ‘I’m afraid American politics remain a complete mystery to me.’

‘All you need to know about most of our politicians is that re-election is their main goal, along with gathering up the necessary finances to run a successful campaign. That’s why the Senator’s schmoozing the New York head of Lyonedes Enterprises. This company employs several thousand New Yorkers, and thousands more all over the world.’ Gerry gave another grin.

‘That’s a pretty strong incentive for the Senator—’ He broke off as a knock sounded on the door before Markos’s executive secretary entered the office.

Lena Holmes was yet another invaluable employee Markos had inherited from his cousin. A woman in her late forties, slightly plump and motherly in her plain dark business suits, she nevertheless succeeded in running Markos’s office with the precision of a sergeantmajor in the English army.

‘Sorry to interrupt, Mr Lyonedes, but I thought I should let you know straight away that Ms Grey has cancelled her five o’clock appointment.’

Again, Lena’s disapproving tone implied.

Evangeline Grey, interior designer extraordinaire—if her reputation was to be believed—and the woman Gerry’s wife had recommended for redesigning the rooms in the penthouse apartment above them, had already cancelled one appointment earlier in the week.

‘What was her excuse this time?’

Lena’s mouth tightened. ‘An emergency appointment with her dentist.’

Markos glanced at the plain gold watch on his wrist and saw that it was already five minutes to the appointed time of five o’clock; if Evangeline Grey had intended being here for their appointment this evening then she should have left her downtown office some time ago, not cancelled five minutes before she was due to arrive.

‘It must have been a very sudden emergency…’

‘I wouldn’t know, Mr Lyonedes.’ Lena expression remained disapproving. ‘She asked if she might reschedule for Monday evening at five o’clock instead.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I told her that I would return her call on Monday morning and let her know if that time was convenient for you,’ Lena reported with satisfaction.

‘And is it?’

‘You currently have no other appointments at that time,’ she conceded.

Markos smiled ruefully. ‘But it won’t hurt to let her think about it over the weekend?’

‘Exactly.’ Lena nodded.

‘Thanks, Lena.’ Markos waited until his secretary had left the office and closed the door firmly behind her before turning to look questioningly at Gerry. ‘That’s the second time Evangeline Grey has cancelled on me in a week.’

The older man turned up his hands. ‘I have absolutely no idea what’s going on there. Kirsty thinks the sun rises and sets on the woman’s interior designs. And I have to admit I thoroughly approve of the innovations she made in our bedroom six months ago…’

Markos quirked mocking brows. ‘Do I want to know what they are?’

‘Probably not, as Kirsty is now four months pregnant!’ Gerry chuckled before sobering. ‘Do you want me to see if she can recommend someone else?’

Lyonedes Tower, both here in New York and in London, had a penthouse apartment occupying the whole of the top floor of the building. Markos had never taken up residence in the apartment in London during the ten years he had been based there, preferring to live away from his place of work—just as Drakon had preferred to own an apartment in Manhattan for the time he had lived and worked in New York: an apartment he and Gemini had decided to keep for the times when they visited.

Having only arrived a week ago, and finding the apartment above this office to be both convenient and spacious, with fantastic views over the skyline of New York, Markos had thought it best to make it his home until he felt more settled. He had decided to call in an interior designer with the intention of having it decorated more to his personal taste. Evangeline Grey was that interior designer.

The apparently elusive Evangeline Grey.

He gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. ‘Let’s wait and see what happens on Monday.’

‘Phew, am I glad you said that!’ His PA grinned good-naturedly. ‘I would really hate to disappoint Kirsty. She likes the woman so much that before you even asked for the name of an interior designer she was thinking of trying to arrange a dinner party so that she could get the two of you together,’ he explained at Markos’s questioning glance.

‘If she cancels the next appointment that may be the only way the two of us ever meet!’ Markos leant back in his high-backed leather chair. ‘For some reason the name Evangeline gave me the impression she was an older woman…?’

Gerry shook his head. ‘Late twenties, I think.’

‘Really?’ His brows rose. ‘Isn’t that young to have built up the professional reputation she has?’

The other man shrugged. ‘If you haven’t made it in New York by the time you’re thirty then you’re never going to!’

Markos smiled slightly. ‘Is she attractive?’

‘I was always out at work when she came to our apartment, so I’ve never actually met her.’ Gerry frowned. ‘But I’m presuming so, if Kirsty wanted to introduce the two of you.’

Markos gave an appreciative grin. ‘In that case let’s hope that she actually manages to get here on Monday evening!’

Gerry nodded. ‘If only to save me from suffering the brunt of Kirsty’s disappointment! Although there will be plenty of beautiful women for you to meet at the Senator’s party tomorrow evening.’

He gave a weary shake of his head. ‘I think I’ve probably already been introduced to every beautiful woman in New York over the last four days!’

‘You haven’t met Kirsty yet!’

Markos grimaced. ‘Being surrounded by all this love and romance is bringing me out in a rash!’ First Drakon and Gemini, and now Gerry had made no secret of the fact that he was very happily married. ‘As I now unexpectedly have an hour free, why don’t we go through the last of these contracts?’

The elusive Evangeline Grey was already dismissed from Markos’s thoughts as he instead concentrated his attention on the work he wanted to get finished before beginning his weekend.

A weekend which now seemed to include spending his Saturday evening at Senator Ashcroft’s drinks party.

For some reason Markos had felt slightly restless since moving to New York. Of course the two weeks before the wedding had been frenetic, followed by his lethargy after flying to New York only a day later. His arrival had been quickly followed by one meeting after another as Markos introduced himself to the company’s extensive business associates, and there had been a social function of some sort for him to attend every evening as New York society opened their homes and welcomed him to their city in place of his cousin Drakon.

Maybe the change-over had happened so quickly that Markos still felt slightly wrong-footed by the unfamiliarity? This office. The apartment on the penthouse floor above this one. The new people Markos worked with every day, and the others he socialised with every evening.

Whatever the reason for his restlessness, Markos knew that attending yet another party tomorrow evening was the last thing he wanted to do…

Eva had never enjoyed cocktail parties, having been forced to attend far too many of them in the past. She enjoyed those given by US Senators even less. All of the city’s rich and beautiful were filling to capacity the huge reception room at one of New York’s most prestigious hotels. The chatter was loud, the laughter even more so, and the jewels adorning the elegantly clad ladies’ wrists, throats and ears glittered and sparkled in the light given off by the dozen or so crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. At the same time Eva’s senses were being assaulted by the smell of dozens of expensive perfumes filling the air-conditioned room.

But, as her mother had been so fond of saying, ‘What can’t be cured must be endured.’ It had certainly been true with regard to her marriage to Eva’s father…

It was taking all of Eva’s endurance to grit her teeth and get through this cocktail party hosted by none other than visiting Senator Robert Ashcroft. Not because she thought there was a risk of meeting any of her ex-husband’s family—she knew from mutual friends that Jack had taken over the family’s Paris office just over a year ago, and her ex-father-in-law, Jack Senior, didn’t support Senator Ashcroft’s political party. No, there was no possibility of her meeting any of Jack’s family this evening.

Even so, Eva doubted she would have bothered accepting the Senator’s invitation if she hadn’t known how much it would appeal to the man who was her date for this evening. It was exactly the sort of social function Glen enjoyed. Which was fine. It just wasn’t the real reason she had wanted to see him again.

In truth, Eva had no idea how Glen was going to react when she found the opportunity to explain that she had absolutely no intentions of going to bed with him—ever—or with any other man, for that matter. Instead she was thinking of asking him if he would be the sperm donor if she went ahead with the IVF she was considering. A subject so delicate, so personal, was something she felt she had to lead up to slowly, rather than blurting it out at their first—or even second!—meeting.

Senator Ashcroft’s drinks party was turning out to be every bit the crush of people Markos had expected it might be. Most of them were already known to him after this past week of socialising, and a lot of the men wanted to renew their acquaintance with him. Their wives, daughters or girlfriends were making no secret of the fact that they found his dark and brooding looks attractive.

Not that Markos had any complaints about that last part. He had enjoyed a healthy sex life during his years of living and working in London, and he sincerely hoped to continue doing so now that he had moved to New York.

Nevertheless, even surrounded by beautiful women as he was, all seemingly vying for his attention, Markos still noticed the woman in the figure-hugging red gown, standing across the room…

Probably because she stood out from the rest of the ‘beautiful people’ present in as much as she was making no effort to respond to the flattering conversation of the half a dozen men currently surrounding her, but instead seemed totally bored—both by them and by her surroundings.

But it wasn’t just that air of uninterest which had captured Markos’s attention. Nor was it the fact that she was young—probably in her late twenties—and extremely beautiful. Ebony hair cascaded lushly over her shoulders and halfway down her spine, and her eyes were light in colour—possibly grey or blue?—and surrounded by thick dark lashes. Her skin was the colour of pale alabaster, her features delicately lovely, and the fullness of her lips was glossed the same tempting red as that utterly decadent gown. Her only jewellery was a pair of delicate gold filigree earrings which dangled almost to the bareness of her shoulders.

All of that would certainly be enough reason for any man to give her a second glance, but still it wasn’t what had caught and held Markos’s attention, what had caused his body to harden in instant arousal the moment he looked at her.

Every other woman in the room wore masses of expensive jewels at their ears throat, wrists and fingers and, whether tall or short, they were all fashionably slender—a look that wasn’t flattering to some of the younger women, and even less so to most of the older ones. The woman in the fitted red strapless gown wore only those earrings, and her figure was…

There was a word for her type of figure. An old-fashioned word that described her exactly—one that had often been used to describe movie stars of the golden age… Voluptuous! That was it! The tall woman in the red fitted gown was voluptuous. Not fat—her body was too obviously toned for that. She simply had an hourglass figure: curvily, lushly, sexily voluptuous. The sort of body, in fact, that most men preferred but so rarely found in this fashionable age of slender and willowy.

Her shoulders were bare, that expanse of skin the same smooth alabaster as her face, and that wickedly enticing gown enhanced the fullness of breasts that were obviously bare beneath the silky material that swept over her narrow waist before clinging lovingly to the sweet curve of her hips. The material finished a couple of inches above her knees to reveal long and shapely legs, with three-inch heeled red strappy sandals on her elegantly slender feet.

Markos’s breath now caught in his throat as she looked over the top of the heads of the men surrounding her, glancing around the room in obvious uninterest—almost as if she was aware of someone watching her, but had no idea who or why. His earlier impression of her complete boredom with her admirers and her surroundings was confirmed as she repressed a yawn. At the same time as their glances met.

Met and then, as the woman’s gaze shifted slowly back to his, held.

Markos quirked a questioning brow—only to receive a blank stare and then a uninterested shrug in reply, before the woman in the red gown, as Markos was already calling her in his mind, turned away to accept a fresh glass of champagne from one of the men surrounding her, to all intents and purposes as if she had already forgotten Markos’s existence.

While it might be a refreshing change after the past week and this last couple of hours of having women throw themselves before him like sacrificial offerings, this certainly wasn’t the reaction Markos was used to receiving when he showed an interest in a beautiful woman.

As one of the two Greek-born Lyonedes cousins, with business interests worldwide, and wealthy beyond imagining, Markos had never been naïve enough to believe it was his looks alone which attracted women to him. Nor did he believe that every woman he met had to find his height and dark looks attractive.

But still, it irked him that the woman in the figure-hugging red gown—a woman who made him hard just from looking at her!—had dismissed him so easily and completely.

Maybe she was married?

Or engaged?

Or perhaps in a serious relationship?

No, it certainly wasn’t either of the first two; the hand holding the glass of champagne she had just raised to those lush red lips—her left hand—a long and slender hand Markos could all too easily imagine moving caressingly over his much darker skin in a pastime his arousal also approved of as he felt his shaft throb in anticipation!—was as naked of jewellery as her throat and wrists. And if it was the latter then where was the man she was involved with?

If a woman as beautiful as that had belonged to Markos then he certainly wouldn’t have left her alone for a minute, at the mercy of the pack of hyenas currently in for the kill.

If a woman like that belonged to him…?

What the hell?

Markos didn’t do belonging. Or even long-term. And definitely not permanent.

A few days, in some cases a few weeks, of enjoying each other’s company—and bodies—was the limit of any interest he had shown in the women he had been involved with over the past eighteen years.

Liking—yes.

Sex—definitely yes.

Love or belonging—definitely no.

His cousin Drakon—a man who had been even more averse to permanent relationships than Markos until he’d met Gemini a month ago, and fallen so quickly in love with her—might have succumbed to commitment to one woman, but Markos certainly wasn’t interested in doing the same.

He desired the woman in the red gown. He was more than a little annoyed at the ease with which she had dismissed him just now. At the same time as he was aroused and hard just from looking at the way that fitted red gown clung so lovingly to all those voluptuous and below the gown naked curves. It was an arousal Markos knew he would prefer her to satisfy, rather than another woman’s willing body.

It was with that thought in mind that Markos distractedly made his excuses to the women crowded about him before crossing the room towards the woman in the red gown.




CHAPTER TWO


GOLD.

Markos had been wrong about the eyes of the woman in the red gown; they were neither blue nor green, but so light a brown they appeared a deep shade of amber gold.

A deep, glowing and unfathomable amber that swept over Markos in cool uninterest even as the men gathered about her took one glance in his direction before parting to allow him to reach the woman’s side.

Like Moses parting the Red Sea, Eva noted ruefully as the men around her instinctively stood aside for the tall, dark and arrogantly handsome man who had deliberately caught her gaze a few minutes ago before making his way so determinedly across the room towards her.

She had noticed him before, of course. And recognised him. What woman wouldn’t notice this dark and broodingly handsome man? Or not recognise him as being one of the wealthy and powerful Greek Lyonedes cousins? Certainly Markos Lyonedes’s photograph had been all over the New York newspapers this past week as he attended one social function or another.

His looks didn’t hurt, of course. Eva stood five eleven in her three-inch-heeled red sandals, but Markos Lyonedes was still several inches taller. Tall enough that he could look down at her with warm and broodingly sensual green eyes.

His dark hair was inclined to curl over his ears and nape, and his emerald-coloured gaze was now narrowed and assessing, set in an arrestingly handsome face that looked as if it might have been carved from mellow gold stone: high and hard cheekbones, a long blade of a nose, chiselled lips, and a square and determined chin. The perfectly tailored black evening suit did little to hide the fact that he was also powerfully built—wide and muscled shoulders and chest, flat and tapered abdomen, lean hips, and long, long legs.

No doubt about it. When it came to charisma and good-looks, Markos Lyonedes had it in spades!

It was perhaps unfortunate—for him—that Eva knew Markos Lyonedes to be exactly the sort of man she wanted nothing to do with. Personally or professionally. Which hadn’t precluded her having a little fun at his expense this past week…

‘I hope you’ll excuse my coming over and introducing myself?’ He quirked dark, questioning brows over enigmatic green eyes. ‘I’m Markos Lyonedes.’

Even his voice was sexy, Eva acknowledged. Deep and husky, with an undertone of dark and sensual. The sort of voice guaranteed to send a shiver of delight down women’s spines.

Other women’s spines, Eva corrected firmly. Fortunately she was totally immune to conceited men like Markos Lyonedes. Most especially to Markos Lyonedes himself. ‘I know who you are, Mr Lyonedes,’ she said. Just as she knew exactly what he was.

The dozen or so men who had been vying for her attention seemed to have recognised that he was a man to beware of—if for different reasons than Eva’s—and had now drifted off to a safe distance, leaving the two of them completely alone in a room full of the richest and most fashionable people in New York.

‘You do?’ His brow arched questioningly.

She gave a smile of rebuke. ‘All of New York society—and most especially the women!—is agog with the fact that Markos Lyonedes has recently arrived in our midst!’

Markos studied the voluptuous woman in the clinging red gown through narrowed lids as he detected the mockery beneath her smoky tone.

Her beauty was all the more apparent now that Markos was standing next to those deep amber-coloured eyes, the perfect nose, the full and sensuous lips above a pointed chin. Her alabaster skin had the fine smooth appearance of porcelain in the bareness of her shoulders in the strapless gown.

And she was most definitely naked beneath that gown!

Well…her breasts certainly were. The berry-like nipples were temptingly outlined against the silky material, the perfect fit of the gown over the fullness of her hips surely only allowed for a pair of gossamer-thin panties. Panties the same vibrant red as her gown? And would they be made of lace? Or silk?

Markos drew in a deep breath as his already hot and aroused shaft gave a throb of response just at the thought of his seeing this shapely woman wearing only a pair of brief and silky red panties.

‘And you are…?’

‘Eva.’

His smile was teasing. ‘Just Eva?’

She gave a light inclination of her head. ‘Just Eva.’

The coolness in her voice, as well as her demeanour, was really starting to irritate—and arouse!—the hell out of him. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Just Eva.’

The sensual fullness of her lips curved into a chiding smile. ‘Shouldn’t you get to know me a little better before deciding that?’

‘Well, I already know that you’re English,’ Markos murmured slowly as he finally heard her speak more than two words together.

That enigmatic smile widened, revealing white, even teeth. ‘Obviously.’

Yes, definitely mockery, Markos noted wryly, even as he wondered at the reason for it. It usually took a beautiful woman a lot longer than two minutes’ acquaintance to decide he might be dangerous.

He nodded. ‘Having just lived in England for ten years, English is an accent I’ve become familiar with.’ An accent, he now realised, that he had sorely missed this past week.

Eva gave an acknowledging inclination of her head. ‘And how are you enjoying New York?’

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Well, so far I’ve realised that it truly is a city that never sleeps.’

That was one of the things Eva had come to love about New York since she had moved here seven years ago. At the time she had been twenty-two, fresh out of university and newly married to a native New Yorker. Her career had instantly blossomed, and the city of New York had ‘taken’—but unfortunately the marriage hadn’t. She and Jack had separated after only four years, and divorced not long after. That experience, and her own parents’ less than happy marriage, had left Eva with the viewpoint that once bitten was twice shy—and with the intention of never marrying again.

She shrugged. ‘Oh, come on. If nothing else you have to appreciate the fact that you can buy a decent cup of coffee here any time of the day or night.’

Smoky green eyes warmed in sensual invitation. ‘I’ve found that the percolator in my apartment makes an excellent cup of coffee. Day or night…’

‘Wow.’ Eva looked at him admiringly. ‘It took you… what…? All of five minutes’ acquaintance before inviting me back to your apartment.’ She went on dryly at his enquiring look, ‘Surely that has to be a record, even for you?’

Markos stilled, now positive that he hadn’t been mistaken about the sharp edge of derision that seemed to underlie every word this woman said to him. ‘“Even for me…”?’ he prompted softly.

She shrugged those bare shoulders, the movement drawing attention to the full and creamy swell of her breasts above the neckline of the silky red gown. ‘I’m afraid your reputation has preceded you, Markos.’

‘And what reputation might that be…?’

Amber-coloured eyes looked up into his unblinkingly. ‘Why, that you’re as lethally single-minded in your pursuit of a woman you desire as you are cold and calculating when it comes to ending a relationship.’

Markos straightened, his lazy humour fading in the face of her attack. ‘I beg your pardon…?’

Had she gone too far? Eva wondered with an inward grimace. After all, circumstances might be such that she was predisposed to dislike and disapprove of Markos Lyonedes, but having now met him there was no doubting that he was a force to be reckoned with in New York—both professionally and socially. Just as his cousin Drakon had been before him.

She had met Drakon Lyonedes twice, both times only briefly, and had found him to be a much different man from his slightly younger cousin. Just as handsome as Markos, Drakon had had a demeanour that was arrogantly remote—whereas she already knew that Markos possessed a latent sensuality capable of wrapping its tentacles about a woman’s senses.

Even hers?

Perhaps…

But the fact that Markos Lyonedes now appeared every inch the powerful and arrogant Greek billionaire businessman that he was, instead of the flirtatiously seductive man of a few seconds ago, would seem to indicate that she had indeed overstepped the line. As far as he was concerned, at least.

Eva had only wanted to let him know that she had no intention of being so much as flattered by his marked attention, let alone falling for his seductive and no doubt practised—charm.

She gave a light and deliberately dismissive laugh. ‘I’m only repeating what the gossips are saying about you.’

‘Indeed?’ That green gaze was hard and unyielding. ‘And do you always listen to rumours rather than forming your own opinions of people?’

She shrugged. ‘It’s an unwise woman who ignores gossip completely.’ Just as it was an unwise woman who chose to ignore the fact that Markos Lyonedes’s voice had hardened in the last few minutes. Those clipped tones now betrayed the fact that English was not his native tongue.

‘No doubt allowing you to decide that there is no smoke without fire…?’

Oh, Eva was pretty sure there was a lot of fire when this man chose to turn his lethal charm on a woman. ‘Not exactly,’ she dismissed dryly. ‘There have been dozens of photographs of you with beautiful woman in the newspapers over the years. And articles in glossy magazines. Those things aside, I do have eyes and common sense with which to make up my own mind.’

His nostrils flared. ‘And yet you had already decided to distrust me, from what you had heard of my reputation, before we had even met?’

Eva had decided so much more than that! ‘I knew enough to be wary, yes.’

Markos Lyonedes’s jaw tightened. ‘You are not prepared to give me the benefit of the doubt?’

‘In what way?’

‘In that photographs in newspapers can often be deceiving, and gossip misleading.’

‘Probably not, no,’ she answered without hesitation.

‘That’s a pity.’

‘Is it?’

His mouth tightened and he gave a stiff inclination of his head. ‘I trust I did not interrupt your enjoyment of the evening?’

She grimaced. ‘I wasn’t enjoying it much even before you came over and spoke to me.’

‘And my conversation has added to that lack of enjoyment?’

Eva shrugged. ‘I shouldn’t let it bother you, Markos; it’s really nothing personal.’

‘On the contrary. I believe your comments in regard to me to have been very personal,’ he responded tersely.

Eva looked up at him, realising that although he appeared outwardly controlled, inwardly Markos Lyonedes was quietly, chillingly angry—as the tightness of his jaw and the angry glitter of those green eyes testified. Maybe playing this silly game of cat-and-mouse with him over this past week had not been a good move on her part.

She gave a dismissive shake of her head. ‘I just thought I would save you wasting any of your time in attempting to charm me.’

‘Would it be wasted?’

‘Most definitely,’ Eva confirmed with feeling.

His eyes became glacial. ‘In that case, I will relieve you of the necessity of suffering my company a moment longer.’

Was that disappointment Eva now felt at this man’s acceptance of her scathing dismissal of him? Surely it couldn’t be—not when she knew from her cousin Donna how callous this man could be?

Donna should have known better than to become involved with a man like Markos Lyonedes in the first place, of course. But then, her cousin had never had the most discerning of tastes when it came to her choice in men—a family trait on the female side, if Eva’s mother and Eva were any example. Having now met the man herself, Eva could perhaps better understand Donna’s attraction to him. A fatal attraction and, in Eva’s opinion, one that applied to any woman Markos Lyonedes became involved with. The man was far too powerful and attractive for his own good. He had only to click his fingers to have any woman he wanted.

Except Eva.

She and Donna had often stayed with their maternal grandparents when they were children, and during those visits they had developed a healthy competitiveness towards each other. A competitiveness which had become less healthy in adulthood, unfortunately, resulting in their rarely meeting as they pursued their separate careers and lifestyles, particularly once Eva had married Jack and moved to New York. But when Eva’s marriage had finally come to an agonising end Donna had been the only one in her family to bother telephoning Eva to commiserate.

In fact her cousin had been ecstatic when she’d first called and told Eva of her relationship with Markos Lyonedes. She’s been able to talk of nothing but how wonderful he was, and how much she longed to become his wife. When Markos Lyonedes had suddenly dumped Donna, just over a month ago, it had seemed only fair for Eva to listen sympathetically when her cousin called almost every day to talk endlessly of how much she was still in love with him.

Even if Eva hadn’t been warned off by Donna’s unhappy experience with Markos Lyonedes, she knew she would still have been wary of him. He was everything her broken marriage had taught her to stay well away from. Too rich. Too handsome. Far too powerful. And, as she now knew, too immediately and lethally sensual!

It was perhaps the latter trait that Eva found most disturbing. She knew that she wasn’t as immune to that inborn sensuality, the way this man looked, or the hard leanness of his body, as she might have hoped or wished to be.

She had met dozens of handsome and charming men during the three years since her separation and divorce—had even tried dating some of them. But not a single one of those men had touched her emotions, and nor had they dispelled the cynicism of feeling she now felt in regard to relationships.

Markos Lyonedes was such a forceful presence, even in a room full of equally powerful men—one of them was a US Senator, for goodness’ sake!—that Eva had become aware of him the moment he had entered the room a short time ago. When he had looked at her a few minutes ago she had felt a shiver down the length of her spine as she’d recognised the admiration in his heated green gaze.

‘I will leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening,’ Eva finally replied derisively. ‘I’m sure all the other ladies present will be only too happy to entertain you.’

Markos looked down at her piercingly. ‘Is it possible the two of us have met before?’

Those amber eyes widened. ‘Not that I’m aware, no.’

Not that Markos was aware, either—he was sure he would have remembered if he had ever met this voluptuously beautiful woman before. Even so, he sensed there was something more to Eva’s comments regarding his reputation than her offhand dismissal implied. As far as he was aware, none of the women he had been involved with had ever walked away broken-hearted.

Or could it be that he was just too used to having women falling over themselves to attract his attention rather than the other way around? That he had believed Eva would feel flattered at his marked attention? If that was indeed the case then it was worse than arrogant of him, and he deservced the scorn she made no effort to hide.

Markos forced the tension from his shoulders. ‘You—’

‘Ah, there you are, Eva baby.’ A tall, blond-haired man in his late thirties moved in beside Eva. His blue gaze was curious as he turned to smile at Markos, his teeth very white and straight against his slight tan. ‘Great party, isn’t it?’

‘Great,’ Markos echoed, as he inwardly acknowledged that he wasn’t pleased at seeing the other man’s arm draped possessively about Eva’s waist. This was ridiculous of him, when Eva had made it so obvious that she had no interest in him. Perhaps the other man’s proprietorial attitude explained that lack of interest?

Maybe. Although Eva hadn’t looked particularly pleased at being called ‘Eva baby’.

She straightened away from that possessive arm about her waist before making the introductions. ‘Markos, this is Glen Asher. Glen, meet Markos Lyonedes.’

‘Really? The Markos Lyonedes?’ Glen prompted warmly as the two men shook hands.

‘Yes, really,’ Eva confirmed, irritated that Glen was so obviously bowled over by meeting him.

Admittedly the man was as rich as Croesus, but he was too handsome and charming for his own good. And Lyonedes Enterprises was one of the most powerful business organisations in the world, owning a private jet, as well as properties all over the world—including, Eva believed, their own private island in the Aegean. But did Glen have to look quite so impressed?

‘Lyonedes Tower is a monument to beautiful architecture,’ Glen added admiringly.

In that, Eva did have to agree with him. Standing at least eighty floors high, and built of a pale, rose-coloured marble, with tinted sun-reflecting windows, Lyonedes Tower was one of the most beautiful buildings in New York, rivalling the Empire State and the Chrysler Buildings.

Even so…

‘It’s just another tall building blocking the view, Glen,’ she dismissed impatiently.

Markos Lyonedes looked amused rather than annoyed by her comment. ‘But I thank you anyway,’ he told the other man dryly.

Eva’s irritation deepened. ‘I believe it’s time we were leaving, Glen.’

He looked crestfallen. ‘But we only just got here…’

Markos’s previous annoyance at Eva’s scathing comments about his reputation had dissipated totally in the face of her increasing irritation with the man who had accompanied her here this evening. If she was in a serious relationship, it wasn’t with Glen Asher, and Markos couldn’t see how a man Eva was involved with would be happy about her attending a party with another man—particularly one as handsome and obviously successful as Glen.

So, no serious relationship.

But what did it matter? The woman he knew only as ‘Just Eva’ couldn’t have made her complete lack of interest in him any more obvious. Contrarily, it just made her all the more intriguing to Markos.

He had never thought of himself as being a masochist before, but maybe this move to New York, and the over-abundance of beautiful women vying for his attention this past week, was turning him into one—because if anything his attraction to Eva had only deepened in the last few minutes.

He looked down at her from between hooded lids. ‘I would be more than happy to escort Eva to her home if you would like to remain at the party a while longer, Glen.’

Amber-gold eyes widened in what looked like horror at the suggestion, even as bright spots of colour brightened those pale alabaster cheeks. ‘If Glen wishes to stay, I’m perfectly capable of ordering a cab and taking myself home, thank you,’ she replied tightly.

He continued to look down at her. ‘There’s no need when my car is parked downstairs.’

Eva wanted to tell Markos Lyonedes what he could do with his car!

But, even more important than that, she now deeply regretted having invited Glen to accompany her here this evening in the first place.

They had met the previous week, at a party similar to this one. Eva had studied him dispassionately, finding that she approved of his blond hair and blue eyes, and the fact that he was tall and appeared healthy.

On the basis that she couldn’t just march up to a complete stranger and ask him to be the donor for her IVF baby—once tests had proved he was fertile, of course—Eva had decided it might be better if the two of them got to know each other a little better before she dropped the bombshell on Glen. That was the only reason she had gone to his office early yesterday evening and asked him to be her escort to Senator Ashcroft’s cocktail party tonight.

Although Glen seemed to have a very different idea of where their relationship was going…

She gave Markos Lyonedes a brightly insincere smile. ‘It’s very kind of you to offer, Markos, but—’

‘But there’s absolutely no need when I’m happy to leave with Eva,’ Glen cut in with smooth confidence, his arm once again moving about Eva’s waist. ‘I booked dinner for the two of us at nine-thirty,’ he added temptingly.

A dinner that he was no doubt hoping would result in the two of them sharing the bed in his apartment later on this evening, or possibly in Eva’s. But Eva knew that sharing Glen’s bed—or any other man’s, come to that—simply wasn’t going to happen.

Nor, in this day and age, was it necessary. It had all seemed perfectly logical when Eva had made her decision several months ago. She was desperate to have a child of her own, but not another marriage or relationship with a man who would ultimately let her down. One failed marriage was surely enough for any woman.

She had it all planned out. She would become pregnant before her thirtieth birthday in six months’ time, move her offices to her apartment and continue working from there until her eighth month, have the baby, and then resume working once the baby was three months old or so, hiring a nanny who could take over on the occasions Eva had to go out and visit with her clients.

Logic. Not emotion.

Except it wasn’t logic which drove Eva but an aching, driving need. Jack had wanted to try for a baby as soon as they were married, and as a family of her own was what Eva wanted too she had been only too happy to agree to the suggestion. Month after month she had waited to see if this was going to be the month when she could excitedly tell Jack she was pregnant. Except it hadn’t happened. Not the first year. Nor the second. Until in the end they had decided to see a specialist and find out if either of them had a problem—and, if they did, what to do about it.

The results of those tests had been devastating and, although Eva hadn’t realised it at the time, they had also sounded the death knell to her marriage.

Jack was sterile. One hundred per cent, no room for error, sterile.

Oh, they had told each other that it didn’t matter, that they had each other. It had only been when Eva suggested that maybe they could adopt that the chasm had widened even further between them. Jack had adamantly refused to consider adoption, stating that his blue-blood New York family would never accept as heir a child who wasn’t biologically Jack’s.

Eva had tried to believe that having each other really was enough. While each day she had died a little inside at the knowledge that there would never be any children in her marriage. No babies to love and nurture, her own or adopted. No happy house full of the children, she had longed for all her life after growing up an only child in the war zone that had been her parents’ marriage.

She and Jack had stayed together for another two years after the specialist had delivered his devastating news. Years during which they had drifted apart as they both buried themselves in their individual careers rather than face the ever-widening rift in their marriage. Years when Jack became involved in affair after affair—possibly as a sop to his dented virility?—only to break them off each time Eva found out about them, with tears and declarations of love on his part, and promises of future fidelity. Until the next time. And the next.

Eva’s love for Jack had died a little more with each of those affairs. Until there had been nothing left but the shell of their marriage. A marriage Eva wouldn’t have wanted to bring a child into even if it had been possible.

Another three years of being on her own after the divorce, of building her interior design business into one of the most successful in New York, and Eva had realised there was still something missing from her life. The same something that had always been missing from her life.

A baby of her own.

Lots of professional women had babies on their own nowadays—so why not Eva? She certainly had enough money to be able to provide for them both comfortably, and her career was of a kind that could be worked around a baby’s needs.

So the plan was to find herself a man who was healthy, explain to him what it meant to be an IVF donor, and present him with the legal contract she would expect him to sign. Both of them would be protected from any financial demands being made on the other after the baby was born.

Putting that idea into practice had proved much harder than Eva had imagined. Broaching the subject, asking any man to coldly, clinically donate his sperm for IVF, had proved difficult.

‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Glen.’ She smiled warmly, more for Markos Lyonedes’s benefit than Glen’s. Her smile faded as she turned to look at the Greek businessman. ‘If you will excuse us?’

‘Of course.’ Markos gave a slight inclination of his head, wondering what thoughts had been going through Eva’s head these past few minutes to form that frown between those golden eyes. Whatever they had been, he certainly didn’t hold out a lot of hope for Glen Asher’s chances of sharing her bed tonight. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you both.’

‘And you,’ Glen assured him warmly.

It was a warmth that was in no way reflected in Eva’s incredible gold eyes, and she made no effort to echo her escort’s enthusiasm. ‘We’ll wish you a good evening, then, Mr Lyonedes.’

His eyes laughed down into hers. ‘I believe you called me Markos earlier.’

‘Did I?’ she dismissed coolly. ‘How over-familiar of me!’

Not familiar enough for Markos. He turned to watch Eva and her escort cross the room to make their excuses to their host before leaving. All without those amber-gold eyes giving so much as a glance back in his direction.

Markos continued to watch the sensuous sway of those curvaceous hips so lovingly outlined in that clinging red gown, and made a silent promise to himself as the doorman closed the door behind Eva’s departure.

A promise that one day—or night; it didn’t really matter what time it was!—he would hear Eva scream his name as he made love to her.




CHAPTER THREE


‘WELL, well, well—if it isn’t Ms Evangeline Grey come to call at last!’ Markos observed dryly from where he sat in his high-backed leather chair behind the mahogany desk in his office.

Lena had shown the interior designer in at exactly five o’clock on Monday evening, before quietly closing the door behind her as she left them alone together.

Markos and the interior designer Evangeline Grey.

The same Evangeline Grey who had introduced herself to him as ‘Just Eva’ on Saturday evening, in the knowledge that she had cancelled two appointments with him earlier in the week.

Markos had wasted no time after she and Glen had left the party on Saturday in asking one of Senator Ashcroft’s many aides about the identity of the woman in the red dress. Only to be informed that she was the interior designer Evangeline Grey.

Those amber-gold eyes flashed her displeasure now, as she marched into the centre of the spacious office, allowing Markos to see that she managed to look sexy even wearing a business suit—a fitted black jacket and knee-length black skirt, the latter revealing long and silky-smooth legs. Her silk blouse was the same unusual colour as her eyes; her long ebony hair neatly gathered and secured at her crown.

‘Your telephone call this morning made it clear you expected me to be here promptly at five o’clock, whether it was convenient or otherwise,’ she reminded him with barely concealed impatience.

‘Indeed.’ Markos stood up and moved slowly round his desk to lean back against it as he looked down at her between narrowed lids. ‘And the fact that you are here would seem to imply that you were no happier than I was on Saturday at the possibility of having a slur cast upon your reputation?’

A frown appeared on that smooth alabaster brow. ‘That’s hardly a fair comparison, Mr Lyonedes, when the threats you made to me this morning were in regard to my professional reputation, not my personal one.’

‘I believe the saying is “payback can be a bitch”?’ He gave an unrepentant shrug. This woman had wilfully—deliberately!—played with him on Saturday evening by not revealing her true identity, and no doubt been highly amused at Markos’s expense because of it.

Markos had thought about it long and hard over the weekend, finally deciding that if Evangeline Grey wanted to play games then he was happy to oblige her. With that in mind he had telephoned her office himself that morning and demanded to speak to her personally. After a short delay there had been a more or less one-sided conversation during which Markos had informed her that there would be no more cancelled appointments. If she didn’t want him to tell anyone and everyone who cared to listen just how unreliable he had found her professional services she would come at five.

Her only answer had been to end the call abruptly, causing Markos to chuckle wryly as he slowly placed his mobile down on his desktop.

Nevertheless, he had been sure that Eva would be here at five o’clock. He knew that she was now aware that it was well within his power to seriously damage her professional reputation if he chose to do so.

‘You’re unusually quiet today,’ he remarked, lifting his dark brows mockingly.

Oh, Eva had plenty she wanted to say to this man. She was just erring on the side of caution—for the moment.

She had realised after leaving Senator Ashcroft’s cocktail party on Saturday—her feelings of anger on behalf of her cousin aside—that it probably hadn’t been a wise move on her part to antagonise a man as powerful as Markos Lyonedes by making appointments with him which she’d never had any intention of keeping. Unwise and not a little childish, she now accepted reproachfully. As if it would really matter to a man as powerful as Markos Lyonedes if some little interior designer chose to snub him by not keeping her appointments!

Except, having met her on Saturday evening, it obviously did matter to him. It didn’t help, having duly arrived at Lyonedes Tower at five o’clock, that Eva was now totally aware of the way in which Markos Lyonedes managed to exude a predatory air—despite the expensive elegance of his tailored dark grey suit and paler grey silk shirt, with matching tie knotted meticulously at his throat.

‘Did you and Glen enjoy your late dinner on Saturday evening?’ he prompted softly.

Eva’s mouth tightened at this reminder of the time she and Glen had spent together at an Italian restaurant after leaving the Senator’s party. Several hours during which she had desperately tried to dredge up some of her former approval of Glen as an IVF donor, only to find that, rather than appreciating Glen’s healthy good looks, she was comparing them to the hard and chiselled features of the man now standing in front of her.

A man she wouldn’t even consider putting on a shortlist of potential donors for her baby.

Oh, Markos Lyonedes was definitely handsome, and obviously he was healthy and intelligent, but there all suitability as the possible father of her child ended. Markos might have more than earned his reputation for avoiding serious relationships, but Eva knew there was no way that a man as powerful as one of the Greek Lyonedes cousins would ever agree to clinically, calculatedly father a child by donating his sperm for IVF.

In fact her experience with Glen now made her wonder if it might not be better to opt for an anonymous donor after all. In the meantime, she had to cope with knowing she was physically responsive to Markos in a way she hadn’t experienced in the three years since her divorce—if ever!

Jack had been several years older than her when they’d married, and more experienced. Their lovemaking had been fun to explore at the start of their marriage. That interest, for obvious reasons, had eventually faded. To the point that by the end of their marriage, they hadn’t made love in months.

Eva’s self-esteem had been at a very low ebb after the divorce, her confidence in her desirability even lower, and it had taken months for her even to go out on a date with another man—only to discover that her emotions were completely numb, and the most she could feel for any of those men was a distant liking.

But it wasn’t anything as lukewarm as liking—distant or otherwise!—she felt in regard to Markos Lyonedes.

Eva had been convinced—with the experience of her disastrous marriage behind her, and after listening for hours to Donna’s broken-hearted meanderings down the telephone as her cousin mourned her lost love—that she was destined to be the one woman who wouldn’t ever be stupid enough to fall under the sensual spell of all that lethal Lyonedes charm and charismatic good-looks.

Which only went to prove what an arrogant fool she had been.

Because Eva now knew she only had to be in the same room as Markos Lyonedes to be aware of every single thing about him. She could feel the tug of that desire even now, causing her hands to tremble slightly, her breasts to feel hot and swollen, and a dampness between her thighs.

She could see the same desire reflected towards her in the warmth of those dark green eyes. It was a physical attunement that seemed to make the very air between them crackle and dance.

‘It was fine,’ Eva dismissed abruptly. ‘Now, if we could—’

‘Have you and Glen been together long?’

Eva frowned slightly. ‘I’m not sure that it’s any of your business, but we haven’t “been together” at all.’

Eva had gently but firmly refused Glen’s suggestion, before they parted on Saturday evening, that the two of them might go out together again this week, having lost all interest in him with regard to approaching him about IVF.

Markos raised questioning brows. ‘Yet…?’

‘Really, Mr Lyonedes—’

‘Markos.’

‘Markos.’ She gave a brief, meaningless smile of acknowledgement. ‘I really didn’t come here to discuss my personal life—so if we could we just get down to business?’

Markos settled more comfortably against the front of the desk and folded his arms across his chest. He considered Eva with narrowed but appreciative eyes. Her features really were extremely delicate: those gold-coloured eyes, high cheekbones, slender jaw, those full and sensuous lips glossed a deep peach today. With her hair secured at her crown it was now possible to see the slender arch of Eva’s delicious throat, with skin as delicate as pale china.

It was a delectable delicacy that Markos found himself aching to taste. Presumably that wasn’t completely out of the question, if Eva and Glen really weren’t together.

He straightened slowly. ‘That’s a pity, because the only thing that I’m in the least interested in talking about this evening is your personal life.’

Those gold eyes widened warily. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘No?’

Markos found himself watching intently as she moistened those peach-glossed lips before speaking again.

‘I understood from our telephone conversation earlier today that you wanted me here at five o’clock so that we could discuss possible new designs for the décor in your apartment.’

Markos smiled slightly. ‘I don’t remember so much as mentioning any designs for my apartment during our brief conversation this morning.’

‘Well…no,’ she conceded slowly, after a few seconds’ thought. ‘But that was the reason for our two earlier appointments.’

‘Two appointments which you didn’t ever have any intention of keeping.’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

Eva felt about two inches tall as she realised she had behaved like an idiot. But it had just been so tempting, when she had received the call the previous week from Markos Lyonedes’s secretary, asking if she would come to his office to discuss the possibility of redesigning the interior of his apartment. Tempting to accept and then cancel as a small way of showing him that not every woman jumped at the click of his fingers.

She should have realised—given more consideration to the repercussions of her behaviour if the powerful Markos Lyonedes decided to make an issue of it.

Her gaze didn’t quite meet his now. ‘I really did have to be somewhere else on Monday evening.’

‘And Friday?’ He quirked dark brows. ‘Did you really have an emergency appointment with your dentist?’

‘Er—yes.’

Markos eyed her warily. ‘Would you care to explain?’

She grimaced. ‘Perhaps when I introduced the two of you on Saturday evening I should have mentioned that Glen is a dentist.’

His mouth thinned. ‘I see.’

She winced. ‘Do you…?’

‘Oh, I think so.’ Markos nodded slowly, his interest well and truly piqued by the woman now standing in front of him. More than piqued, if he were honest. Markos had no idea why it should be, but he found everything about Eva Grey intriguing. From her lippy conversation to her desirable hourglass figure. ‘You obviously felt an urgent need to have a cavity filled.’

Those golden eyes widened in blank shock, her cheeks filling with colour as she gasped her indignation.

Now it was Markos’s turn to chuckle at Eva’s expense. And for that chuckle to develop into full-throated laughter as he saw that he really had succeeded in rendering this complicated woman speechless. ‘My God, Eva, you should see your face!’ he finally managed through his laughter. ‘Or maybe not; you look a little like a fish out of water at the moment.’

Probably because Eva felt like a fish out of water at that moment. Mouth opening and shutting, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she gasped for breath, her eyes wide and staring. ‘I can’t believe you just said that!’

‘Actually, neither can I.’ He sobered. ‘My Aunt Karelia would consider my conversation most ungentlemanly. Unfortunately for you, I’m more than happy to risk her disapproval if I’ve succeeded in rendering you speechless for once!’

‘Really?’

‘Really,’ Markos confirmed teasingly, aware that Eva was still having trouble regaining her usual spiky confidence.

She gave a disbelieving shake of her head. ‘Your Aunt Karelia would be perfectly correct in her assessment of your behaviour just now.’

‘She usually is,’ he acknowledged ruefully.

A frown appeared between those golden eyes. ‘Who is your Aunt Karelia, exactly? And why does her opinion matter to you?’

Markos gave an affectionate smile. ‘My cousin Drakon’s mother. She’s also been a mother to me since I was eight years old—after I went to live with her and my Uncle Theo when my parents were killed in a plane crash.’

Eva drew her breath in sharply as she heard the pain underlying the practicality of Markos’s tone. She hadn’t known that about him—hadn’t cared to know that about him—and she frowned slightly as she acknowledged that his confiding that information to her had introduced a different sort of intimacy between the two of them from their previous physical awareness, which had seemed to sizzle and crackle in the air only minutes ago. An intimacy that was emotional rather than physical.

‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ she murmured finally.

‘Thank you,’ he accepted gruffly.

Eva shifted uncomfortably. ‘Did you like living with your cousin and his parents?’

His grin warmed his eyes to the colour of emeralds. ‘Eventually. I was pretty traumatised the first year or so, and probably gave my Aunt Karelia a few grey hairs. But eventually I settled down, and I really couldn’t have asked for a better surrogate family.’

‘You and Drakon are close?’

‘As brothers,’ he confirmed without hesitation.

Eva raised dark brows. ‘I met him a couple of times when he was in New York. I didn’t find him a particularly warm man.’ Tall, dark and gorgeous, yes—just like his cousin Markos—but there was a single-minded ruthlessness to Drakon Lyonedes that he made no effort to hide.

Was it a trait his cousin also possessed…?

Probably, Eva concluded, remembering how Markos had changed on Saturday evening, his manner going from lazily charming to coolly precise, after she had made the comment concerning how he ended his relationships. In fact, apart from the heat of desire that glinted in Markos’s eyes when he looked at her—something that had certainly never been present on the two occasions when Eva had met the coldly remote Drakon Lyonedes—the cousins were very much alike: heart-stoppingly gorgeous and lethally powerful.

Markos’s grin widened. ‘That’s probably because you aren’t a blonde with sea-blue eyes named Gemini!’

‘Gemini is your cousin’s new wife?’

‘It’s been very much a case of “how the mighty are fallen”!’ Markos nodded. ‘One look at Gemini and Drakon was knocked off his feet.’





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