Читать книгу Mediterranean Tycoons: Masterful & Married - Jacqueline Baird - Страница 15

AS AMBER tried to find her voice through the anger that consumed her she told herself, He has to be joking! But Lucas did not look particularly amused. In fact, the cold determination in his black eyes sent an icy shiver of fear slithering down her spine. ‘I don’t have to listen to this,’ she declared forcibly. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘No, you are not,’ Lucas countered coolly, and slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her ruthlessly closer. She felt the heat of him searing her even through her clothes. Amber’s lips went dry, her throat closing in panic. Lucas was holding her tightly. She tried to struggle free, but he simply increased the pressure, crushing her to the hardness of his body. ‘I have no intention of letting you go,’ he muttered, ‘ever again.’ He grasped her chin with one large hand and tilted her head back. ‘Look at me!’ he commanded.

She wanted to escape, and planted her hands firmly on his chest intending to push him away, but the old familiar sexual chemistry held her in thrall, and had he actually said ‘ever again’? The notion was beguiling and the best she could do was stare up at him with puzzled, angry eyes.

Her anger seemed to amuse him, and as his dark gaze bored into her she felt the surge of blood in her cheeks, and began to tremble, her legs suddenly weak as with a faint, mocking smile he told her exactly what he wanted.

‘You and I will marry a week on Saturday in Greece.’ His fingers traced up over her lips in intentional provocation. ‘I can take you to bed now, and remind you how it was with us, or we can wait for the wedding. But that is the only choice I’m giving you.’

Amber knew she should be fighting him, but could only gaze at him in shock, with increasing need and desire scorching through her. ‘No,’ she denied. But his mouth found hers, deriding her negative with a demanding hunger that had her weakening helplessly against him. With sensual expertise he deepened the kiss until a drugging passion had emptied her mind of everything but a growing physical need, an ache she had to have assuaged.

He was using the potent force of his sexuality to get his own way, and even as she recognised the fact Amber suddenly did not care! A wild recklessness filled her, sweeping away the years since Lucas had held her like this, kissed her like this, and, slipping her hands over his chest, she clasped them behind his neck, pressing her slender body to his mighty frame. It was only when he broke the kiss and held her slightly away from him, his breathing ragged, she realised the full extent of her capitulation.

‘Come to bed with me, you know you want to.’ His dark eyes blazed with triumph; he had sensed her complete surrender and taken it as a yes, now he was simply discussing the terms. ‘Now or next week, what does it matter?’

Amber would have denied him, even as her body was on fire for him. His assumption he only had to kiss her and she would give in was an insult to her pride, her self-esteem. But then he groaned.

‘Christo! I certainly need you.’ The hand at her chin was suddenly gentle, and he stared deep into her golden eyes. ‘Say yes.’ She gulped at the unguarded hunger, the desire she saw in expressive eyes. ‘I’ll wait for the wedding night if you insist,’ he said, his smile almost tender.

It was the tenderness that did it. She wanted him. Oh! How she wanted him, and why not? her sex-starved body demanded. She was not going to marry him, she was no longer a lovesick girl, or a fool, but with every nerve in her body screaming with frustration she murmured, ‘All right.’ At least she could have this one night.

Lucas smiled, a slow, sensual twist, then raised his hands to her head and deftly unpinned the severe chignon, and trailed his fingers through the long length of her hair, spreading it over her shoulders. Eyes closed, Amber trembled as his arm slid down around her waist and he rested his head in the curve of her neck, breathing in the fragrant scent of the tumbling mass of hair.

‘I have been longing to do this,’ he murmured. ‘From the second I walked into your office today and saw your magnificent hair scraped back, my fingers ached to set it free. It should always be free.’ His lips moving over her burning cheek finally found her mouth.

The years since they had last met might never have been. Her pulse leapt as Lucas kissed her with a wild, yet tender, passion she was helpless to deny. She didn’t want to. She felt the sudden rush of damp heat flooding her lower body, and feverishly she clung to him, silently abandoning herself to the sheer ecstasy of his kiss, his touch.

Swiftly Lucas swept her up in his arms. She put her arms around his neck and she kissed him very slowly and long. Amber wasn’t really conscious of him lowering her to her feet and removing their clothing as desire mounted fiercely inside her. She touched a slender finger to his lips, remembering, tracing the firm outline—he had such a sensual mouth. Lucas drew a ragged breath, and urged her down onto the bed. She felt the mattress at her back, and stared up at him with passion-glazed eyes. He was magnificent in his nudity; his shoulders were broad, his hips were narrow and his belly flat and hard, and the awesome sight of his aroused manhood made her shudder in almost fearful anticipation.

For a long, tense moment Lucas looked down at her, drinking in her naked beauty with black hungry eyes, then, leaning over, he kissed her, his mouth possessive and urgent on her own.

Then, rearing back, he touched her and she quivered like a leaf in the breeze. His hands swept slowly down her body in a long, sinuous, almost worshipful motion, then up again, his palms flat on her stomach until they reached her breasts. He teased her gently, the fingers of one hand grazing slowly over the tips of her breasts, first one and then the other, bringing them to rigid, aching peaks, while his other hand smoothed back down between her legs that parted involuntarily at his caress. She was moist, ready, aching for him, and with a delicate, erotic touch he caressed her until desire mounted crazily inside her and everything else was blotted from her mind.

He caught her to him, and their mouths met and fused, and she arched herself blindly against him. With tactile delight she slipped her hands down across his shoulders, and along under his arms, across his taut abdomen, and then they swept around the outside of his thighs and finally to his inner thigh, her slender fingers curving around the hard, pulsing strength of him. She wanted him now…

She heard the sharp intake of his breath as his head tilted back. ‘No, Amber.’ And he closed his hand over hers, pulling it from his body. For a horrible second she thought he meant to deny her. ‘Not yet. I was a brute the last time,’ he rasped. ‘I vowed…’

She could see the muscles of his thighs bunch with tension in the effort of control. But after five years of celibacy Amber didn’t want to talk. So she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him back down over her.

He kissed her with a wild hunger, his tongue exploring deep in her mouth, his hands caressing every inch of her burning flesh with sensual delight, and she responded with equal passion and helpless moans of pleasure.

She sank back under his hard, hot body, whimpering with need. But Lucas was not to be hurried. He kissed her mouth, her breasts, her thighs, until she jerked helplessly beneath him, her senses swimming with desire. ‘Please, Lucas, don’t make me wait,’ she begged.

And as though he’d been waiting for her plea Lucas moved between her parted thighs. Amber tensed for a second. It had been a long time for her. The hard length of him moved slowly, easing himself deeper and deeper inside her, sometimes to his full length and sometimes with shallow strokes that teased and enhanced the pleasure almost to pain. Amber had never felt such need, such fiery tension, until her inner muscles convulsed around him in a shattering completion. But still he moved, their bodies locked together.

Lucas rolled onto his back and brought her up above him. His hands clasping her hips, he held her against him, but now he could kiss her breasts. Amber cried out at the feel of his mouth on her taut nipples, and shockingly felt the excitement building all over again.

‘Yes, yes,’ Lucas cried, and as he held her fiercely down on him his great body bucked violently beneath her as he reached his climax. At the same time Amber cried his name, and tumbled over into her own headlong fulfilment yet again.

She collapsed on top of him, breathless and mindless, feeling the sweat of passion cooling on her skin. She buried her head on his shoulder. She did not want him to see her, not yet. Not until she had recovered some of her shattered control. She felt his large, warm hand stroke her back gently, and she could almost fool herself it was love… But not quite…

Rolling off him, she lay flat on her back, and swallowed a despairing sigh—from the heights of ecstasy to the depths of despair in a few moments. Amber knew herself well—no way would she allow any man the intimate liberties she had gloried in with Lucas unless she loved him. The enormity of the realisation made her heartsick.

She loved him, she always had and probably always would. But she had been too badly hurt before to believe he wanted to marry her for any other reason than Spiro’s legacy. Tonight would have to be enough. It was ironic in a way, she thought as a wry smile curved her love-swollen lips. Lucas had called her a gold-digger, but in fact it was Lucas who was now in that position.

‘What are you thinking?’ Lucas propped himself on one elbow, his dark, slumberous eyes boring into hers, his breathing still unsteady. ‘That smile looks decidedly smug.’

It was a question she did not want to answer, not truthfully. The night was young and she intended to make full use of it. She lifted her hands and trailed her fingers through the silky mat of chest hair, caressing his body. As her finger grazed a hard male nipple she felt his magnificent body tremble, and she smiled again. ‘I was wondering how long it takes you to recover these days,’ she murmured throatily, her eyes gleaming with invitation.

Surreptitiously Amber glanced at her wrist-watch—it was the only thing she was wearing. It was close to one o’clock in the morning. She looked down into the face of Lucas Karadines. Somehow he seemed much younger in sleep. His eyes were closed, his long dark lashes brushing his cheeks. He was deeply asleep, not surprising after their second encounter, Amber thought, remembering his seemingly insatiable desire. But she could not sleep—she had to leave. Even now, with her passion for him momentarily quenched, she felt no lessening of desire, but she knew on Lucas’s part it was only lust… He had told her so quite truthfully years ago. Dear heaven! What was it going to take for her to get over him? Death?

On that morbid thought she stifled a sigh and slid out of bed, and by moonlight she managed to find her clothes and get dressed. Slipping her shoes on, she crept quietly towards the door. She turned for one last look at his bronzed body spread out on the bed, and almost went back to join him. Instead she closed the door on the temptation he provided.

She didn’t get far! Finding her jacket on the arm of the sofa, she slipped it on, and, picking up her briefcase, she stepped towards the exit and escape, just when the bedroom door was flung open.

‘Amber.’ Lucas walked into the sitting room, totally unconscious of his nudity. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I am leaving.’

Lucas glared at her for a startled second. ‘What the hell is wrong with you? Are you out of your mind? We have just shared mind-blowing sex and now you are sneaking out of my bed in the middle of the night!’

Pushing the tangled mass of her hair behind her ears in a futile attempt to tame it, she glanced up at Lucas. He had the angry, puzzled look of a child who had had his favourite toy snatched from his grasp, and his crude comment on sex simply angered her further. ‘Why, was I supposed to wait until you left first?’ she asked cynically.

If tonight had taught her anything at all, it was that she had to stay away from Lucas. Because, loving him as she did, she had no resistance against him; she was his for the taking. Even now the temptation to close the distance between them and run her hands over his hard, tanned body, to feel once more the wonder of his possession, was almost irresistible. But one thought stopped her. The memory of his leaving her naked on the floor in the apartment they had once shared was something she would not let herself forget. She moved to walk past him, but his hand shot out and he captured her arm in a steely grip.

‘I have no intention of leaving you—’ he glared down at her pale face and bruised, swollen mouth ‘—or of letting you go. You belong to me!’

‘Spiro’s money belongs to you is what you really mean.’

He frowned at her acid comment. ‘If that is what you want to think, so be it. But it does not alter the fact you are marrying me. I had hoped willingly.’ His black eyes raked appreciatively over her. ‘You’re a very beautiful, intelligent woman; any man would be proud to make you his wife.’

A harsh laugh escaped her. ‘Oh, please, Lucas,’ she drawled scathingly, tugging her arm free and stepping back. ‘It’s a bit late for compliments.’ Five years too late, she thought bitterly.

His dark eyes blazed angrily for a second before adopting his more usual expression, coldly remote. ‘If you say so.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘But if not willingly, I am quite prepared to use coercion. The end result will be the same.’

He sounded so uncompromising that Amber flinched. ‘But why?’ she demanded in exasperation, trying not to look at his naked body. ‘I have told you to contact my lawyer. I will put it in writing here and now, if you like. You can have the lot.’ Her temper was frayed, she was tired and beginning to be afraid. There was something about his insistence on marriage that was finally getting through to her. He was deadly serious.

‘Because of the time-scale, Amber, even if I believe your assurance that you don’t want Spiro’s legacy, I don’t want you to give it to me,’ he insisted for the second time, much to Amber’s puzzlement. ‘I will pay you the going rate for your holding. But first there is the small question of probate. It usually takes months for a will to get through, and in the meantime the company will become vulnerable to rumour as to how you intend to disperse Spiro’s shares,’ Lucas answered grimly. ‘You will be inundated with offers, and, much as I want to believe in your altruistic nature, I prefer to make sure. As my wife it will be apparent to any predator the company is being kept firmly in the family.’

Amber had enough business sense to realise there was a flaw in his argument. ‘In that case the answer is simple. I will give you first option to buy the shares at a knockdown price when I finally inherit. Problem solved,’ she said jauntily.

‘I prefer my solution. We both know there is the possibility of you marrying Clive Thompson—’ he almost spat the name out ‘—and there is no way he is getting anywhere near my business.’ Lucas’s glittering glance was full of macho rage. He knew Amber would not be easy to fool, she was too damn smart. But after the great sex they had shared there was no way on God’s earth he was letting her get away again. He had spent far too many long, lonely nights frustrated as hell. He looked grimly down at her. ‘And if you have any fondness for your new-found father and family, you will do as I say.’

To Amber’s ears that sounded suspiciously like a threat. A terrible coldness invaded her and, cautiously lifting her head, she looked into his jet-black eyes. ‘What exactly do you mean by that?’ she demanded quietly.

‘Wait here while I dress,’ Lucas commanded and strode back into the bedroom, leaving Amber standing in an agony of suspense. She considered walking out, but didn’t dare. Lucas had been so chillingly confident, she had to know what he meant.

When he returned, Amber’s wary gaze swept over him. He looked casually elegant. Light-coloured linen trousers hung easily on his lean hips, a fine knit roll-neck sweater covered his muscular chest and his black hair was brushed firmly from his broad brow. ‘Good, you waited. I rather thought you might,’ he stated silkily. ‘Now, where were we?’ he asked, smiling.

She felt like knocking the grin off his face, but instead gathered all the will-power she possessed and took a couple of steadying breaths. ‘You were about to tell me why I should not marry Clive but marry you instead. Personally I thought it was my own choice. How silly of me,’ she managed to say facetiously.

Lucas’s smile vanished. ‘You have no choice.’ His dark eyes narrowed to angry slits. ‘Not if you value your father’s good name.’ Amber felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as Lucas continued. ‘Since Sir David retired, his bank has not, how shall I put it…?’ He hesitated; his black eyes, glittering with triumph, clashed with hers. ‘His son Mark is not a patch on him. Last year, although it saddened me to do it given the long association between Karadines and Janson’s, I had to cut all ties with the bank. It was only out of deference for Sir David that charges were not brought against them.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ Amber said sharply. ‘My father is an honest man.’

‘Yes, I agree. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for his son,’ Lucas opined cynically.

Amber went white, and in a voice that shook she asked, ‘You’re telling me that Mark has done something illegal?’ The horrible part was, Amber realized that she was not completely surprised by Lucas’s statement.

Lucas shot her a caustic smile. ‘What else would you call using money from a client’s account to fund a yacht in the Med and keeping a very expensive mistress?’

Amber turned her head aside, unable to meet his eyes. Mark had bought a yacht, that much was true, and the mistress didn’t surprise her much either. His poor wife Mary was the mother of three delightful daughters, and spent her whole time apologising for not producing the son her husband wanted.

Lucas walked over to her, his long fingers clasping her chin. ‘If you don’t believe me, ask him, Amber,’ he challenged.

She had a terrible feeling Lucas might be right, and she hid her confusion with an angry accusation. ‘You would use the feeling I have for my father to blackmail me into marrying you?’ she derided. ‘In your dreams, buster.’

His jaw tensed and something violent flashed in his eyes before he drew a deep breath. ‘Not in a dream, but in reality, yes. If that’s what it takes to get what I want. Yes,’ he reiterated bluntly.

She searched his lean, strong face, sure he must be kidding. Surely no man in the twenty-first century could force a woman into marriage? He didn’t mean it. But she could not help noticing the implacable determination in his gaze. How had she forgotten what a ruthless bastard he could be? She’d fooled herself into thinking she could have him for a night and walk away. Amber felt her stomach curl sickeningly with fear as her eyes skimmed over his magnificent physique, the vibrant raw energy of the man that fascinated her even as it repelled her. She had underestimated Lucas. But she’d also overestimated her own ability to control her chaotic emotions. Her eyes widened in horror. ‘You’re crazy,’ she bit out as realisation dawned. He was serious, and, worse, much worse, she was tempted…

One ebony brow lifted while a ruthless smile curved his sensuous mouth. ‘Perhaps, but how would you live with yourself knowing you could have saved the reputation of your father’s firm? A father who went to great lengths to find you and acknowledge you.’

She was trembling. ‘You’re a bastard, Lucas,’ she said, her strained features reflecting her inner turmoil. ‘But I’m not afraid of you. I will ask Mark, and—’

He cut across her. ‘You do that. I made my decision a while ago, I’ll give you until the day after tomorrow to make yours.’

Amber heard the car drive up, the engine stop and the car door slam. Her full lips tightened in an angry grimace as she glanced out of the window of her living room. Lucas was pushing open the wrought-iron gate that led up the garden path to the front door of her cottage.

Since the night when she’d fallen like a ripe plum into his arms, in his hotel suite, her life had become chaotic. The following evening she’d met Mark, her half-brother, for a drink, and as soon as she’d mentioned Lucas Karadines he had gone white, and within minutes she’d had the whole story: it was true. It would have been risible if the consequences had not been so tragic for Amber.

Wednesday morning Lucas had called at her office. Loyalty to her father’s family and her guilty feelings over Spiro’s legacy had forced her to accept Lucas’s proposal. Because she knew she did not deserve to gain by Spiro’s death. He had been a good friend for many years, as a student and after. Yet she had not contacted him in over four years because he had invited his uncle to the opening of his art gallery without telling her, and told Lucas that she’d put up the capital for Spiro’s venture. Worse, she could not shake the notion that if she had not given Spiro the money to go to New York when he had, he might not have contracted the disease that had killed him. But the fact that Lucas the devil had won did nothing to soothe her anger.

That weekend, at Lucas’s insistence, she had taken him to her father’s house in Surrey, and dropped the bombshell of her forthcoming marriage the following Saturday. Lucas had charmed Sir David and his wife Mildred so much so that Mildred had insisted on throwing an engagement party. Amber had been glad to get back to work on the Monday and away from Lucas, who had business in New York for a few days. But then she’d had the unenviable task of lunching with Clive and telling him she was marrying Lucas Karadines. She had felt an absolute worm by the time they had parted, because she hadn’t been able to tell Clive the real reason for her hasty marriage, and he’d taken her rejection with a brave smile and an honest desire that they remain friends.

Then mid-week she’d discovered Lucas had spoken to the chairman of Brentford’s. The firm had given her three months’ holiday. When she had discovered from one of the other partners why, she had been furious and deeply hurt in equal proportions.

She heard the doorbell ring. They were flying out to Greece today and tomorrow was their wedding day. ‘Unfortunately,’ Amber muttered darkly, smoothing the fine buttercup silk summer dress she had chosen to wear over her slender hips, and, taking a deep, calming breath, she walked out of the living room, along the hall and opened the front door.

Lucas stood on the path, tall and dark, and the expression on his strong face was one of amusement. ‘I don’t believe it—you live in a country cottage with roses around the door. It is not you at all, Amber,’ he drawled mockingly.

Put out by his opening comment, Amber snapped, ‘How the hell would you know?’ Her heart had leapt at the sight of him—she had not seen him since last Sunday.

A green polo shirt fit snugly over his wide shoulders, and outlined the musculature of his broad chest in loving detail. Khaki cotton trousers clung to his hips and long legs. A pair of sunglasses was shoved carelessly back across the thick black hair of his head, revealing his perfect features in stark beauty. It wasn’t fair; no man should look so good. Even the summer sun glinting on the silver wings of his hair only enhanced his vibrant masculine charm.

Lucas straightened. ‘As I recall I know you very well.’ His dark eyes roamed over her face and down over her shapely figure in a blatant sensual caress.

‘Only in the biblical sense,’ Amber returned, and, turning back into the hall, she grabbed the case she had packed and walked to the door. ‘I’m ready. Let’s go.’ She did not want to invite him into her home, because she knew her marriage to Lucas would only last as long as it took Spiro’s will to pass probate. She loved her cottage; she had bought it from her landlord three years ago, and had had great fun renovating it. She wanted no memories of Lucas to haunt it when she returned.

‘Is that all your luggage?’ Lucas demanded, one dark brow arching incredulously on the single suitcase. ‘We are getting married in the morning, we will be in Greece for at least the rest of the summer. Where are all your clothes? Surely not in that thing.’ He flung an elegant tanned hand at her admittedly rather battered suitcase.

‘Let’s get one thing straight here, Lucas. I don’t need anything special for a civil marriage that is strictly business and will be terminated as soon as possible; the dress I am wearing will do. Easy-care wash and dry as are the other clothes I have packed. I don’t need much to bum around on a Greek beach for three months, which is all I will be doing since you took it upon yourself to get my employer to give me a holiday. Understood?’ Amber told him belligerently, squaring up to him, her golden eyes flashing. If he thought for one second she was going to socialise with him, or play the part of the loving wife, or climb into his bed like a good little girl, he was in for a rude awakening.

Black eyes clashed with hers, and she saw the glint of fury before he successfully masked it with self-restraint.

‘Amber, you can walk around naked, if that is what you want,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘In fact, I would prefer you to.’ His eyes, flaring with sensual heat, roamed over her body. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, the buttercup silk dress outlining her luscious curves in loving detail. Her eyes were wide and lustrous, with just a trace of vulnerability in their golden depths that her anger could not hide. She was nowhere near as confident as she wanted to appear.

‘Oh, that is not what I mean and you know it,’ she snapped.

Lucas knew now was not the time to argue. ‘It was a joke, Amber, I hear what you are saying. A business arrangement.’

Expecting an argument, Amber was surprised at his easy agreement, and for a moment felt ridiculously disappointed. But then what had she expected? She remonstrated with her foolish heart. Lucas had not wanted her five years ago, he was hardly going to be desperate to marry her now. On that sobering thought she brushed past him, dropped the suitcase on the path, and turned to lock the door of her little cottage.

‘What exactly do you intend doing with this place?’ Lucas asked, picking up her suitcase in one hand, his other hand settling at the base of her rigid spine as he urged her away from the house.

‘Why, nothing,’ she informed him dulcetly. ‘I expect to be back at work in three months.’ Lucas wasn’t getting it all his own way. He had ridden roughshod over all her objections, charmed her father, and bribed her boss to give her a three-month sabbatical, by the simple expedient of becoming a client of Brentford’s. He might have blackmailed her into marriage, but he was definitely not blackmailing her into his bed again.

‘Well, it is a bit small, but I suppose I could get used to it,’ Lucas murmured.

Amber tensed. ‘What do you mean by that?’

His sensuous mouth tilted at the corners. ‘Why, Amber, darling, once we are married, what is mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.’

Amber’s eyes widened in astonishment at his words. ‘You’re joking.’

‘If you want us to live in a cottage rather than a mansion,’ he said, shrugging his broad shoulders. His dark eyes watched the myriad expressions flicker across her exquisite face, and then flicked appreciatively over the soft curve of her breasts, the narrow waist and on down over the slender hips and long legs. ‘I don’t mind,’ Lucas said huskily, his dark eyes dancing wickedly.

He was laughing at her; she should have been furious. ‘But—but, I—I mean you have just agreed the marriage is strictly business,’ Amber stammered to a halt. He was handsome, a rampantly virile male, and she stared at him, her breath catching in her throat.

‘I know exactly what you mean, Amber,’ Lucas emphasised dryly. ‘You are angling for a fight and I flatly refuse to give you one. Business marriage or whatever! If my competitors are to be convinced, we have to live together for as long as it takes. Now relax, the sun is shining, it is a beautiful day, and tomorrow will be even better. Get in the car and let’s go.’ With a broad grin he urged her out onto the road and into the passenger seat of a black BMW.

She watched him through lowered lashes as he slid into the driving seat after depositing her suitcase in the back. Why had she even imagined for a moment that she would be able to resist Lucas, deny him her body? If he wanted her he only had to smile at her, and she was lost. Why had she even tried to pretend she hated him? She loved him, and the realisation of exactly how vulnerable she was hurt like hell. But it made her all the more determined to defy him.

Starting the car, Lucas turned his dark head and smiled at her again. ‘I have a surprise for you when we get to the airport.’

Her own vulnerability to his blatant masculine charm made her respond with biting sarcasm. ‘Let’s hope it is the same surprise as the last time you said that to me. You are marrying someone else…’

Lucas stiffened, his smile vanishing, his dark eyes staring straight ahead, watching the road. Amber noticed the dull stain of red on his cheekbones and for a second thought he was embarrassed until he spoke. ‘No, this time it has to be you. I have no choice.’

Amber opened her mouth to argue and stopped. Shrinking back in the seat, she let her thoughts loose, and winced at her own conceit. She had been so incensed at being conned into marrying Lucas, convinced she was making a great sacrifice for her family; she had never thought for a moment how Lucas had to feel. He had loved his first wife, Christina, and now because of Spiro’s will he was stuck with either trusting Amber, or marrying her. His only other alternative was facing a takeover battle for his business.

A very chastened Amber said, ‘It is not too late. We don’t have to marry. You can trust me to give you Spiro’s legacy, Lucas. I won’t betray you.’

A large tanned hand dropped from the wheel to curve over her thigh. Involuntarily her leg flexed, electric sensation tingling down to her toes. Lucas shot her a deep and unfathomable look.

‘Sorry, Amber,’ he said softly, ‘but I do have to marry you.’ With a brief squeeze of her leg, he returned his hand to the steering wheel.

With her thigh still burning from his touch, she couldn’t think of a thing to say. She closed her eyes to be alone with her thoughts. He had said sorry. Did he mean he was sorry for her? Or sorry for himself because he had to marry her?

Trying to fathom out how Lucas’s mind worked was doing her head in, and, opening her eyes, she looked out of the passenger window and realised they were approaching the airport.