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She lifted her chin, pride giving her strength. ‘Did you forget to mention that?’ Her eyes were still fixed on Zander, sparking fire and flame. ‘How remiss of you. If you wanted it kept a secret then you picked the wrong woman. I’m not prepared to be anyone’s dark secret.’
Something flashed in those molten dark eyes. For a fleeting moment she thought it might be admiration but then she shook herself. Zander didn’t admire the sort of woman she was. He liked meek, obedient women who played the game and she’d never played the game.
She didn’t do meek, and she didn’t do obedient either.
Alec slid a finger inside his collar, sweat visible on his brow. ‘Well, obviously this—er— I mean we didn’t— Miss O’Neill— I mean Mrs Volakis—’ He broke off and glanced nervously at his boss, waiting for some sort of reaction.
But Zander didn’t speak.
He just watched her.
Using silence as the ultimate weapon. Letting everyone else around him sweat, Lauranne thought grimly.
She clenched her teeth but she didn’t drop her gaze. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She knew his tricks. Knew just how skilled he was at manipulating his opponent. If he thought he could intimidate her, then he’d misjudged her.
But then misjudging her was an art that he’d perfected.
‘Why are you here?’ Her breathing laboured, Lauranne straightened her slim shoulders and at that point Tom cleared his throat and stepped forward.
‘This is obviously a mistake. We should just cancel this meeting—’
Still on the receiving end of Zander’s cold stare, Lauranne saw the instant change in him. Saw the lethal flash of white-hot anger as he registered Tom’s voice. The stillness in that athletic frame fell away to be replaced by a tension so powerful that she took an instinctive step backwards. Connected as she was to that dark, molten gaze, she felt his mood shift from restrained to furious with staggering speed. It was like staring into the crater of a volcano on the very brink of eruption.
He dragged his gaze away from hers and fixed his attention on Tom, his fabulous eyes glittering dangerously, anger visible in every angle of his powerful body.
Transported back five years, Lauranne sucked in a breath.
With the shockingly expensive designer suit and the Rolex watch on his wrist, Zander might look every inch the civilised businessman, but she knew that he was anything but civilised. Behind the trappings of success that he wore with such effortless style lurked a male so basic and primitive in his perspective on life that a loincloth would have been more appropriate dress.
‘Zander, no—!’
Suddenly she was the one trying to calm things and instinctively she stepped in front of Tom.
‘Still protecting him, Lauranne?’ Zander’s eyes flashed dark, his voice thickened with anger as he whirled on his unsuspecting employees. ‘Get out. All of you get out.’
The rest of his team stared at him in blatant shock, horrified and fascinated by this unusual display of emotion from a man renowned for his self-control.
Alec cleared his throat, his consternation evident. ‘Zander, maybe we should—’
‘I want to talk to my wife,’ Zander growled, turning back to Lauranne. His gaze slammed into hers with the force of a missile. ‘Get rid of Farrer.’
His own team made their retreat so hastily that if the situation hadn’t been so serious she would have laughed at how pathetic they were.
But the situation was serious, and she wasn’t laughing.
Her heart hammering against her chest, Lauranne swallowed and turned to Tom, desperate to defuse a highly charged situation.
‘Go,’ she urged, her slim fingers closing over the back of a chair for support. Her legs were shaking and her palms were clammy. ‘Just go! And you too, Amanda.’
Tom hesitated, both eyes fixed warily on Zander. ‘I’m not leaving you with him.’
She saw Zander’s shoulders tense, saw naked male jealousy and something deeper and far, far more dangerous.
‘Tom—’
Evidently sensing that danger himself, Tom hurried to the door, following in the wake of Zander’s stunned employees.
‘Just remember, Lauranne.’ Tom stopped by the door, keeping one eye on Zander as if he were a dangerous animal who might attack at any moment. ‘Remember what he did.’
Zander braced his muscular shoulders. ‘You’re extremely brave with one hand on the door handle, Farrer.’ His tone was lethally soft and Lauranne watched with dismay as the colour drained from Tom’s face at the barely veiled threat.
Feeling the tension in the room rise to critical levels, she felt an uncontrollable surge of panic, remembering what had happened last time these two men had confronted each other. And she’d been the cause of the confrontation. It was her fault that Zander hated Tom. She was totally to blame and she’d lived with the guilt ever since—
‘Stop it!’ Her voice shook and her breath came in unreliable pants. ‘Stop it, the pair of you!’ Still gripping the chair, her knuckles white, Lauranne glared first at Zander and then at Tom. ‘Go! For goodness sake, please go! Can’t you see that you’re just making things worse?’
With a final scowl at Zander, Tom slid out of the room and suddenly they were left alone.
Zander went straight into attack mode, his eyes fierce and his mouth tight with restrained emotion as he launched his first missile. ‘You went into business with him? With Farrer?’
Suddenly she was glad there was a table between them. It prevented her from hurling herself at him and committing bodily harm.
‘Yes!’ With Tom safely out of the room, she wanted to rub it in. Wanted to poke a stick at the tiger and see just how long it took for him to stop snarling and goad him into action. It was a dangerous game but she couldn’t help herself. What right did he have to question her? To stand there with that contemptuous look on his disgustingly handsome face. ‘Yes, I did. I went into business with him. Tom was good to me.’ She spat the words out and Zander gave a growl and faced her across the table.
‘I know exactly how good he was to you, Lauranne,’ he growled savagely, his voice thick with anger. ‘I witnessed it firsthand.’
Her grip tightened on the chair and her breathing jerked. ‘We’re not going there, Zander. It was five years ago. If you’d wanted to talk we should have done it then but you threw me out. I refuse to discuss it with you now.’
‘There was nothing to talk about,’ he growled, livid streaks of colour emphasising his intensely masculine bone structure. ‘When a Greek man finds his wife in bed with another man, the talking stops.’
He swore in Greek and paced over to the window while Lauranne watched in appalled fascination. She’d never been able to understand how Zander Volakis had gained his reputation for being ice-cold. With her he was so volatile and explosive that he could legitimately be held personally responsible for global warming.
‘What are you doing here?’ Without the protection of the table between them, Lauranne eyed him with healthy caution, all her senses primed for flight. ‘Why have you come here now? It’s been five years—’
Five years during which she had tried to come to terms with their brief and totally disastrous marriage. Five years of trying to put each shattered piece of her life back together, hoping that the glue would hold.
Zander didn’t turn and her eyes fixed on the back of his neck, on the dark hair that just touched his collar. His hair had always fascinated her. It was the only thing about him that was soft and she knew exactly how it would feel under her fingers. Silky. Tempting. So many times she’d slid her hands into that hair, holding his head while he kissed her to the point of meltdown.
Determined not to dwell on his considerable skills in that direction, she dragged her mind back to the present. ‘Why did you pick this company?’
He turned then, all forceful virile male, dominating her meeting room with the sheer force of his presence and personality.
‘I didn’t.’
She gave a humourless laugh as his words registered. ‘You didn’t know it was me, did you? One of your poor, unsuspecting minions recommended my company and you didn’t know it was me—’
‘But I should have guessed from the name.’ He gave a sardonic smile. ‘Phoenix PR. Rising from the ashes, Lauranne?’
She glared at him, her cheeks flushed with colour. ‘And you created those ashes, Zander,’ she reminded him hoarsely, her chest rising and falling as she sucked in air. ‘You fired me and made sure I wouldn’t get another job. You ruined my reputation.’
And he’d trampled on her heart into the bargain but she had too much pride to raise that with him. He’d proved that he didn’t care about her and she was damned if she was even going to hint at how much she’d cared about him. He was a heartless bastard and she should have had more sense than to become involved with him in the first place.
‘Evidently not.’ His gaze was ironic as he glanced round the smart meeting room. ‘You’ve done well for yourself.’
It was typical of Zander to judge someone by their business success, she reflected bitterly. Professionally she had done well, but as for the other areas of her life—
She wondered what he’d say if he knew that she hadn’t been on a date for five years. That every evening she worked until she was exhausted and then just went home and fell into bed. That she was afraid to slow down in case her emotions caught up with her. In case she suddenly started to feel.
Emotionally numb and physically exhausted was the only way she could safely exist.
But Zander wasn’t interested in emotion. He just didn’t do emotion.
He’d deleted their brief marriage from his memory with the same ruthless efficiency with which he organised the rest of his life.
Lauranne lifted her chin. Thanks to him, she’d learned not to do emotion either. If he wanted to talk business, then they’d talk business. ‘The business is a success thanks to Tom. He financed this business with his own money. He took me on when no other company would touch me.’ Her voice shook as she reminded him of the facts. ‘If it hadn’t been for him I would have had no way of earning a living.’
He rounded on her with a ferocious growl. ‘Don’t mention his name in my hearing.’
She felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. ‘Give me one reason why not.’
His eyes flashed fire and flame. ‘Because you were mine,’ he said thickly, his tone pure masculine possession. ‘Mine. And Farrer did what no other man would have dared to do. Only ignorance could have prompted him into such a foolish and risky course of action.’
Her heart was thudding so hard she thought it must be visible to him. ‘He didn’t know what sort of man you are.’
‘I’m Greek,’ he announced flatly. ‘And Greek men know how to take care of their women.’
She needed no reminder of his heritage. It was part of who he was, visible in everything he did and everything he said.
‘Your relationship with women is stuck in the Stone Age. If Versace made loincloths you’d be wearing one.’
‘I didn’t notice you complaining when you were naked under me.’ His voice was a rich, masculine drawl and she felt it curl its way around every part of her damaged and fragile heart. The vision of lying naked with him was all too clear and she felt an unwelcome coil of heat low in her pelvis.
The discovery that part of her still craved him came as an unpleasant shock.
She lifted her chin, struggling to hang onto her dignity. ‘I’d like you to leave right away.’
‘Because you don’t trust yourself around me, Lauranne?’
‘Because I’m afraid I might bruise you if you stay within thumping distance,’ she said grittily. ‘Fighting always was what we did best.’
He lifted an eyebrow mockingly, back in control once again. ‘That’s not how I remember it, agape mou. We did a lot of things extremely well.’
Their eyes clashed and she caught her breath, remembering, feeling—
Oh, God, she didn’t want to feel…
‘Go, Zander. Just go.’
But he didn’t go. Instead he strolled towards her, his eyes still locked with hers in blatant challenge.
She forced herself to hold her ground. Forced herself not to turn and run despite the quivering of her body and the lurch of her heart.
‘You always reminded me of a firework,’ he murmured, his tone conversational as he steadily closed the distance between them. ‘Sparky, full of fire and beautiful enough to make a man gasp. And dangerous to handle.’
His words made her breathing jerk. ‘Come any closer and you’re going to find out just how dangerous. And stop pretending that we had any sort of relationship that meant anything. To you it was just sex and you were only interested in me because I refused you.’
‘Not true,’ he shot back instantly. ‘I was interested because you challenged me. With every flash of your blue eyes and every lift of that delicate chin, you challenged me.’ He came to a halt directly in front of her, a smile playing around his firm mouth. ‘But it’s true that no woman had ever run away from me before. It was a first.’
‘You are impossibly arrogant.’ She gave an exclamation of disgust and his smile widened.
‘I’m honest. And we both know that you were just playing games. You were mine from the moment I saw you sitting on that bar stool, that tiny skirt showing every inch of your fabulous long legs, your golden hair trailing down your back like a beacon lighting up the night sky.’
Her pulse was fluttering and she shook her head in denial. ‘I never would even have spoken to you if I’d known who you were.’
He lifted a hand and touched her hair with gentle fingers, his touch making her tremble.
‘You couldn’t help yourself, Lauranne. And neither could I. It was stronger than both of us—’
And it was still stronger than both of them.
This close she was aware of every single inch of him. She could see the strong column of his throat, smell the tantalising male smell that she associated only with Zander, and she could feel the power of his sexuality with every traitorous bone in her body. He was just so wickedly attractive, she thought desperately, remembering the way he’d murmured huskily to her in Greek as he’d rolled her under him on a warm sandy beach.
She pushed the thought away, wondering why the brain remembered good when there was so much bad to choose from.
‘If I’d known who you were I would have known you were trouble. Your reputation alone would have made me run a mile.’
Dear God, how could she feel like this? Even after everything he’d done to her, she could feel the heat of desire burning inside her, the incessant throb of the blood in her veins.
It was as if her body were suddenly coming to life after five years of hibernation.
Only Zander had ever done this to her.
Only Zander drove her to a pitch of sexual excitement that eclipsed the workings of her brain.
And he hadn’t even touched her—
He was dangerous, deadly and thoroughly addictive.
‘You were a fascinating mixture of sparky and shy,’ he observed, totally ignoring her snappy response. ‘Nervous of me but excited and intrigued at the same time.’
Suddenly it was difficult to speak. ‘I was right to be nervous of you. I should have run a mile.’
‘Instead of which you married me.’
His cool statement sucked the breath from her lungs. Yes, she’d married him. Because she’d been so madly, crazily in love with him that from the day she’d met him the only word in her vocabulary had been ‘yes.’
‘Everyone makes mistakes, Zander.’ And she was still paying for hers. Every minute of every day. ‘You’re ruthless and cold-hearted and I truly don’t believe that you have a compassionate bone in your body.’
He stared at her for a long moment, a muscle working in his lean jaw. ‘There are plenty of people out there who would agree with you,’ he drawled, ‘which brings us back to the reason I’m here.’
