Читать книгу His Reputation Precedes Him - Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 9

GOLD.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You do?’ His brow arched questioningly.

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

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

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

And she was most definitely naked beneath that gown!

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

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

‘And you are…?’

‘Eva.’

His smile was teasing. ‘Just Eva?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘And what reputation might that be…?’

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

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

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

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

Even hers?

Perhaps…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘In what way?’

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

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

‘That’s a pity.’

‘Is it?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Would it be wasted?’

‘Most definitely,’ Eva confirmed with feeling.

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

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

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

Except Eva.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even so…

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

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

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

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

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

So, no serious relationship.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logic. Not emotion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A baby of her own.

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

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

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

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

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

‘And you,’ Glen assured him warmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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