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She hadn’t known anybody could pretend like that. She had loved him, and she had believed he loved her. Her mouth twisted. But that was what she had been supposed to think. Her naïveté was like a scourge to her already lacerated soul. She had been a young twenty-one to his vastly more experienced twenty-nine. He couldn’t have known for certain that she would fall in love with him, only that he knew enough about women to be able to make it a distinct possibility.
Shivering, Alix curled up in an armchair. Pierce had been right about her love life. She didn’t have one, and was there really any wonder? What she had suffered at his hands had made her fear the fire like any sane person. Never again would she trust any man with her happiness. Oh, she had men who were friends, and whom she sometimes dated, but although she knew some of them would like to deepen the relationship she had always been careful to keep them at a distance.
Her friends had stopped asking her why she had changed so after her return from America when she had stonewalled every question. Though they still tried to pair her up, it was half-hearted at best, and they obeyed her unspoken wish for privacy.
She closed her eyes. Stopping questions was one thing, stopping memories was something else. In the beginning they had been her scourge to remind her of what must never happen again. The scenes had been played over one by one, but although they had haunted her, waking and sleeping, for the past five years, the intervals between had lengthened. She hadn’t thought of him for a long time, but tonight everything returned with a vengeance.
Pierce had been so clever, manipulating her into believing what she wanted to believe—that he loved her. Only he hadn’t. That had been made manifestly obvious to her in one short hour. He had acted out his part with such consummate skill that it wasn’t till the morning after the wedding that she discovered the man she had married was nothing but a sham.
On the day that should have been the beginning of their life together she had finally met the real Pierce Martineau...
CHAPTER TWO
IT HAD been a hard day at work. Not that Alix minded hard work at all. She was coming to the end of a six-month exchange, and finding out how a sister company worked would surely put her in good stead for her return to England, now only a few weeks away, where she would take up her job as a junior executive in the publishing business her father had built up. However, her new friends socialised at night with just the same energy as they used during the working day, and she wasn’t quite used to partying to all hours. Which was why she was feeling tired, and why she was thankful that tonight she had already arranged a visit to the theatre with some friends of her father’s.
The play was excellent, and she was discussing it enthusiastically in the foyer during the first break when she felt eyes on her. It was an uncanny sensation, raising the hairs on her flesh, and it was almost as if those unknown eyes were compelling her to turn around. Which she did because she couldn’t help herself, eyes scanning the crowd for mere seconds before they locked with eyes of such a vivid blue, they seemed to spear her to her soul. Her lips parted on a silent gasp as she seemed unable to tear her gaze away from the man who stood mere yards away. In those seconds something elemental flew between them, then someone claimed his attention, and she was released.
Instantly Alix turned away, but a stronger compulsion had her looking back over her shoulder. She was aware of her heart galloping madly and unconsciously pressed a hand to her throat. He was still talking, and she could only see his profile, but even that caused a jolt of awareness to lock her stomach muscles. He had to be the most handsome man she had ever seen. His suit fitted him like a glove, and as he was standing with his hands in his pockets the jacket was pushed back, and she had the perfect view of his long legs and muscular thighs. A wave of heat swept through her as her body responded in a way it never had before. Her blood seemed to sing and her mouth went dry. And as she raised stunned eyes she saw him excuse himself and begin to walk towards her.
For a second time she looked away, but the tension in her body alerted her to the exact moment he stopped beside her. Her brain had stopped functioning a long time ago, but she heard her companions greet him with pleasure. His reply was said in a deep, mellow voice that sent shivers up and down her spine. Then she heard her name, and had to pull herself together quickly.
‘Alix, we’d like you to meet a good friend of ours, Pierce Martineau,’ Robert Wells declared jovially. ‘This little lady is English, and the daughter of an old friend, Alix Petrakos.’
Automatically Alix held out her hand, knowing she must be staring helplessly up at him like an idiot. ‘How do you do?’ she greeted huskily, and felt the hand which had swallowed hers tighten fractionally. It was like touching a live wire, and she knew from his indrawn breath that he felt it too.
Pierce Martineau returned that stare silently for a moment, and Alix had the strangest feeling that he was shocked. Then he smiled and cleared his throat. ‘Forgive my rudeness, but I was quite bowled over by your accent. Add that to your beauty, and a mere male is helpless,’ he excused himself with lethal charm.
‘Careful, Alix, Pierce has quite a reputation!’ Olivia Wells warned with a laugh. ‘He’s the original wolf.’
Pierce seemed to release Alix’s hand reluctantly, his attention remaining on her even as he responded to the other woman. ‘Stop maligning me, Livvy, or you’ll scare her off.’
Delicate colour washed into Alix’s cheeks, as she licked her lips nervously, an act which his eyes followed minutely, their colour deepening dramatically. ‘I prefer to make my own judgements about people,’ she declared daringly, and watched his lips curve as he smiled.
‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ he said softly, making Alix feel as if they were the only two people in the room. ‘Petrakos? That sounds Greek, not English.’
‘My family came from Greece after the war. My mother’s English, and I was born there,’ she replied rather breathlessly, just as the bell went for the second act. Biting her lip, she realised they had to go, but the prospect of never seeing this man again made her feel cold inside.
His hand on her arm detained her. ‘May I take you to supper after the play?’
Her heart seemed to be lifted by wings of joy, and she was sure it must be mirrored on her face. Before it fell as she recalled she was the Wellses’ guest. ‘I’d like to, but we’ve already got a table booked.’
‘It seats four,’ Olivia observed wryly. ‘Join us, Pierce.’
‘It will be my pleasure,’ he accepted, all the while keeping his eyes on Alix, who felt she could drown in their fathomless depths. ‘Until later, then,’ he promised huskily, and with a last smile walked away.
‘Well!’ Olivia declared wonderingly. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen Pierce react like that before. You’ve certainly made a hit there, Alix.’
She certainly hoped so. Though she had never really believed in it before, Alix knew she had fallen in love at first sight. The remainder of the play was lost on her, for her thoughts were miles away. Though she clapped at the end, she couldn’t have said what occurred, and it was only when they finally emerged into the foyer and she saw Pierce waiting by the door that life seemed to flow back into her.
Supper at a nearby restaurant was raised above the ordinary by the new-found feelings which swelled her heart. Afterwards, there was never any doubting that Pierce would drive her home. He walked her right to the door of the apartment she was renting, taking the key from her and opening the door. Returning the key, he held on to her hand, frowning down into her upturned face.
‘Alix Petrakos,’ he murmured on a strange sighing moan. ‘Who would have thought that you would come into my life and turn it upside-down?’
The statement did funny things to her heart. ‘Have I?’
A wry smile quirked his lips. ‘Oh, yes, most definitely. I never expected you.’
She didn’t quite know what to make of that. ‘I didn’t expect you, either. I came here to work, not...’ She floundered to a halt.
‘Not,’ Pierce agreed, looking deep into her eyes. ‘Perhaps it isn’t the done thing to kiss you on our first date, but God knows I want to!’
The passion in his voice stole her breath, and she shivered. ‘Is this a date?’
‘The first of many,’ he promised throatily, drawing her towards him, but gently, so that she could refuse if she wanted to.
Alix didn’t want to. She went into his arms, feeling as if she belonged there. His head dipped, and his lips brushed hers. Tentatively at first, almost as if he was afraid, his tongue-tip traced delicately over her lips. She gasped as the frisson of pleasure chased along her nerves, and her lips parted, allowing him the freedom to caress the sensitive inner skin. A tiny cry of delight escaped her throat, and with a groan he caught a hand in her hair, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss with an erotic mastery. Alix, who had always thought kissing rather overrated, suddenly found her senses rioting at the pleasure they were receiving, and which they urged her to return. Arms clinging around his neck, at first tentatively, then more boldly, she welcomed the stroking thrust of his tongue with her own. By the time Pierce dragged himself away, they were both breathing fast.
Holding her at arm’s length, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. ‘No more. You would drive a saint to lose control, and, as Livvy told you, I’m no saint,’ he growled, then, seeing the downward turn of her bruised lips, brushed his thumb over them.
‘I don’t want a saint,’ she returned dangerously, and shivered at the way his eyes glittered. She’d never wanted anybody, until Pierce.
Taking her hand, he brushed it with his lips. ‘At this point a wise man would withdraw, but it seems I cannot. Have dinner with me tomorrow.’
It never even entered her head to say no, but she had no idea just how much her ‘yes’ would change her life.
She went to dinner with him the following evening, and the hours flew by. By the time he drove her home, she was fathoms-deep in love with him. He was so easy to talk to, interested in everything she said. When he talked about himself, she was so busy watching the play of expressions on his face, and listening to the silky sound of his voice, that she could hardly remember a word he had said, but she was captivated even so.
He was like no other man she had ever met. Handsome, exciting, endlessly intriguing, he swept her off her feet. Used to being pursued by men who either wanted to know her because of who she was, or who were only interested in adding her to their list of conquests, Pierce was like a breath of fresh air. Oh, she knew he wanted her, as the passion of his goodnight kisses made plain enough, yet at no time did he attempt to rush her into bed. Her response to him was just as potent, but made all the more electrifying for being held in check.
He chose to satisfy other senses. Every date became an adventure as he introduced her to new and exciting experiences. One day they might succumb to the lure of grand opera followed by a late supper at an exclusive restaurant, the next would find them walking barefoot on the beach, eating seafood on the pier. Yet all the time that underlying attraction was there. He made exciting love to her, but was always in control. Then one evening, when the frustration which had her tossing restlessly in her bed at night made her protest at his withdrawal, he drew her up beside him on her couch and brought her gaze up to his with a hand beneath her chin.
‘When I take you to bed, Alix, it will be to consummate a marriage, not an affair,’ he declared huskily.
As she gazed up at him, lips still throbbing from his passionate kisses, tears sprang to her eyes. ‘You want to marry me?’ she gasped incredulously, because although it was what she wanted she hadn’t been sure that Pierce wanted anything more than an affair.
He smiled wryly. ‘I rather think I ought to, before my control runs out.’
Her eyes probed his, wanting to be sure. ‘You know you don’t have to marry me, Pierce,’ she offered, because it was true. She loved him too much to deny him anything.
His blue gaze scalded her. ‘I know, but it’s marriage or nothing. Or are you saying you don’t want to marry me?’ he accused, and she shook her head swiftly.
‘Oh, no! I do want to marry you, Pierce. I love you desperately,’ she cried, flinging her arms up around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.
After a second, his own arms closed about her. ‘Then we’ll be married as soon as I can arrange it,’ he declared thickly. ‘You don’t mind if it’s just the two of us? No friends, no family?’
So happy, she rubbed her cheek against his. ‘Mum and Dad won’t mind, just so long as I’m happy.’
So, without telling a soul, they were married in Los Angeles just a few days later, taking witnesses from off the street, and rushed straight from the wedding chapel to the airport to catch a flight to New York. It didn’t worry her that she really knew very little about him, except that he was American and a businessman. They had fallen in love, and their time was too precious to worry about such mundane matters. She knew he was successful, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he wasn’t. Love, she discovered, was all they needed to make them happy.
It was quite late when they arrived at his apartment. Alix suddenly found she was nervous. This would be the first time they had really been alone together, and the promise of the night ahead made her shiver with equal measures of excitement and alarm. She had never made love with anyone in all her twenty-one years, while Pierce was undoubtedly experienced, and she didn’t want to disappoint him. Especially when he appeared to be in such a strange mood. He had been quiet on the flight, preoccupied, and when he had spoken there had been an odd stiltedness in his manner which she found a little unnerving.
When it continued into the meal his housekeeper had left for them, but which neither of them was doing justice to, she felt forced to speak. ‘Is everything all right?’
Without looking at her, Pierce continued cutting his meat, but then, with a muffled oath, he threw aside his knife and fork, meeting her startled gaze with a look she had come to know so well, and which set her heart thumping in her chest.
‘No, it isn’t. There’s only one thing I’m hungry for, and that isn’t food. I want you, Alix. I’ve waited as long as I can, but my patience has finally run out,’ he declared gruffly, and rose to his feet.
She understood then the reason for his preoccupation, and didn’t protest when he picked her up and carried her to their bedroom, nor at the fervour with which he proceeded to make love to her so gloriously. He awakened her fledgeling sensuality with a sensitivity which allowed her to find her own pace, caressing away her clothes, and inviting her to do the same to him. Any fear she had had evaporated in the growing heat of passion, stoked by the caress of his hands on her silken skin, and the touch of his mouth on her breasts.
He aroused her slowly, taking infinite care, his mouth and hands teasing until she was moving restlessly beneath him, her hands reaching out to touch him. His receptivity, the moaning sighs he gave that revealed the pleasure her touch was giving him, invited her to be bolder, and all her inhibitions faded away. It was not enough, and she told him so with every pleading twist of her body. Only then did he begin to make love to her with an urgency that soon had them locked together, straining towards a goal she had never reached before. When he took her, the pain was fleeting, forgotten as Pierce showed her a world of dazzling pleasure, taking her way beyond herself in a kaleidoscopic explosion which had her crying out, and hearing his own cry echo in her wake.
* * *
Alix stirred in the large double bed, coming awake to the tingling knowledge that Pierce lay beside her. Her husband. A warm glow of pure happiness spread through her system at the sound of that. No longer was she plain Alix Petrakos, but Mrs Pierce Martineau.
Turning her head on the pillow, her lips curved as she studied the back of his head, his dark hair rumpled by more than mere sleep. The memory started an altogether different glow inside her. Their union had been perfect. Everything she had ever hoped and more. She had fallen asleep in his arms, blissfully content. But that had been last night. It was morning now, and all she had to do was reach out and touch him, and Pierce would respond. Her heart gave a skip and settled into a faster rhythm, the fine hairs on her body rising as her nerve-ends came to prickling life. Smiling, she rolled over beneath the silk sheet, reaching out one slim hand to slide about his waist.
It was a move she never completed, because at her first touch the man beside her jack-knifed away, sitting up, thrusting back the cover.
‘Don’t touch me!’ The rasping tones, so harshly alien, shocked her into immobility—but only for a millisecond; then she too sat up, watching in total incredulity as the supple, naked figure of her husband moved away from the bed with a stiff-legged stride. One visibly trembling hand pushed the tumble of long platinum locks from her eyes. Large grey eyes, rimmed by dusky lashes, were suddenly clouded with disbelief and hurt.
‘What?’ She breathed the question on a note that hovered uncertainly between hopeful humour and pending horror.
The tall, slim-hipped, dark-haired figure of her husband seemed actually to stiffen at the sound of her voice, but he didn’t halt his progress to the en-suite bathroom. Gathering scattered wits, Alix was out of the bed in seconds, the sheet she used to cover her nakedness billowing about her legs as she followed him to the open door. He had to explain that remark if he wanted her to treat it as the joke it just had to be.
‘Pierce!’ Alix managed to keep her voice light by a monumental effort, but even so her underlying shock was plain. ‘That wasn’t funny, darling.’
Leaning casually against the sink, Pierce waited for the bowl to fill, turning off the water before swinging his head towards her. She wasn’t able to hold back her gasp as his beautiful blue eyes surveyed her from her head to her toes with blood-chilling disdain. She felt as if he stripped her. Not of clothes, but of her dignity. She suffered a searing wave of humiliation never experienced before, and her eyes widened, something as cold and heavy as lead filling her stomach.
When Pierce spoke, there was insolence in his voice too. ‘I never for a minute imagined it was.’
‘Pierce!’ She couldn’t believe he would say something to hurt her so. Not this cold-bloodedly. It wasn’t a joke. It was something more horribly real than that, and she had to find out just what it was before her world fell apart in tatters. ‘What’s happened? What’s wrong?’
Pierce was busy applying shaving-foam, but he paused to spare her a mocking glance that seemed to diminish her. ‘Whatever makes you think something is wrong?’
She floundered in a morass of confusion. Up until yesterday he had been so loving, and now... She cast about desperately in her mind for some sort of an answer, anything that would hold back the black tide of pain. ‘Is it something I’ve done? Are you regretting marrying me?’ It was the only thing she could think of.
He laughed at that, but without a single mitigating trace of humour. ‘No, I had every intention of marrying you. It was what I wanted.’
It should have been the answer she wanted to hear, but there was an edge to it which struck a chill through her heart. He sounded so cold, so...unemotional. Like a wanderer in a maze, she knew there was only one road out of this hell, and that was to follow the trail he laid for her. ‘You may have wanted it, but I know something’s wrong. I’m not that much of a fool, however much I may seem to be to you now. I only know that, whatever it is, it’s something we can solve together. That’s what it’s all about when two people love each other.’ Her voice, for all her attempts at sounding reasonable, carried a note of desperation.
Her husband didn’t even bother to pause in his shaving. ‘Who said anything about loving each other?’
The offhand question was a mortal blow which set her rocking. Alix found that her voice had to be dragged from a painfully tight throat. ‘But I love you, Pierce.’
‘That much we do agree on.’ He looked at her then, steely blue eyes daring her to follow up what he said.
She had no defence against the truth he wanted her to acknowledge. ‘No!’ Her cry was a hoarse denial, as a destructive pain tore through her.
Pierce calmly washed away the remaining soap and reached for a towel. ‘No. Quite correct. A good night’s sleep seems to have done wonders for your perception.’
Alix felt so weak that she had to hold on to the doorpost to stop from falling, while her other hand pressed tightly against her heart. ‘You told me you loved me,’ she whispered brokenly.
‘If you think back clearly, you’ll realise I never did use those actual words.’
Her tortured mind winged back to every conversation they had had, and knew it was true. The day she had told him she loved him Pierce had replied... Her eyes shot to his in anguish. She had thought he had told her, but his actual words had been that she couldn’t know the depth of feeling he had in his heart for her! Not love! Never love, only...
Though it killed her, she had to know. ‘Why did you marry me, Pierce?’
‘Why? At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I married you for vengeance.’
The word bombarded her. ‘Vengeance? But that makes no sense. For what? What have I done?’
She saw anger in his eyes then, a fury so great that it wiped out the terrible disdain. ‘Can the granddaughter of Yannis Petrakos really not know? I can’t believe that, my dear Alix. Search your memory, and I’m sure you’ll find the truth. Of course, if you don’t manage it, you can always come and ask me.’ He controlled his anger with that mocking contempt. ‘Now, if I’m going to get to the office for eight-thirty, I’d like to shower. For which I would prefer a little more privacy, if you don’t mind. Or can it be that watching a man walk about naked is one of your more interesting peccadilloes?’ Having sent that parting shot and watched it strike home, Pierce shut the bathroom door in her face.
Alix stumbled the few feet which separated her from the bed, and collapsed down on it. Her limbs were shaking with a palsy, her thoughts chaotic. The only fact which penetrated was that he didn’t love her. The words went over and over in her mind like a record stuck in a groove. Which was why she was still sitting there when Pierce emerged from the bathroom minutes later and, after affording her one brief glance, proceeded to dress. White-faced, she watched him, the scales falling from her eyes. Everything about him was hard now; there was none of the loving softness left. He had sloughed that off with yesterday’s travel-soiled clothes, and now he stood revealed to her in his true colours.
Having ignored her presence, once dressed in a dark grey business suit Pierce paused briefly before departing. ‘My housekeeper’s name is Mrs Ransome. Should there be anything you require you need only ask her.’
Alix didn’t have the necessary composure to reply and Pierce didn’t wait for one. Without another word he left her. Left her alone with her misery of betrayal and only her agonised thoughts for company. When, only minutes later, Mrs Ransome appeared to enquire if she required breakfast, Alix still hadn’t moved. Her chalk-white face showed no sign of tears because none had fallen, but she wasn’t numb either. She only wished she were, so that the pain would end.
Calmly she refused the food, going through the painful mechanics of smiling. ‘No, thank you, Mrs Ransome. I’m still feeling rather jet-lagged.’ That twentieth-century phenomenon would have been far easier to deal with than the truth, and a bubble of hysteria threatened to destroy what composure she had. She swallowed it back hastily. ‘I think I need to rest more than eat.’
The housekeeper nodded wisely. ‘Very good, Mrs Martineau. And may I take this opportunity of wishing you and Mr Pierce happy?’
Alix didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Happy? Yet she must have made some acceptable reply, because the housekeeper smiled and went out. The mask cracked then, as she lowered her head, the graceful arch of her neck revealing her terrible vulnerability. She didn’t know what Pierce meant. Her family hadn’t done anything to him. She had never heard his name mentioned. But Pierce had been so sure. He wanted vengeance, he said, and had set out on a course to deceive and entrap her just for that purpose. He had spent weeks pursuing her, wooing her, using every facet of charm that lay at his fingertips to persuade her of his affections—to claim her as his wife so that he could callously renounce it all this way.
Her hands came up to cover her face. But she had loved him so! How could he betray her like this? It wasn’t human. It was unfeeling and... Lord help her, her heart felt as if it was being torn asunder, the pain of it ripping open nerves until they were raw and bleeding. Yet even as the pain grew it gradually gave birth to a cauterising anger.
She had done nothing to deserve this! It was a cry from the very depths of her heart, and her blood answered. Suddenly she wanted to hurt him as he was hurting her. The thought of it filled her stomach with a red-hot flame. The memory of how she had given all her love and trust to this man branded her soul. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she refused to shed them. He had brought her low, but he would never see her cry.
* * *
Alix came out of the past with a shiver. The brandy remained untouched in the glass, and she set it aside, rubbing some warmth into her arms with her hands. The revenge she had sought in her rage and pain had never materialised, because that had been only the beginning. Yet nothing that happened later had touched her the way that first betrayal had. The hurt had gone so deep that all else had compounded it, but could not make it worse.
Yet, as she had told Pierce, their brief marriage had taught her a lesson. A valuable one. Never again would she fall for a man’s lies, nor give him any control over her life, so that he had the power to manipulate and hurt her. Nor would she ever allow her own emotions to lead her into those same dangerous waters, blinding her to everything.
She had had a warning tonight that his attraction was as potent as ever, and she deplored her own feminine weakness which made her vulnerable to him. She had to be on her guard. Whatever Pierce was here for, she had to keep a clear head and not let her emotions sway her judgement. It was the only way to stay one step ahead of him. She didn’t trust him, had learned not to in the hardest way.
Whatever plan he had she would be wary of. She knew all about the Martineau company now. It was so diversified, it was doubtful if he’d ever be threatened with a take-over, hostile or otherwise. Whereas he had a habit of acquiring failing companies, splitting them into their constituent parts, and selling them off at a profit. If that was what he had in mind for Petrakos Publishing, then he could think again.
Yet Pierce’s personal reputation was spotless. He had the proverbial Midas touch. There was scarcely a word written but to praise him. However, the businessman was one thing, the man another, as she knew to her cost. If the Petrakos empire weren’t in such dire straits, she would have absolutely nothing to do with him. But she must force herself to swallow her pride and be practical for the sake of the thousands of livelihoods involved.
If she kept her mind on that, then she knew she could handle Pierce. She had grown up a lot in the last five years, and knew she was stronger mentally. She wasn’t going to be a coward and run away. This time she was going to face up to him, and she was going to win.
It was a thought which put a tight smile on her lips as she finally made her way to her bedroom. Perhaps she would get her revenge after all.
CHAPTER THREE
