Книга - Defying Drakon

Defying Drakon
Carole Mortimer


Can he turn defiance into desire?Drakon Lyonedes has it all: power, wealth, sex appeal…and any woman he wants! Until the beautiful Gemini Bartholomew steps into his life, that is… Confronting him over his plan to turn her family home into a hotel, Gemini intrigues Drakon.The problem? Long-term just isn’t in this infamously arrogant tycoon’s vocabulary – and Gemini is a virgin who surely wants more than one night of sizzling, scorching passion…? She’s determined to defy him, but whose will-power will prove the strongest?










Gemini was very aware of Drakon standing beside her as they went down in the lift together. Of a return of that sexual tension that had occurred earlier when he had taken her in his arms—if it had ever gone away…

If she were honest with herself, she hadn’t really held out much hope of Drakon being receptive to her unusual offer to buy Bartholomew House from Lyonedes Enterprises when she’d agreed to have dinner with him this evening. She’d already known that as far as Lyonedes Enterprises was concerned it really wasn’t a very practical offer. So having him turn down that offer had come as no real surprise.

The physical awareness that had sprung so readily to life between them earlier and that was still so tangibly evident most definitely was…

‘What are you doing?’ Gemini gasped as the lights flickered and the lift came to a sudden halt between floors. Drakon had reached out and pressed one of the buttons on the panel before turning to look at her, his expression as dark and unreadable as his eyes as he looked down at her for several tension-filled seconds. ‘Drakon…?’


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.

This month…

Drakon Lyonedes is accustomed to

having any beauty he wants, but Gemini Bartholomew

proves a surprising challenge!

Coming Soon…

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:

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


Defying Drakon



Carole Mortimer
















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


My family. You know who you are!




CHAPTER ONE


‘WHO is she?’ Markos asked.

Drakon had telephoned down to his cousin Markos’s office just a few minutes ago, and was now in one of the many rooms of the penthouse apartment on the thirtieth floor of the Lyonedes Tower building in Central London, where Drakon stayed whenever he was visiting from the company’s New York offices. Markos, naturally, preferred to live away from the building where he worked every day.

Drakon’s full attention was focused speculatively on one of several security monitors in front of him as he watched the young woman on the monochrome screen pacing restlessly up and down the room she had been escorted to several minutes ago by Max Stanford, his Head of Security, after causing something of a disturbance in the reception area situated on the ground floor of the building.

She was a tall and willowy young woman, the dark blouse she wore—possibly black or brown—clinging to the outline of small pert breasts, while slim-fitting low-rider jeans revealed a tantalising glimpse of the flatness of her abdomen before curving lovingly over her bottom and the length of her legs. She was probably aged somewhere in her mid to late twenties, with just below shoulder-length straight hair—blonde? Her face was arrestingly beautiful: delicately heart-shaped and dominated by light-coloured eyes. Damn this black and white screen! She had a small straight nose and sensuously full lips.

He glanced at Markos as his cousin came to stand beside him. The family resemblance and their Greek nationality were more than obvious in their harshly sculptured olive-skinned features. Both men were dark-haired and over six feet tall, although at thirty-four Markos was two years Drakon’s junior.

‘I’m not sure,’ Drakon answered. ‘Max telephoned a few minutes ago and asked me what I wished him to do with her,’ he continued. ‘Apparently when he removed her from Reception she refused to tell him anything other than that her name is Bartholomew and she has no intention of leaving the building until she has spoken either to you or me—but preferably me,’ he added dryly.

Markos’s eyes widened. ‘Any relation to Miles Bartholomew, do you think?’

‘Could be his daughter.’ Drakon had met Miles Bartholomew several times before the other man’s death in a car crash six months ago, and there was a definite facial resemblance between him and the young woman they could see on the screen now. Although at sixty-two Miles’s hair had been silver, and his tall frame wiry rather than willowy and graceful.

‘What do you suppose she wants?’ Markos prompted curiously.

Drakon’s dark eyes narrowed on the impatiently pacing woman, his mouth thinning to an uncompromising line. ‘I have absolutely no idea. But I have every intention of finding out.’

Markos’s brows rose. ‘You intend talking to her yourself?’

Drakon gave a humourless smile at his cousin’s obvious surprise. ‘I have asked Max to bring her to me here in ten minutes’ time. It is to be hoped she will not have worn a hole in a very expensive carpet before then.’

Markos looked thoughtful. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea with our current connection to Bartholomew’s young and beautiful widow?’

Drakon deliberately turned his back on the screen. ‘Max’s alternative was to have her arrested for trespassing and/or disturbing the peace. A move at best guaranteed to bring unnecessary and unwanted publicity to Lyonedes Enterprises,’ he said, ‘and at worst to have an adverse effect on our relationship with Angela Bartholomew.’

‘True,’ his cousin conceded. ‘But isn’t it setting something of a precedent to give in to this type of emotional blackmail?’

Drakon arched arrogant dark brows. ‘You are expecting there to be more than one determined young woman in London at the moment who feels the need to stage a sit-in in the reception area of Lyonedes Enterprises until she has been allowed to talk to the company’s president?’

Markos gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘You’ve only been in England for two days—hardly long enough for you to have broken any female hearts as yet.’

Drakon’s expression remained impassive. ‘If, as you say, hearts have been broken in the past, then it has not been my doing; I have never made any secret of the fact that I have no interest in marrying at this time.’

‘If ever!’ His cousin snorted.

Drakon shrugged. ‘No doubt there will come a time when an heir becomes necessary.’

‘Just not yet?’

His mouth thinned. ‘No.’

Markos eyed him teasingly. ‘Miss Bartholomew seems to have piqued your interest…’

There were only two people in the world who would dare to speak to Drakon in this familiar way: his cousin and his widowed mother.

The two men had grown up together in the family home in Athens. Markos had come to live with his aunt and uncle and slightly older cousin after his parents were killed in a plane crash when he was eight years old. It was that closeness, and the fact that they were related by blood, which allowed the younger man certain freedoms of expression where Drakon was concerned. If anyone else but Markos had dared to make a comment on or question Drakon’s private life like that, he would very quickly have found himself on the other side of the door. After being suitably and icily chastened, of course.

‘I am…curious as to her reasons for coming here,’ he acknowledged slowly.

His cousin glanced towards the screen. ‘She’s certainly beautiful…’

‘Yes, she is,’ Drakon acknowledged tersely.

Markos shot him another sideways glance. ‘Maybe I could sit in on the meeting?’

‘I think not, Markos,’ he dismissed with dry humour. ‘Whatever Miss Bartholomew wishes to talk to me about, she has gone about it in a very unorthodox manner. I do not think the Vice-Chairman of Lyonedes Enterprises showing an admiring interest in her is going to suitably convey our displeasure at her behaviour!’

Markos gave an unrepentant grin. ‘Do you have to spoil all my fun?’

Drakon smiled in acknowledgement of his cousin’s roguish reputation with the ladies even as he glanced down at the plain gold watch secured about his wrist. ‘Thompson should be arriving shortly for his ten o’clock appointment. I will join the two of you in your office in ten minutes.’

The other man arched teasing brows. ‘Are you sure that will be long enough with the lovely Miss Bartholomew?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He nodded.

Drakon gave one last glance at the young woman on the screen before striding through to the sitting room of the spacious apartment to stand in front of one of the huge picture windows that looked out over the London morning skyline, hearing his cousin leaving the penthouse a few seconds later as his own brooding thoughts continued to dwell on the impudent Miss Bartholomew.

He had taken over as head of the Lyonedes family business empire on the death of his father ten years ago, and now, aged thirty-six, Drakon knew he was rarely surprised by anything anyone did or said—and was certainly never intimidated by their actions. He was the one whose very presence invariably intimidated others; never the other way about.

And whatever reason Miss Bartholomew felt she had for her unacceptable behaviour, she would very shortly be made aware of that fact…

Gemini stopped pacing and turned to frown at the middle-aged man who had earlier introduced himself only as Head of Security for Lyonedes Enterprises as he finally returned to the elegantly furnished room he had made her prison fifteen minutes ago, before abandoning her there and locking the door behind him as he left.

No doubt he had gone off to take instruction from Markos Lyonedes as to what was the best thing to do with her—or maybe he hadn’t bothered with that and had just telephoned the police to have her arrested! She doubted the visiting totally elusive Drakon Lyonedes, President of Lyonedes Enterprises, would even be informed of something so trivial as a young woman refusing to leave the building until she was allowed to speak to him.

Gemini had every reason to know just how elusive he was. She had desperately tried repeatedly to make an appointment to speak to the man since she’d learnt of his arrival in England two days ago. But as she had remained stubbornly unwilling to give her reasons as to why she wanted the appointment, her request had been politely but firmly refused by Markos Lyonedes’s secretary.

Oh, she had been invited to send in her C.V. to the personnel manager—as if she would ever want to work for a circling shark like Drakon Lyonedes!—but had been refused an appointment with him or his cousin, who was Vice-Chairman of the company in charge of the London-based offices. Leaving her with no alternative, Gemini had finally decided determinedly, than to stage a sit-in in the ground floor reception area of Lyonedes Tower.

Only to be firmly removed within minutes of her arrival and locked in a room pending dispatch!

‘Let’s go.’ The tough-looking Head of Security, dressed all in black, his grey hair shaved to a crewcut, stepped back in order to allow her to precede him out of the room. He was probably ex-military.

‘I expected handcuffs at the very least!’ she drawled as she strolled past him into the marble hallway.

He arched iron-grey brows. ‘What exactly did you have in mind?’

Was that amusement she saw in those hard blue eyes? No, surely not! ‘Nothing like that, I assure you,’ Gemini said dryly.

‘That’s what I thought.’ He nodded as he took a vice-like grip of her arm. ‘And handcuffs wouldn’t look good in front of the other visitors.’

That remark might have been funny if the man hadn’t looked so deadly serious when he made it! ‘Where are you taking me?’ she prompted with a frown, having tried to resist that steely hold and only succeeded in bruising her arm as the now grim-faced man all but frogmarched her down a long and silent hallway towards the back of the building. ‘I asked—’

‘I heard you.’ He came to a halt beside a lift before deftly punching a security code into the lit keypad.

He’d heard her, but obviously had no intention of satisfying her curiosity. ‘I’m sure this building is far too modern to have a dungeon,’ she commented.

‘But it does have a basement.’ He shot her a narrow-eyed glance as the lift doors opened, and he pulled her in beside him before pressing one of the buttons.

The movement was made altogether too fast for Gemini to be able to see which button he had pressed before the doors closed behind them and the lift began to move. Down? Or up? Whichever it was, the lift was moving so fast her stomach seemed literally to somersault! Or maybe that was just her slightly shredded nerves? She hadn’t particularly enjoyed coming to Lyonedes Tower this morning and making such a nuisance of herself, and the dangerous-looking man standing so still and silent beside her certainly didn’t inspire confidence as to her future wellbeing!

Maybe trying to force a meeting between herself and either Markos or Drakon Lyonedes hadn’t been such a good idea after all?

It had seemed perfectly logical and straightforward when Gemini had considered her options earlier that morning, as she sat in the kitchen of her apartment. But here and now, on her way to goodness’ knew where, with a hatchet-faced man who looked as if he was more than capable of killing with his bare hands, it seemed far less so.

It was all Drakon Lyonedes’s fault, of course. If the man didn’t make it so impossible for people to see or speak with him then there would be no reason for her to resort to such drastic measures as she had this morning. As it was…

Her chin rose defensively as she chanced a glance at the grimly silent man standing beside her. ‘Kidnapping is a serious offence, you know.’

‘So is making a public nuisance of yourself,’ he came back remorselessly.

‘Lyonedes Tower isn’t exactly public!’

‘Keep telling yourself that, love.’ Once again she thought she caught a glimpse of humour in those steely blue eyes, before it quickly dissipated and only the steel remained.

‘There’s nowhere for me to escape to, stuck in this lift, so it’s probably safe to let go of my arm now—’ She broke off abruptly as the lift came to a gliding halt and the doors slid silently open in front of her.

Not into a basement. Or a dungeon. But into the unlikeliest-looking office Gemini had ever seen…

Probably because it wasn’t an office, she realised as Mr Grim pulled her with him into a huge and elegant sitting room. The thick-pile carpet beneath her booted feet was a rich cream colour, and several brown leather armchairs and a huge matching L-shaped sofa were placed near the marble fireplace. Occasional tables bore vases of cream roses, and a matching cream piano stood in one corner of the room, a bar area in another. She easily recognised some of the numerous paintings on the cream walls as being priceless works of art by long-dead artists, and the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the wall directly in front of her displayed an amazing view of the London skyline.

So—definitely not the basement, then!

‘I will ring you when it is time for Miss Bartholomew to leave, Max.’

‘Sir.’

Gemini only vaguely registered the Head of Security as he stepped silently back into the lift and departed. She turned sharply to locate the owner of that deep and authoritative voice, her eyes widening in shock as she saw the man silhouetted in front of a second wall of windows, instantly knowing she was looking at the tall, powerful, olive-skinned Drakon Lyonedes himself.

It was perfectly obvious that he was far from pleased. The expression on his handsome face was even grimmer than the one on his Head of Security’s.

Drakon Lyonedes was over six feet tall, with wide shoulders, a powerful chest, and long legs clearly defined in a tailored and obviously expensive charcoal-grey suit worn over a white silk shirt and pale grey tie. His dark hair was cut ruthlessly short, and piercing coal-black eyes were set in a face that looked as if it had been hewn from granite. None of the rare photographs of Drakon Lyonedes that had very occasionally appeared in the newspapers over the years had even begun to scratch the surface of the aura of power that surrounded him like an invisible cloak.

Not just power, Gemini realised as an icy shiver ran the length of her spine, but danger—like that of a deadly predator waiting to pounce on its prey.

A powerful and deadly predator who now had her firmly fixed in his sights!

Drakon’s expression remained unreadable as he took in the colour version of the determined Miss Bartholomew. The straight, shoulder-length hair he had thought might be a pale blonde was in fact an unusual white-gold—the same colour as the long stretches of sandy beach that surrounded his private island off the coast of Greece. Her complexion was the palest ivory, and a perfect background for her eyes, which he could now see were the same deep aquamarine colour as the warm Aegean Sea, and shielded by thick dark lashes. Her full and sensuous lips were an unglossed and natural rose.

In fact she did not appear to be wearing any make-up at all, which was most unusual in his experience…

‘Mr Lyonedes, I presume?’ she enquired softly, moving with a natural grace as she stepped further into the private sitting room of the penthouse apartment.

‘Miss Bartholomew.’ Drakon remained unsmiling in response to what had obviously been an attempt at humour on her part. ‘Max informs me that you have been most…insistent in your desire to speak with me.’

‘Does he?’ She continued to stare at him with those aquamarine eyes.

‘Sitting on the floor of the reception area and refusing to move till you had either spoken to myself or my cousin would appear to be an act of determination, yes,’ he pointed out.

‘Oh, yes. That.’ Gemini grimaced as she tried to gather her scrambled thoughts together—a situation she readily admitted had been brought about by this man’s totally overpowering presence! ‘Max soon took care of that for you, though,’ she said, remembering the ease with which the security man had placed his hands beneath her elbows and just lifted her up from the floor and out of the reception area to that secure room.

Dark brows rose. ‘You are on a first-name basis with my Head of Security?’

‘I think it’s fair to say I’m on an only name basis with him—he didn’t introduce himself to me earlier, so I know him by the name you just called him.’ She shrugged. ‘And I wouldn’t have needed to be quite so determined if you’d made yourself more accessible,’ she said lightly. After all, she could afford to be a little more amenable now that she was actually in the presence of the man himself.

‘And why would I wish to do that?’ He seemed genuinely baffled by her statement.

‘Because—Oh, never mind.’ Gemini gave a dismissive shake of her head.

Drakon noticed how the movement caused that cascade of white-gold hair to be caught in the sun’s rays, and found himself wondering if the colour was natural or from a bottle. Only to add an inner admonishment for allowing even that small personal interest to creep into this meeting. ‘You do realise that causing a nuisance of yourself on private property is—’

‘A serious offence,’ she finished heavily. ‘Yes, your Head of Security has already made it more than clear that you would have been quite within your rights to call the police and have me arrested rather than agree to see me.’

Drakon gave a hard and humourless smile. ‘Oh, believe me, that possibility has not yet been dismissed.’

‘Oh.’ Uncertainty briefly flickered in her eyes as she drew herself up to her full height of possibly five feet ten inches in the two-inch-heeled boots she was wearing. The shirt that fitted so flatteringly over her breasts and the flatness of her abdomen was black in colour, the jeans that clung to that enticingly curvaceous bottom a light blue. ‘I only did what I did because I so badly needed to talk to you—’

‘Would you care for coffee?’

She blinked. ‘What?’

‘Coffee?’ Drakon indicated the bar area, where a full pot of coffee had been brought up to him earlier and left on the black marble surface along with several black mugs.

‘Is it decaf?’

He raised dark brows. ‘I think possibly Brazilian, as that is my preferred blend…’

‘Then, no, thank you,’ she refused politely. ‘Unless it’s decaffeinated most coffees give me a migraine.’

‘Would you like me to send down for some that is decaffeinated?’

‘No, really. I’m fine.’ She smiled.

Drakon had absolutely no idea why he had even made the offer; the sooner the two of them talked and she departed, the better! ‘You do not mind if I do?’ He didn’t wait for her reply before walking over to the bar and pouring a cup of the steaming and aromatic brew, lifting the unsweetened liquid to his lips and slowly taking a sip as he used the respite in conversation to study her over the rim of the mug.

If, as he thought, this young woman was the daughter of Miles Bartholomew and the stepdaughter of Angela Bartholomew, then she did not appear or behave at all as one might have expected of the only child of a multimillionaire industrialist. Her clothing was as casual as that of any of the dozens of young women Drakon had seen as he was driven from the airport into central London two days ago, her unusually coloured hair was styled simply in straight layers and—as he had already noted—the fragile loveliness of her face appeared bare of make-up. Her fingernails were short and unvarnished on long and elegant hands, and she raised one to flick a wayward strand of that long white-gold hair over her shoulder.

The appearance of Miles Bartholomew’s daughter—if this was she—was indeed unexpected. Her familiar manner towards Drakon—with a complete lack of the awe with which he was usually treated!—was even more so…

He placed the black mug carefully back on the bar beside him before walking softly, unhurriedly, across the room until he stood only inches away from her. Their gazes were almost on a level as she stood only three or four inches shorter than his own six feet and two inches in height.

‘We appear to have omitted to introduce ourselves. As you have already guessed, I am Drakon Lyonedes. And you are…?’

‘Gemini,’ she blurted out. ‘Er—Gemini Bartholomew. I’m Miles Bartholomew’s daughter.’ She thrust out a hand, her cheeks having become coloured the same beguiling rose as the fullness of her lips.

Gemini…

Drakon inwardly appreciated how well that name suited her as he took the slenderness of her hand in his much larger one. The name was as unusual and beautiful as this young woman was herself…

‘And what is it you believe that only I can do for you, Miss Bartholomew?’

Gemini felt a quiver of awareness travel the length of her spine as Drakon Lyonedes continued to hold her hand captive in his much stronger one. His skin was cool to the touch, but at the same time the huskiness of his voice seemed to wash over her senses with the warmth of a lingering caress.

Surely she must have imagined that double entendre in his question?

Even the thought that she might not have done was enough to make her aware of the fact that not only was she not prepared for the sheer physical presence of the head of Lyonedes Enterprises, but she hadn’t even begun to guess—couldn’t possibly have imagined!—the rawness of the overwhelming sexuality he exuded.

It was a raw sexuality Gemini would have preferred not to have even recognised, let alone responded to, when she had every reason to suspect that he was currently involved in an affair with the stepmother she disliked so intensely…




CHAPTER TWO


JUST the thought of her stepmother was enough to make Gemini pull her hand abruptly from Drakon’s—no doubt his hand had touched the detested Angela in ways Gemini didn’t even want to begin to imagine!

With an inward shudder she thrust her hand firmly behind her back before taking a determined step away from him. ‘There’s only one thing you can do for me, Mr Lyonedes,’ she assured him flatly. ‘And that is to withdraw the offer you’ve made to purchase Bartholomew House from my father’s widow!’

Drakon studied Gemini Bartholomew from beneath narrowed lids, noting the wings of colour that had appeared in those ivory cheeks, and the over-bright glitter of emotion now visible in her beautiful sea-green eyes as she glared at him. ‘And why, when the sale is due to be completed in only two weeks’ time, would you imagine I might wish to do that, Miss Bartholomew?’ he said slowly.

A pained frown appeared between those long-lashed aquamarine eyes. ‘Because it isn’t hers to sell, of course. To you or anyone else!’

‘I believe my legal department have checked all the necessary paperwork and are completely satisfied with their results,’ Drakon assured her smoothly, no longer completely sure what or who he was dealing with. He certainly had no one else’s word but hers that she was who she claimed to be.

From all accounts her behaviour had been less than rational ever since she’d entered the building, and the claim she had just made, along with that slightly wild glitter in those stunning Aegean-coloured eyes, would seem to imply a certain wobble in her emotional balance. Perhaps, after all, he should have heeded Markos’s advice and not agreed to meet privately with this unusual young woman?

‘I’m sure that they were.’ She now gave an impatient shake of that white-gold head. ‘When I said Bartholomew House wasn’t Angela’s to sell, I meant morally rather than legally.’

The tension in Drakon’s shoulders relaxed slightly. ‘I see,’ he murmured.

Somehow Gemini doubted that!

And she didn’t care for the way in which Drakon was now regarding her so sceptically with those piercing coal-black eyes of his from between narrowed lids.

No doubt he already thought she was slightly deranged after her behaviour in the reception area, without her now claiming that Bartholomew House wasn’t Angela’s to sell, and then admitting that it was! Except it wasn’t. How could it be, when Bartholomew House in London had been owned by a Bartholomew since—well, for ever? And Angela wasn’t really a Bartholomew. The other woman had been the second wife of Gemini’s father, and only married to him for three years before his death six months ago—how could Angela possibly begin to understand the sense of tradition, of belonging, that a Bartholomew living in Bartholomew House had given to her family for hundreds of years?

As Gemini knew only too well, it wasn’t a question of her stepmother not understanding those things; Angela didn’t want to understand them, and had made it more than clear these past few months that as she was Miles’s widow the house was legally hers. As such, she could do whatever she wanted with it. And if that involved selling Bartholomew House to Lyonedes Enterprises, to the powerful, mega-wealthy man she had implied was her lover, then that was exactly what Angela intended to do!

Gemini scowled her complete frustration with the situation. ‘I realise that you and Angela are…involved, but—’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Drakon raised an arrogant dark brow.

‘Oh, don’t worry.’ She waved a placatory hand at his frowning countenance. ‘I don’t consider your having a relationship with my stepmother so soon after my father’s death as being any of my business.’

‘If that’s true it’s very…magnanimous of you,’ Drakon said slowly.

‘Oh, it’s true,’ Gemini assured him—even if, now that she had met him, she couldn’t help but wonder how such a powerful and charismatic man could possibly find a woman like Angela attractive.

Her father at least had had the excuse of deep feelings of loneliness after the death of Gemini’s mother just a year before he and Angela had been introduced, as well as being deeply flattered by the attentions of a beautiful woman over twenty-five years his junior. But Drakon Lyonedes was as rich as Croesus, for goodness’ sake, and as handsome and powerful as any of his Greek gods. As such, he could surely have any woman he wanted. So why would he bother with a mercenary like Angela? There really was no accounting for a man’s taste!

‘Please continue,’ Drakon invited coolly.

‘I’m not sure that I should,’ she said, suddenly wary.

He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘You obviously disapproved of your father’s second marriage…?’

‘No, that wasn’t it.’ Having started this conversation, Gemini now felt uncomfortable revealing too much of her family history to a man she had, after all, only just met. Especially as, if Angela was to be believed, that man was involved with her. ‘I just thought perhaps my father should have waited a little longer before remarrying. He was feeling pretty low when he and Angela met—my mother had died the previous year, after thirty years of marriage, and he was desperately lonely.’ She shrugged. ‘It seemed to me to be a typical on-the-rebound thing.’

‘But your father did not agree?’

Gemini winced. ‘He had been incredibly unhappy since my mother died, and he seemed so happy with Angela that I just didn’t have the heart to voice any of my doubts to him.’

‘You loved him very much?’

‘Very much,’ she confirmed gruffly.

‘So he and Angela married despite your misgivings?’

She nodded. ‘I just wanted him to be happy again. I’d tried my best to fill the gap that she left, but no matter how close we were it really isn’t possible for a daughter to take the place of a life-mate,’ she added sadly.

A life-mate…

Having witnessed his own parents’ long and happy marriage, Drakon was not unfamiliar with the concept; he had just never heard it described in quite those terms before.

In retrospect, it was a fitting way to describe the closeness that had existed between his own parents—their marriage had been one of friendship and trust as much as love. A love that had encompassed both their ‘sons’, and which now caused his long-widowed mother to resort to constant lectures on the wonderful state of matrimony whenever he or Markos visited her at her home in Athens and she encouraged at least one of them to marry and give her the grandchildren she so dearly longed for. Unfortunately neither Markos nor Drakon had found a woman they could even contemplate spending the rest of their lives with, let alone be that elusive ‘life-mate’ Gemini Bartholomew had referred to.

As a child Drakon had just assumed that everyone’s parents were as happily married as his own, that their deep love and friendship for each other was the norm. In his teens and twenties, as the Lyonedes heirs, Drakon and Markos had enjoyed dating and bedding a variety of beautiful women, with no thought of falling in love and marrying. It had taken Drakon years to realise that he hadn’t felt even the beginnings of love for any of those women—that in fact the type of love his parents had for each other was the exception rather than the norm.

Now, at the age of thirty-six, Drakon believed himself to be too hardened and cynical ever to welcome that emotional vulnerability into his life. Even if he was lucky enough to find it.

‘You and your father were close?’ he prompted softly.

‘Very.’ Tears flooded those sea-green eyes.

‘I did not mean to upset you—’

‘It’s okay,’ she assured him gruffly. ‘I just—I still miss him so much.’

Drakon shifted uncomfortably. ‘Are you sure I cannot get you something to drink?’

‘No. Really. I’ll be fine.’ She blinked back those tears as she continued determinedly, ‘Things changed between us—became…difficult once Daddy was married to Angela.’

‘He was unhappy in the marriage?’

She had already revealed more to this man than she had intended doing; there was absolutely no reason for him to know of the disillusionment that had set in within months of her father’s second marriage. ‘I’m sure I’ve already bored you with enough family details for one day, Mr Lyonedes,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ve only told you the things I have in an effort to help you to understand the…the awkwardness, of this situation.’

He nodded briskly, obviously accepting her explanation. ‘What I fail to understand is what you think I can do about any of it.’

Unfortunately, now that Gemini was confronted with the man himself, she was wondering the same thing! Sitting at home in her apartment, going over the conversation she wanted to have with Drakon Lyonedes, it had all seemed so much simpler than it was in reality. And the fact that the man was so completely and disconcertingly handsome wasn’t helping the situation.

Nor was the fact that, in spite of knowing he was intimately involved with the despised Angela, Gemini actually found herself appreciating those tall, dark and dangerous good looks…

How much greater would that appreciation be if she didn’t know he was involved with Angela? Gemini dreaded to think!

She nervously moistened the dryness of her lips with the tip of her tongue before speaking. ‘As I’ve said, I would like you to withdraw your offer for Bartholomew House.’

‘Which, unless I have misunderstood the situation, would not seem to be any of your concern. It was Angela Bartholomew who inherited the house on your father’s death and not you,’ Drakon pointed out.

‘But she shouldn’t have done,’ Gemini insisted. ‘Daddy assured me only weeks before he died that he intended making a new will—one that would clearly state that Bartholomew House was to come to me when he died.’

‘Something he obviously failed to do before his unexpected death.’

She gave a pained wince. ‘Well…yes.’

‘He left you nothing?’

Gemini didn’t particularly care for the censure she could hear in Drakon’s tone. ‘I wouldn’t call the cherished memories of the love and caring he always had for me nothing!’

That sculptured mouth thinned. ‘As I am sure you are well aware, I was talking of what you English refer to as “bricks and mortar”.’

‘It wasn’t necessary. My parents set up a substantial trust fund for me years ago,’ she dismissed stiffly. ‘But, as I’ve said, my father assured me that it was his intention to ensure that Bartholomew House came to me after…after his death.’

‘Unfortunately we only have your word for that.’

‘I am not in the habit of lying, Mr Lyonedes!’

‘I was not suggesting that you are.’ Drakon sighed his irritation, both with this conversation and his feelings of discomfort at her obvious distress at her father’s recent demise and the loss of her family home. ‘Only that perhaps you should be discussing all these things with your father’s lawyers rather than with me.’

‘I already have,’ she admitted heavily.

‘And…?’

She sighed. ‘And they acknowledge that my father informed them only weeks before he died that he was in the process of writing a new will.’

Drakon gaze sharpened. ‘But he failed to present this will to them?’

‘It would appear so,’ she confirmed shakily. ‘As such, they agree with you. In the absence of this new will, clearly stating that Bartholomew House was to be separate from all my father’s other properties, then Angela is entitled to it as well.’

‘It is not a case of my agreeing or disagreeing,’ Drakon stated. ‘The law is simply the law—no matter what may have been stated verbally. Besides which,’ he continued firmly as she would have interrupted, ‘if I were to withdraw my own offer for the house and land I have no doubts that your stepmother would simply find another buyer.’

‘I realise that—which is why I’ve come up with another proposal. If you are agreeable, that is?’ Those sea-green eyes had brightened excitedly.

Drakon closed his own eyes briefly, before opening them once again to study Gemini from beneath lowered lashes.

From the things she had just revealed to him concerning the Bartholomew family, she was perhaps exactly who she claimed to be. Nevertheless, as she’d come here today with the sole intention of persuading him to stop his company’s purchase of Bartholomew House, Drakon somehow doubted this ‘proposal’ would be any less irregular!

‘Of course you would have to agree not to tell Angela anything about it for now,’ she added worriedly. ‘Otherwise I know she would do everything in her power to prevent it—to the point of withdrawing from the sale of Bartholomew House to Lyonedes Enterprises.’

Drakon’s mouth thinned. ‘Not without incurring a severe financial penalty for reneging on our present arrangement.’

‘That’s something, at least,’ she breathed shakily.

‘Miss Bartholomew—’

‘Please call me Gemini,’ she invited softly.

‘Gemini,’ Drakon agreed abruptly, although just voicing that unusual name seemed to add a level of intimacy to this already unusual situation that he wasn’t sure he felt altogether comfortable with. ‘You are obviously under a misapprehension concerning my—’ He broke off as he saw Markos reappear at the top of the private spiral staircase leading directly from the offices below.

Gemini frowned as she sensed that his attention was no longer on her but directed somewhere behind her. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned and found herself looking at a dark and handsome man so similar in looks to Drakon Lyonedes that he surely had to be related to him. No doubt this was Markos Lyonedes, Drakon’s cousin.

Whoever he was, Gemini dearly wished he had waited just a few minutes more before making his appearance!

‘Sorry to interrupt, Drakon.’ The man’s deep green gaze was fixed curiously on Gemini even as he spoke to his cousin. ‘I expected you to join me in my office some time ago.’

Drakon looked down frowningly at his slender gold wristwatch, surprised to see that he had been talking with Gemini for almost half an hour rather than the ten minutes he had originally thought necessary before dismissing her. Incredible!

‘I believe Miss Bartholomew has said what she wished to say…?’ He turned to give her a pointed glance.

Instead of taking that as the invitation to leave Drakon intended it to be, she turned and walked gracefully across the room to where Markos stood at the top of the staircase. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Mr Lyonedes.’ She smiled warmly as she thrust out her hand.

Markos briefly raised dark and questioning brows in Drakon’s direction before turning to take her slender hand in his own. ‘I assure you the pleasure is all mine, Miss Bartholomew.’ Markos’s voice had become dark and smoky.

‘Gemini,’ she invited lightly.

‘Markos,’ he returned warmly.

Her smile widened. ‘I apologise if I’ve made your cousin late for an important business meeting.’

‘Not at all.’ Markos’s gaze darkened appreciatively as he continued to hold onto that slender hand and looked down into the pale beauty of her face. ‘In Drakon’s place I wouldn’t have been in any hurry to leave you in order to attend a boring business meeting either.’

Drakon found himself suddenly deeply irritated by the obvious flirtation taking place in front of him, and became even more annoyed as Gemini gave a husky and appreciative laugh before deftly extricating her hand from Markos’s. ‘I will join you downstairs in a moment, Markos,’ he bit out harshly.

His cousin gave him an amused glance. ‘I would be more than happy to stay here and keep Gemini company until you return from talking with Bob Thompson.’

Drakon’s mouth thinned. ‘That will not be necessary. Miss Bartholomew and I will be meeting for dinner this evening in order to conclude our conversation.’

Wide and startled sea-green eyes turned sharply in his direction. ‘We will?’

Drakon bit back his inner frustration, having no idea why he had even made such a statement. Except he had not liked the idea of Markos remaining alone here with Gemini any more than he had appreciated the way in which his cousin had held on to her hand for far longer than was necessary or polite…

Implying what, exactly?

This woman had forced her way into his presence today by making a damned nuisance of herself, before making several surprising statements—including one concerning Drakon’s relationship with her stepmother. And as a reward for that unacceptable behaviour he was now inviting her out to dinner?

No, he had not invited her out to dinner. He had told her the two of them would be having dinner together this evening in order to finish this conversation. Not the same thing at all…

‘We will,’ Drakon stated flatly. ‘I will send a car to Bartholomew House to collect you at seven-thirty this evening.’

‘I haven’t lived at Bartholomew House for years.’ Her nose wrinkled ruefully. ‘I’m afraid Angela cornered me several months after she and Daddy were married and asked me to leave,’ she explained with a grimace.

Drakon scowled darkly, liking the situation between the two Bartholomew women less and less the more he learnt of it.

Admittedly, as the second wife of Miles Bartholomew, Angela had been perfectly within her rights to ask her stepdaughter to find somewhere else to live—especially as Gemini must have been twenty-four or five at the time—but morally…

But as he had already assured Gemini once today, unfortunately morality often had very little to do with anything!

‘Then you will give your current address to the receptionist downstairs when you leave so that the car can be directed there,’ he ordered.

‘I’ll go down to Reception with Gemini,’ Markos offered.

Drakon shot his cousin a narrow-eyed glance as he once again sensed Markos’s interest in this ethereally beautiful young woman. ‘I am sure Miss Bartholomew, having already managed to force herself into my presence today, is more than capable of taking herself down in the lift,’ he drawled dismissively, feeling an inner satisfaction as he saw the guilty flush that instantly warmed Gemini’s cheeks.

Markos gave an amused smile. ‘I’m sure she is too. But wouldn’t it be better if one of us were to ensure she has actually left the building?’

The blush deepened in Gemini’s cheeks. ‘I resent the implication that I’m some sort of criminal who needs escorting from the premises!’ she defended irritably.

‘Forgive me if I inadvertently gave that impression,’ Markos apologised.

She nodded. ‘I only behaved in the way that I did earlier because I needed to speak to your cousin on a—a personal matter, and it seemed to be the only way to achieve that.’

Drakon now sensed Markos’s speculative green gaze on him, aware that after their earlier conversation his cousin no doubt now believed that ‘personal matter’ was something totally other than what it actually was. ‘Escort the lady downstairs by all means, Markos,’ he said as he strolled across the room to join them. ‘Until later this evening, Gemini,’ he added huskily, before turning to descend the spiral staircase without so much as a backward glance.

‘Do I have a smudge of dirt on my nose or something?’ Gemini shot a puzzled frown at the man standing beside her in the lift as she sensed his silent appraisal.

‘Not at all.’ Markos shook his head. ‘It’s just—Drakon has never mentioned knowing you before today.’

Her brows rose. ‘That’s probably because he didn’t know me before today!’

‘No?’

‘Mr Lyonedes—’

‘Markos,’ he reminded her smoothly.

Oh, he was a charmer, this one, Gemini acknowledged ruefully—but she had no doubt that there was a will of steel every bit as forceful as his cousin’s beneath that outer charm. ‘Why don’t you just say what you have to say, Markos?’ she invited.

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘I am merely curious as to your reason for coming here today.’

Gemini smiled. ‘There’s really nothing for you to be curious about.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ she stated firmly.

‘But I am correct in assuming you are Miles Bartholomew’s daughter?’

Gemini tensed warily. ‘Yes…’

Markos pursed his lips. ‘As I thought.’

And he was no doubt thinking a lot of other things if he was aware of his cousin’s very personal relationship with Gemini’s stepmother!

If Angela were to learn that she was having dinner with Drakon this evening, it would no doubt result in her stepmother throwing one of her temper tantrums. But that was Drakon’s problem, not Gemini’s; there really was nothing more Angela could do to her that she hadn’t already done!

‘Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Markos.’ Gemini’s smile was now brightly non-committal, and she stepped out of the lift as soon as the doors opened onto the ground floor. ‘I’ll be sure and leave my address with the receptionist on my way out.’

Thankfully Markos took that for the dismissal it was meant to be and remained standing inside the private lift. ‘I hope you enjoy your dinner with Drakon this evening.’ He nodded his farewell, amusement still dancing in those deep green eyes as the lift doors slowly closed.

Whether that amusement was directed at Gemini or his cousin, she wasn’t sure…




CHAPTER THREE


‘I HAD assumed when you suggested we have dinner together this evening that I would be meeting you at a restaurant.’

Drakon’s expression remained unreadable as he stood outside the darkened Lyonedes Tower building and watched Gemini climb out of the back of the silver limousine. The black knee-length dress she wore left her arms and shoulders bare, with a tantalising glimpse of the fullness of her breasts above the scooped neckline, and was a perfect foil for that white-gold hair which fell straight and gleaming about her slender shoulders as she straightened. Blusher added colour to her cheeks this evening, and a pale peach glossed the fullness of her lips. She looked breathtakingly beautiful!

He nodded a curt dismissal of the driver, waiting until the other man had climbed back behind the wheel and driven away before turning back to Gemini. ‘You have some objection to us dining here at the apartment?’

Gemini didn’t have an objection per se. It just didn’t seem exactly…businesslike for her to dine with Drakon Lyonedes in the intimacy of that amazing apartment with its magnificent—romantic?—views over London. Even if he was once again dressed formally in one of those expensively tailored dark suits—charcoal-grey this time—with another white silk shirt, and a pale blue silk tie meticulously knotted at his throat. That square chin was freshly shaven, and the darkness of his hair appeared slightly damp. As if he had just stood naked beneath the shower—

Imagining Drakon naked in the shower was so not a good idea when she was already completely aware of him!

He raised dark brows at her lack of reply. ‘This is a business discussion, after all, is it not?’

Well, when he put it like that…‘Of course,’ Gemini affirmed gratefully, falling into step beside him as they entered the eerily silent and only semi-illuminated building.

They walked over to the lift, the slender three-inch heels on her strappy sandals sounding over-loud in that unnatural silence. She felt their complete aloneness even more once they had stepped inside the private lift to be whisked silently up to the top floor of the building.

‘It really is very good of you to agree to talk to me again so soon.’ Gemini rushed into awkward speech in an effort to quell her increasing nervousness as she gripped her slender black evening bag tightly in front of her.

Not that she was normally the nervous type. Far from it. She was usually pretty outgoing. But there was just something so broodingly intense about the man standing beside her…

Drakon gave a tight and humourless smile. ‘After your less than orthodox behaviour earlier today, you mean?’

A delicate blush warmed her cheeks. ‘Yes.’

He nodded. ‘There are certain aspects of our conversation earlier that are…incomplete.’

She blinked up at him. ‘There are?’

‘Oh, yes,’ he said grimly.

Gemini brightened. ‘Of course—I hadn’t finished telling you about my proposal!’

‘That too,’ he acknowledged.

Too? What other part of their conversation earlier today had been left ‘incomplete’?

Gemini had no more time to dwell on that question as the lift doors opened and Drakon stepped back to allow her to precede him into the sitting room of his apartment. The sitting room seemed much more intimate this evening, illuminated only by four lamps placed about the room, and the glittering London skyline stretched enchantingly in the distance through those floor-to-ceiling windows. A small round table was intimately laid for two in front of one of them, tableware and glasses gleaming, three cream candles in the silver candelabra as yet unlit…

‘Would you care for a glass of wine?’

Gemini dragged her gaze away from the intimacy of those place-settings to look across at Drakon as he stood by the bar, his face appearing more harshly brooding in the dimmed lighting. ‘I—yes, thank you,’ she accepted, placing her bag down on the arm of a chair. ‘White, if you have it.’

Drakon smiled slightly to himself as he turned away to open and then pour the wine, sensing Gemini’s discomfort as she continued to stand in the middle of the room. ‘Was the rest of your day pleasant?’ he murmured softly as he crossed the room to hand her one of the two glasses of fruity white wine.

She gave him a startled look as she slowly reached out and took the glass he held out to her. ‘Er—busy. As usual.’

‘Busy in what way?’ Those black eyes studied her over the rim of his glass as he sipped the perfectly chilled wine.

Gemini had hardly expected to be discussing what sort of day she’d had when she next saw Drakon! Almost as if they were out on a real date. Which was utterly ridiculous! Not that she was dating anyone at the moment, her last brief romantic interest having ended months ago, but even so…His relationship with Angela apart, Drakon looked as if he ate up willowy blondes for breakfast, chewed them round for the rest of the morning, and then spat out their bones before enjoying a brunette for lunch!

Although perhaps thinking about Drakon eating her up wasn’t the best idea when Gemini now found herself unable to look anywhere but at his sculptured mouth as she imagined how those lips would feel against her skin…

‘We’re always busy the day before a big wedding.’ She rushed into speech in an effort to dismiss those erotic and entirely inappropriate thoughts. ‘There’s the church to decorate, the bride’s bouquet and all the corsages and buttonholes to arrange, then in the morning we’ll have to do the top table and twenty others in the reception marquee.’ She shrugged. ‘I have to be up very early tomorrow too in order to make sure it all gets done well before they return from the wedding at four o’clock.’

Exactly why had she felt the need to add that part? she scolded herself. There was absolutely no way she would still be here in the morning!

Drakon looked slightly puzzled. ‘I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh. Sorry.’ She grimaced before taking a quick sip of her wine.

It was excellent. Of course. A perfectly chilled Pinot Grigio, if she wasn’t mistaken. Which she probably wasn’t; her father had considered learning to recognise a good wine as an important part of her education.

‘Delicious wine.’ She nodded her approval before placing the glass down on one of the side tables. Delicious, but definitely lethal for her to drink too much of it when she’d barely had time to draw breath all day let alone eat. Especially as her thoughts had already wandered into what it would feel like to have Drakon’s mouth on her!

‘I am pleased you approve,’ Drakon drawled dryly, even as he wondered about the reason for the blush that had now coloured Gemini’s cheeks. ‘You were about to explain the reason for your involvement in this “big wedding”?’ he reminded her.

She nodded, that white-gold hair gleaming pale and silvery in the lamplight. ‘I own and run a florist’s shop.’

Drakon scowled. ‘I didn’t know that…’

Gemini shrugged those slender shoulders. ‘There’s no reason why you should have done.’

Oh, but there was…As soon as his business meeting this morning had been over Drakon had telephoned down to Max Stanford and asked him to check not only whether Gemini was indeed who she claimed to be, but also into the dynamics of the relationship between Gemini and her stepmother. Perhaps he should have asked Max to put together a more detailed personal dossier on Gemini?

To learn that she had a job at all, let alone owned and ran her own florist’s shop, came as something of a surprise to him. Miles Bartholomew had come from old money, and had only added to that wealth during his successful business life; as his only child Gemini would surely have no reason to work. Unless…

His jaw tightened. ‘I thought you said you were not left without funds when your father died?’

‘I wasn’t.’ She smiled, revealing small and even white teeth. ‘As I said, I have a trust fund. I’ve owned my shop for five years now—I’m afraid I’m just not the type to sit on my backside looking pretty while I wait for some handsome prince to whisk me off my feet and into marriage,’ she declared.

This young woman was ethereally beautiful rather than merely pretty, and Drakon had no doubts that there had been plenty of men during her twenty-seven years who would have wished to ‘whisk’ her off to somewhere probably a lot less permanent than matrimony. Himself included…?

‘And do you enjoy owning and running a florist’s shop?’ he bit out, annoyed with his own thoughts.

‘I love it!’ She gave him another bright smile, those sea-green eyes glowing.

‘And is your shop successful?’

‘Very.’ Gemini shot Drakon a mischievous sideways glance. ‘And that’s not me being egotistical—it just is.’

‘Please don’t put words into my mouth,’ he advised dryly. ‘And no business “just is” successful. It takes hard work on the part of someone to make it so.’

She eyed him curiously. ‘You sound as if you speak from experience?’

He shrugged. ‘My father and uncle were the ones to found Lyonedes Enterprises. My cousin and I have merely continued to add to that success.’

Gemini knew these two powerful men had done so much more than that. Lyonedes Enterprises was now one of the most financially strong and successful companies in the world.

‘My father also started and ran his own company,’ she said. ‘He liquidated it all when he retired at sixty.’

‘Because you had no interest in running your father’s company? Or because he had no son to continue it?’ Drakon prompted curiously.

Her smile faltered slightly. ‘Both, probably.’

Was that a note of sadness Drakon could hear in Gemini’s voice? Perhaps an underlying wistfulness for having grown up an only child? Having spent much of his life growing up with a boisterous younger cousin, Drakon could not even begin to imagine what that must have been like. His parents’ house had always seemed filled to overflowing with the two of them, and also many of their friends.

‘Unfortunately my talent always lay with flowers and other things that grow.’ She brightened. ‘Even as a small child I was obsessed with digging in the garden. To the point that my mother finally persuaded my father to give me my own bed in the garden—no doubt in an effort to stop me from digging up his prize roses!’ she added affectionately.

Just her talk of her parents was enough to reveal the deep love that had existed between them and Gemini—making Miles Bartholomew’s second marriage, to a woman not so much older than Gemini herself, even more difficult for her?

Drakon made a mental note to himself to thank his mother the next time he saw her for never having put Markos and himself through that same unpleasantness. Not that either of them would have been difficult if Karelia had decided to marry again after their father’s death; they both loved her far too much to wish her anything but happiness.

‘I imagine, as you’re the owner of a florist’s shop, it must be difficult for a man to send you flowers,’ he commented.

‘Not at all,’ Gemini assured him lightly. ‘Yellow roses are my favourites, if you ever feel the—’ She broke off abruptly, that delicate blush once again warming her cheeks. ‘Sorry. Of course you aren’t ever going to want to send me flowers.’ She grimaced, before turning away to stroll across to the windows that looked out over the illuminated London skyline. ‘This really is a magnificent view.’

Yes, it was. Except Drakon wasn’t looking at the London skyline but at Gemini herself.

He didn’t believe he had ever met another woman quite like her before. Beautiful, obviously accomplished as she ran a successful shop, and from all accounts a loving and loyal daughter to her father despite the less than harmonious relationship that existed between her and her stepmother. And she now felt such a sense of duty towards the home where she had spent her childhood, which had been in her family for over three hundred years, that she had even risked the possibility of Drakon having her arrested earlier this morning.

‘Do you play…?’

He smiled slightly as he saw she was looking across at the piano.

‘A little.’

‘And do you play well?’

‘Passably.’ He shrugged.

‘I’m sure that if you play even a little you do it very well indeed,’ she chided teasingly.

Drakon crossed the room to stand beside her. The softness of her perfume was an enticing mixture of flowers and beautiful woman. ‘Why do you say that?’ he prompted.

She smiled widely. ‘I don’t know you very well, but I already know enough about you to realise you’re the type of man who, if he chooses to do something, will never do it “passably” well!’ Once again that smile faltered and then disappeared as she seemed to realise exactly what she’d just said. And its obvious sexual implications…

Drakon chuckled huskily as that becoming blush once again coloured the ivory smoothness of her cheeks. ‘I will take that as a compliment…’

Gemini wasn’t at all comfortable with the sudden intimacy between them—an intimacy she knew she was completely responsible for creating with her thoughtless comment!

Was it because she hadn’t completely dispelled those earlier images of a naked Drakon Lyonedes emerging from the shower from her mind? Probably. She found it a little difficult to think of him in the abstract at all when he was standing beside her. So hot and immediate. As well as dark and dangerously attractive!

She moistened her lips. ‘Perhaps we should just concentrate on our business discussion?’

Those dark eyes narrowed, and his mouth was once again a thin and uncompromising line. ‘In that case I believe we must first dispense with your mistaken belief that I am currently involved in a personal relationship with your stepmother.’

Gemini turned, her eyes wide. ‘Mistaken…?’

‘Certainly.’ Drakon frowned. ‘I have always made a point of never mixing business with pleasure.’

‘But—’ She gave a slightly dazed shake of her head. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘It is simple enough, surely?’ He raised those arrogant dark brows. ‘I have no idea why you should have drawn such a conclusion, but I assure you my only connection to your stepmother is one of business. In the form of my purchase of Bartholomew House,’ he added, so that there should be absolutely no doubt as to his meaning.

Gemini stared up at him wordlessly. He looked sincere enough. In fact he looked more than sincere—his handsome face was now visibly showing an expression of extreme distaste at the mere suggestion that he might be involved in an affair with Angela…

But her stepmother had told her—

A lie…?

What possible reason could Angela have had to lie about being involved in an intimate relationship with Drakon?

Knowing the other woman as well as Gemini had come to know Angela since her father had died, she found the answer was suddenly all too obvious.

Gemini had tried so hard to like Angela when her father had first introduced her as the woman he intended to marry. Despite the vast age difference between Angela and Miles. Despite the fact that Gemini had believed her father was rushing too hastily into a second marriage. And in spite of the fact that Angela had given every appearance of being nothing more than a voluptuous blonde beauty attracted to Miles’s money rather than the man himself.

Yes, despite all those things Gemini had still tried to like and get along with the older woman. For her father’s sake, if for no other reason, because she’d known how much he had wanted his second wife and his daughter to be friends.

Whenever the two women had been in Miles’s company that had always appeared to be the case. It had only been when Gemini found herself alone with the other woman that Angela’s hostility had become so blatantly obvious, in the form of cutting remarks or long, uncomfortable silences.

It had quickly become obvious to Gemini that, other than Miles, the two women had absolutely nothing in common, and that even that common interest differed greatly in its intent. Angela had wanted and demanded all of Miles’s attention for herself. The existence of his twenty-something daughter had been more of an embarrassment than anything else. Whereas Gemini had just wanted to see her father happy again.

Angela asking her to move out of the house once she’d married Miles had certainly been no hardship to Gemini. She had only moved back into Bartholomew House after her mother died so that her father wouldn’t be left alone there with only his memories. It had been perfectly natural for her to move out again in order to leave the newly married couple to their privacy.

It was the fact that Angela had made the request without Miles’s knowledge and knowing full well that Gemini would never tell him what she had done that had been hard to bear. Angela had made it obvious to Gemini that she resented any time father and daughter spent together—to the point that she’d ensured it rarely happened. It had been an attitude that was never visible whenever Miles was present. Angela’s behaviour then had been sickeningly kittenish as she’d continued to wrap her much older and totally smitten husband about her manicured, sexy little finger.

In the circumstances, was it any wonder that Angela had enjoyed implying to Gemini that she had managed to capture the interest of someone like Drakon Lyonedes—a man half Miles’s age and probably a dozen times richer?

Knowing Angela as well as she did, Gemini thought the other woman believed it was only a matter of time, anyway, until she made the fabricated affair into a reality. So what did it matter if she’d exaggerated the situation to Gemini now? And if it didn’t happen who was ever going to contradict Angela’s claims when the man himself was so utterly elusive?

Except Gemini had now met Drakon, and she felt extremely foolish for having believed the other woman’s boast about his being infatuated with her. Gemini had no doubt Angela was lying to her; Drakon Lyonedes wasn’t the type of man to be infatuated with any woman. Besides, being so arrogantly self-assured he obviously never felt the need to lie about any of his actions—least of all his involvement with a woman!

‘Am I right in assuming this information was given to you by your stepmother?’ he prompted harshly.

Gemini flinched at the disgust underlying his tone. ‘Perhaps I misunderstood her.’ She gave an uncomfortable lift of her shoulders. ‘I—She mentioned how…nice you were.’ Sexily gorgeous had been her exact words, actually, but Gemini really couldn’t bring herself to tell him that! ‘Maybe I just let my imagination take that a step further than Angela actually intended—’

‘I believe you assured me earlier that you do not lie?’ Drakon cut in.

She winced. ‘I try not to, no…’

‘Then do not do so now,’ he advised her coldly.

‘I believe I said I might have been mistaken,’ she said uncomfortably.

‘And do you really believe that?’

‘What I believe is that Angela was trying to hurt me by boasting of how quickly she had replaced my father in her bed,’ Gemini acknowledged shakily. ‘You must have thought I was completely off my head this morning when I started rambling on about the affair you were having with Angela.’ She offered him an embarrassed smile.

He gave a derisive snort. ‘Not completely, no.’

‘You’ve never been intimately involved with Angela, have you?’

‘No,’ he confirmed.

‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry!’

‘Here—drink some more of your wine.’ Drakon moved to pick up Gemini’s glass and handed it to her, inwardly seething at Angela Bartholomew and the lies she had told her stepdaughter. In order to hurt her? No doubt. For himself, Drakon took exception to any woman claiming to have a relationship with him that simply did not, never had and never would exist. Especially in the case of the voluptuous Angela Bartholomew.

Would he resent it quite as much if it had not been the intriguing and beautiful Gemini to whom that lie had been told?

Drakon didn’t even want to think about the implications of that question, let alone find an answer for it! ‘Not everything your stepmother told you about me was a lie. Lyonedes Enterprises is





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