Читать книгу The Millionaire's Virgin - Sophie Weston - Страница 15

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘LISA—’

Lisa blenched as Tino sprang to his feet.

She felt sick… sick and stupid all at once. It wasn’t a feeling that crept up on her as she gazed around the room Maria had directed her to; it hit her straight in the stomach like a blow.

The men gathered around the boardroom table were all in business suits—lightweight, but formal nonetheless. Tino, of course, was dressed casually, but in his own particular style that denoted rank as well as authority. His jeans were expensive, his shirt beautifully tailored, and as always he was immaculately groomed. His thick, wavy black hair—the same glossy black hair she had laced her fingers through, moulding the scalp beneath with an urgency approaching frenzy when he had made love to her; that hair— was swept back from his handsome brow and was still slightly damp, as if he had only just emerged from the shower after his swim…

Everyone was staring at her… and these were hard-bitten men, her men, along with Tino’s board of directors—chosen for their business acumen, not for their compassion. She was horribly exposed—without make-up, her hair casually arranged, her feet bare, her clothes simple.

To Tino’s credit, he came around the table to her at once.

‘Excuse us, gentlemen. I will be back with you shortly.’

Guiding her out, he closed the door behind them quietly and leaned back against it, as if to ensure they could not be followed.

Lisa managed, ‘I didn’t realise—’ before Tino shut his eyes, as if he accepted part of the blame… as if she should have known, as if the moment she had walked into the room had been as agonising for him as it had been for her.

‘No one could find you. Where the hell were you?’

‘In the garden.’ Her voice was shaking. ‘In the kitchen, and then back in your room.’

‘They must have missed you. I tried to find you, Lisa, to warn you I’d set up an emergency meeting—I sent people to find you.’

‘I don’t understand… What’s everyone doing here?’

‘You wanted this deal so badly… I thought if I brought everyone over—’ He stopped and looked at a point somewhere over her head. ‘I wanted to give you the best chance. My people have identified a better deal with Clifton—but you already know that.’

‘Tino?’ Her voice sounded small, and wounded, and Lisa hated herself for the weakness, but she wasn’t in charge of her body now, or her powers of speech.

‘You’d better go and get changed—’

Tino sounded so cool, so businesslike, so logical… so distant…

‘I will call for coffee—it will distract them,’ he said, as if he was thinking out loud. ‘By the time you return, they will have forgotten. When you come back, they will have forgotten what they saw, and think only of business, of the money to be made.’

There was nothing in his eyes for her, Lisa realised. Nothing. Even now that he was looking straight at her, there was nothing there, nothing at all… She might have imagined what had happened between them the previous night for all the recognition there was in that stare. It was back to business. ‘You’re quite sure of all this, are you, Tino?’ she said coldly. ‘You’re quite sure they will have forgotten what a fool I just made of myself?’ She hardened her mouth, her face, her mind, and her heart, kicking herself back into cold, emotion-free business mode. Jack Bond was right, after all—there was no room for emotion in business.

‘I’ll be back in exactly a quarter of an hour,’ she said briskly when Tino didn’t say a word. ‘I’ll want to start the meeting promptly, so see the coffee is cleared away by then.’

Lisa spent the rest of that day with her head buried in figures, balance sheets and predictions. She had never welcomed them more.

Tino was right about one thing: there had been a brief tension when she’d walked back into the room. But once she was safely dressed in business armour—sharp suit, crisp white blouse, heels clacking in a steady, reassuring rhythm across the marble floor—her confidence had quickly been restored. Everyone could see that everything was back to normal: her hair neatly dressed in its customary chignon, her lips carefully outlined in peach, her make-up applied with a steady hand… Only her heart was in pieces, and that was the one thing no one could see.

Lisa had her head bent over the document under discussion and was almost caught out when everyone around her started shuffling papers. The meeting was over. She added a few last thoughts to cover for her abstraction, and then tensed when Tino had the final word…

‘I would like you all to be my guests this evening at dinner. Shall we say nine o’ clock, gentlemen… and Lisa?’

He didn’t look at her directly. She might have been someone he had only just met, another suit who had come to Stellamaris on the same flight as the rest. She added her own half-hearted grunt to the general murmur of acceptance, and then, collecting up her things, she started to load her briefcase.

‘Lisa.’

Lisa flinched even though it was only her PA, Mike, calling to her. She was a bundle of nerves on top of everything else. That was what happened when you let your guard down—everything went to pieces. She turned around smiling, mask in place—or so she thought. Mike quickly drew her out of earshot.

‘Shit, Lis’! What’s happened?’

Lisa stared in amazement. Mike… beautiful Mike, with his astute blue eyes, carefully shaped brows, and expensive highlights neatly sculpted to his gorgeous, gorgeous face, never swore, never called her by a pet name, even though they had known each other for years. Was it that obvious? ‘Is it obvious, Mike?’ she asked him in a tense whisper, glancing around.

Taking her arm, he turned her so she faced the wall, so they both did. He put his head very close to hers, and put his arm around her protectively. ‘Are you OK, Lisa? Can I do anything for you?’

What was happening to her? Lisa wondered, fighting back tears. Was she falling apart? She felt a handkerchief pressed into her hands, and nodded briskly, applying it to her mascaraed eyes as cautiously as was practicable when you were mopping up a waterfall.

‘No, that’s fine—you keep it,’ Mike said when she absent- mindedly attempted to hand the ruined silk back to him.

She made a mental note to buy him a dozen more to replace it the moment she got back home.

‘Lisa!’ Mike hissed imperatively out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Can I do anything for you, anything at all? Can I get you out of here?’

She saw the sense in that. ‘Yes, please, Mike, that would be great.’

Putting a shielding arm out in front of her face, Mike swept them both out of the room as only he could, with élan, with chin tipped at a formidable angle, as if he were protecting the Queen of England from unwanted attention.

‘That was a great exit,’ Lisa admitted shakily when they reached the drive. Taxis were pulling up ready to take the men back to the Zagorakis guest house.

‘Your voice is still wobbly,’ Mike observed, ‘and your face is a mess.’

‘Thank you for your honesty—I think.’

‘Someone has to be honest with you, Lisa.’

Lisa turned to look at him. ‘You’re right. I value your opinion… You do know that, don’t you?’

‘Thank you,’ he said, preening a little. ‘It’s always nice to hear that you do.’

‘In future, I’m going to be very different.’

‘Not too different, I hope.’ Mike frowned. ‘There is a certain kudos in being the trusted advisor of one of the most difficult women in business today.’

‘Is that what they say about me?’

‘Close.’

‘Hmm.’ Lisa nodded thoughtfully. ‘Actually, Mike, there is something else you could do for me.’

‘Name it,’ he said frankly.

‘Sit next to me tonight. I’ve had enough of Zagorakis’s attempts to manipulate me.’

‘It would be my pleasure.’

Lisa chose the most glamorous gown she could find amongst her new clothes. It was a lacy confection that fell off one shoulder, and had a short tight skirt with a flirty tail that kicked out at one side. She brushed her hair until it gleamed like silk, and applied her make-up with unusual care—too much of it…

Far too much of it, Lisa decided, staring into the mirror. She could hear her father’s sneering voice; it still haunted her. ‘Your mother always wore too much make-up when she was upset.’

‘And I wonder why that was, Daddy?’ Lisa muttered, slapping cleansing cream onto her face.

Slipping out of the dress, she left it on the floor. Pulling on her own suit trousers and her own sensible shoes, she weakened as far as a plain ivory silk shirt was concerned when it came to plundering the collection of new clothes in her wardrobe. And that was only because she knew the evening would be warm even if they were seated outside, and she couldn’t bear to be stifling in a jacket—and her own white blouse had already been taken from the room to be laundered.

She collected her hair in a loose pony-tail at the nape of her neck. Nothing too frivolous; nothing that could be construed as an attempt to win anyone’s attention. Face tonic to freshen up, and then some tinted moisturiser, and a slick of lip-gloss. She confined herself to a smidgen of mascara, and a spritz of perfume later she was ready—just at the moment Mike knocked on the door.

He looked fantastic, as always. Lisa felt dowdy by comparison— and clearly looked it too, from Mike’s disappointed expression.

‘Oh, no… No, no, no,’ he exclaimed, shaking his head. ‘The minute we get back home, I’m taking you in hand.’

‘I look that bad?’

‘You look like a sleek, beautiful leopard masquerading as a mouse.’

‘As good as that?’

‘Shall we?’ Mike said, offering her his arm.

Tino glanced at her, and then looked away as she walked arm in arm with Mike onto the patio. The other men were already sipping drinks, and hadn’t noticed her at all. Waiters were moving amongst the small gathering with canapés, and more drinks, and absolutely everyone was in

dinner suits, including Tino.

‘You know what?’ Mike whispered in her ear.

‘What?’

‘You look as out of place now as you did when you walked into the boardroom earlier today. Why don’t we about-turn, and I’ll sort you out?’

‘Are you serious?’ He clearly was, Lisa realised, when Mike wheeled her away.

As she opened the door of the first wardrobe Mike threw up his hands in a paroxysm of delight.

‘Designer heaven!’ He flicked expertly along the rail. ‘We’ll take this, and this… Oh, and this.’ Holding the gossamer-fine beaded and sequinned shawl up close against his Ozwald Boateng jacket, he sighed theatrically.

Closing her eyes briefly, Lisa shook her head and smiled. She wasn’t going to get out of the room again until Mike had his way—she might as well give in.

‘Mike, you’re my fairy godmother,’ Lisa exclaimed a little while later, staring transfixed at her reflection in the full-length mirror.

‘Fairy godsister, please… Well, what do you think?’

‘What do you think is more to the point,’ Lisa said, turning around to smile at him.

‘Well, that brute of a Greek isn’t going to ignore you now, that’s for sure,’ he said with satisfaction, offering Lisa his arm.

Mike made her pause just inside the door where the light was a little brighter than on the patio. There wasn’t quite an audible gasp, but there might as well have been. Every man had turned to stare.

Mike had dressed her hair high so that she looked taller than usual, and a few softening tendrils had been allowed to escape around her carefully made-up face. Mike had designed her make-up too, to complete the ‘look’, as he called it, with all the care he might have applied to one of his famously fabulous room settings. Her eyes were smoky, her lashes black… Her lips were full and glossy red, and there was just a hint of rouge to define her cheekbones—the end result? She looked like something out of Vogue or Tatler— anyway, quite unlike herself, Lisa decided.

She had never gone for full-on glamour in her life before, but, of course, Mike did nothing by halves. The strappy sandals he’d insisted she wear had stratospheric heels, and the dress he had chosen was cut, appropriately enough, with a nod to ancient Grecian styling. Cunningly draped, it fitted where it touched, and was extremely elegant, yet sexy— with a slit up the side to a point where Lisa felt quite a draft, especially as Mike had specifically ruled out the wearing of underwear.

Seeing Tino swallow, she rejoiced.

‘Up yours, Zagorakis,’ Mike murmured, showing his own feelings were somewhat less subtle.

‘Mike, please,’ Lisa whispered, finding a smile had crept onto her own lips. ‘Gentlemen,’ she said casually, dipping her head minutely to acknowledge everyone.

There was a stampede to be the first to find her a drink, a canapé, a seat if she wanted one; only Tino stood back, his face a mask she couldn’t read.

The evening was delightful, the food delicious—or that would have been the press-release version, Lisa realised cynically, glancing at Tino. Having chosen a seat as far away from her as possible, he was deep in conversation with his financial director.

‘I shall sulk.’

Lisa turned as Mike spoke to her.

‘I’ve gone to all this trouble and you’re staring at him like a lovesick ninny. Honestly, Lisa, if he wasn’t so gorgeous, I’d be quite put out.’

‘I’m sorry, Mike.’ She touched his arm. ‘Was I being so obvious?’

‘Well, luckily for you, he didn’t notice. He’s far too busy talking business.’

‘Time to mingle again,’ she suggested.

The dinner was over, last dregs of coffee and brandy had been drunk. Mike half rose—Lisa stopped him, putting her hand on his arm. ‘Mike, can I come back with you to the guest house?’

‘Of course… but why?’

‘Well, I’ve been staying here at the villa.’

‘I know.’

‘And now…’

Mike held his hands up to silence her. ‘You don’t have to say another word—as long as you’re quite sure about this?’

Lisa followed Mike’s gaze to where she could see Tino turning on the charm. He looked fiendishly fabulous: stronger, taller, and more interesting than any other man present, talking easily to everyone, except her. She caught a flash of white teeth as he responded to another man’s comment, and then a fierce, black-eyed stare when he caught her looking at him. ‘I’m absolutely sure.’

‘OK, then, but we have to brave the receiving line, or whatever the opposite of that might be,’ Mike informed her briskly. ‘Come along, darling, everyone else is starting to leave now. You just stay with me, and I’ll see you through it safely.’

There were some things even Mike couldn’t fix.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Tino said.

‘I’m going to the guest house with Mike.’

Instead of arguing with her, Tino took hold of Mike’s elbow, and drew him to one side, leaving Lisa standing alone out of earshot. And when Mike half turned to her, Tino put his hand on his arm and drew him back again to say something more. To Lisa’s amazement, Mike, her right- hand man, her PA, her friend, walked away without another word, and when she tried to go after him Tino caught hold of her arm and held her back.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded, looking down at his hand on her arm.

‘I might ask you the same question,’ he replied icily.

‘It’s clear you don’t want me here, so I’m going to where I am wanted.’

‘You’re talking like a spoiled brat, Lisa.’

He led her back inside the house, and closed the door. ‘Did you have to make such an exhibition of yourself?’

‘Do you have to hold my arm so tightly?’

He released her immediately. ‘You’d better come into my study and we’ll talk there.’

‘We’ve nothing to discuss.’

‘So, this is the thanks I get?’

‘Thanks? For what?’ Lisa demanded incredulously. ‘For making a fool out of me?’ She tried to push past him and go outside again to find Mike, but he blocked the door.

‘All this is for you, Lisa.’

‘And you didn’t think to tell me you had called my people over?’

‘I wanted to surprise you.’

‘Well, you certainly did that.’

‘I tried to find you… I tried to warn you they were here, but no one knew where you were.’

Lisa smiled bitterly. ‘Maybe because I was doing something for you.’

‘What?’

‘It really doesn’t matter now.’ She reached past him to the door handle. ‘Let me out of here now, Tino.’

‘Or what?’

‘I call for the police, and tell them you’re holding me against my will?’

Tino held her stare. ‘On Stellamaris, I am the police.’

‘Well, I’m happy for you. Now will you call for a taxi to take me to the guest house, or do I have to make that call?’

Seizing her arm, he marched her down the corridor towards his study. When they got inside, he slammed the door and stood with his back to it. ‘Would you mind telling me what all this is about?’ His angry gesture encompassed every inch of Lisa, from her beautifully coiffed hair to her shell-pink toenails peeping out of the glamorous sandals, and before she could answer he added, ‘Did you have to make such a show of yourself in front of all those men?’

‘Are you jealous, Tino?’

‘Jealous? Of a tramp?’

Her stinging blow caught him full on the face, shooting his head back. He stared at her in total disbelief, nursing his chin.

Lisa could hardly believe what she had done. She hated violence of any sort. She despised it. And now she had sunk to the lowest level possible. It didn’t matter that Tino thoroughly deserved it; nothing would ever excuse such a loss of control. ‘I should never have done that.’

‘You pack quite a punch.’ He nursed his chin.

‘That was unforgivable.’ She had never lost control before, not even to the extent where she had cursed at someone. She didn’t know herself any more, and she didn’t like the person she had become.

‘I’m sorry too.’

She looked at him.

‘I shouldn’t have called you those names.’

They were apologising to each other? What was happening? They had plumbed the extremes of emotion together, and now the carefully controlled Tino Zagorakis was bending towards the equally unyielding Lisa Bond?

‘Stay on.’

‘What?’ Now she was astonished.

‘Stay on at the Villa Aphrodite until Friday, as we agreed. We haven’t finished our discussions yet—and this is a big place, Lisa. I’ll keep out of your way; you keep out of mine.’

If there had only been business between them, that would have made perfect sense… And there was only business between them, Lisa reminded herself. Tino had just made that clear. So, why couldn’t she stay?

But where had it all gone? Where had all the passion and tenderness gone? If this was the life expectancy of the average love affair, she could do without them. She should have known the closeness between them was only an illusion. As Jack Bond had said when he’d thrown earth on her mother’s coffin: ‘Any woman who expects too much out of life is destined to be disappointed.’