Jacqueline Baird - Mediterranean Tycoons - Masterful & Married

It was no idle threat, and the really scary part was that Amber had no doubt he could destroy her career with a few chosen words to her most influential clients. ‘Your threat is unnecessary. I have no intention of marrying Spiro.’

Amber’s golden gaze roamed over Lucas as though she were seeing him for the first time. He stood in the entrance door, tall and broad and as still as a statue carved in stone. She registered the soft wool sweater moulding the muscles of his broad chest, the hip-hugging jeans. Raising her gaze, she noted the thick black hair, the broad forehead, the perfectly chiselled features—he was incredibly handsome, but his face was hard, cold, the inner man hidden. One thumb casually hooked his leather jacket over a shoulder, but there was nothing casual about the man. Spiro had called him a shark and Amber finally realised it was true.

It was a revelation to Amber’s bruised heart. Lucas thought he loved Christina, but it was not what Amber considered love to be. It was no great consuming passion on Lucas’s part, he was incapable of the emotion. He had simply planned to fall in love with Christina with the same ruthless efficiency he planned a takeover bid. Christina simply met his criteria for a wife. Amber’s golden eyes met his, black and not a glimmer of human warmth in their depths, just a ruthless determination to succeed be it business or private, family or friend. He was incapable of differentiating between them. How had she ever thought she loved this cold, frighteningly austere man?

‘If you knew your nephew a little better, or at all,’ Amber said softly, one perfectly arched brow lifting eloquently, ‘you would have realised he was only winding you up when he said it. Now please go.’

With the door closed behind him, Amber silently added, If Lucas allowed anyone to know him, he might possibly develop into a halfway decent human being. But she had a suspicion he never had, and he was too old to change now.

Three weeks later in the same Monday morning paper Amber viewed the wedding photo of Lucas and Christina with a cynical smile. She read the gossip that went with it, the gist of it being that there were great celebrations at the high society wedding in Athens and the joining together of two great Greek families, not to mention the amalgamation of two international corporations to make one of the top leisure companies in the world.

Amber settled into her small house, bought a neat Ford car to drive into work, and as the days and weeks went past tried to put her disastrous love affair out of her mind. During the day she could block Lucas out of her thoughts with work. But at night she was haunted by memories of the sheer magic of his lovemaking—only it hadn’t been love, she had to keep reminding herself, and then the tears would fall. The only thing that kept Amber from a nervous breakdown over the next year was her growing relationship with her father. The news she had wanted to tell Lucas so eagerly, after lunching with Sir David Janson.

Two weeks after Lucas Karadines had left her, Amber had met Sir David again for lunch at a restaurant in Covent Garden. Much to Amber’s surprise his wife Mildred had accompanied him. It could have been embarrassing, but Mildred quickly explained she did not blame her husband or Amber’s mother. At the time Mildred had left her husband and two children and had lived with another man for over a year. Sir David had found solace with his secretary and Amber was the result.

Sir David quite happily acknowledged Amber as his daughter, saying a certain notorious Member of Parliament had recognised an illegitimate daughter without any ill effect, so why shouldn’t he? It was a one-day wonder in the papers, and his family—a married daughter and a much older son—were equally welcoming.

But Amber refused to take a job with her father’s company. Her feminine intuition told her she shouldn’t. Sir David’s son, Mark Janson, accepted her in the family, but as heir apparent to the business he was nowhere near so happy about having her in his father’s firm. Especially as Sir David told all and sundry Amber had obviously inherited her skill in the money markets from him.

FIVE years later…

As Monday mornings went, this had to be one of the worst, Amber thought sadly. She’d just returned from two weeks’ holiday in Tuscany at her father’s villa feeling relaxed, and revitalised. June in Italy was beautiful; unfortunately June in London was rain, the stock market had dropped three per cent, and now this…

Her long fingers tapped restlessly on the document lying on the desk. She’d read the letter countless times, but she still could not quite believe it. The letter was from a firm of lawyers in New York, the lawyers dealing with the estate of the late Spiro Karadines. It was dated eleven days ago. Spiro had died the day before, apparently, and it was informing her of the time and place of his funeral in Greece, and a legal document in the usual lawyer speak that ‘Amber Jackson may learn something to her advantage’. Amber didn’t think so… Spiro was trouble…

A sad, reminiscent smile curved her wide mouth. It was four years since she’d last seen him, and they had not parted on the best of terms.

She had gone to New York for the grand opening of his art gallery. Spiro had been so excited as he had shown Amber around the exhibition. It had been incredible, or perhaps unbelievable was a better word, Amber had thought privately. Spiro had told her the artists whose work was on display were all up and coming in the modern art world. To Amber’s untrained eyes it looked more as if they had been and gone… Gone crazy…

‘Are you sure about this stuff?’ she had asked Spiro, recoiling from a massive red and green painting that appeared to be bits of body parts.

‘Yes, don’t worry, in half an hour people will be fighting over these paintings. Trust me!’

Her smooth brow pleated in a frown as she fiddled with the letter on her desk. She’d trusted Spiro when he had assured her that if she gave him the money from the sale of the loft apartment to start his art gallery, he would never tell Lucas, and return it with interest when he came into his inheritance a year later. He had persuaded her that charity could wait, and, being honest, Amber admitted she had thought it was poetic justice, letting Spiro have the money as it was Karadines money after all. He had also told her Lucas would not be at the opening. Spiro had lied on both counts…

Although it had been over a year since she’d last seen Lucas, the gut-wrenching pain she had felt when she’d turned around from viewing the ‘Body Parts’ painting to find him, and Christina his wife, his pregnant wife, standing behind her had been almost unbearable.

She’d glanced at Spiro, and seen the devilment in his eyes, and known he had done it deliberately. Shifting her gaze to the couple, she’d made the obligatory greeting portraying a sophistication she had not felt. She’d even managed to congratulate the pair on their forthcoming happy event. But she’d been shaken so badly she’d had to clasp her hands behind her back to hide their trembling.

But Lucas had had no such problem. His eyes had slid over her with cool insolence, stripping away the stylish green silk sheath dress she’d worn to the flesh beneath, but Amber had forced herself to withstand his scrutiny, and done some scrutinising of her own. Thick dark hair had curled down over the collar of his impeccably tailored light linen suit, he’d been leaner than he had been the last time she had seen him, his features slightly more fine drawn, but as devastatingly attractive as ever, until he’d spoken.

‘It seems congratulations are in order for you too, Amber. Spiro tells me you are his partner and put up most of the money for this little venture,’ Lucas said smoothly. ‘A remarkable achievement for a young woman. Your passion…’ his hesitation was deliberate ‘…for finance must be truly exceptional,’ he opined with mocking cynicism.