The Greek's Blackmailed Wife

‘In name only,’ Lauranne said stiffly and Mary shook her head.

“I’ve never heard you speak to a client like that before—’

‘He isn’t a client,’ Lauranne said shortly and Mary glanced at Tom, her confusion evident.

‘But he’s probably the richest man in the world. And this is just the sort of challenge that you both love,’ she pointed out. ‘Everyone thinks Volakis is ruthless and cold and this is your chance to prove that underneath that controlled exterior lurks a warm, beating heart.’

If it hadn’t been so painful, Lauranne would have laughed.

A warm, beating heart?

This was the man who had destroyed her life. He’d taken her innocent dreams and crushed them with the same ruthless lack of emotion that he applied to his business dealings.

He hadn’t believed in her—

For a moment the pain and hurt threatened to choke her and she struggled to control her emotions, reminding herself how far she’d come since that dreadful summer five years before.

She wasn’t going to let one kiss destroy that, however passionate.

‘Zander Volakis doesn’t have a heart. He is exactly the way he appears in the press,’ she said shakily. ‘He is cold-hearted and ruthless and there is nothing I or anyone else can possibly do for his public image.’

She was breathing so rapidly that she thought her lungs might explode.

Mary was still staring open-mouthed. ‘I can’t believe you know him—’

Lauranne felt her eyes fill and she shook her head in denial. ‘I never knew him.’

She’d thought she did, but she’d been proved wrong in the most agonising, humiliating way possible.

Even now her naïvety made her blush. How could she have truly believed that a man as sophisticated and experienced as Zander Volakis would want any more from her than a brief fling? How could she have convinced herself that there was more to the relationship than sizzling sex? The man was Greek to the very backbone. His concept of relationships was different from hers. He still believed in virgin brides, mistresses and vengeance for acts of wrong.

Vengeance—

Lauranne closed her eyes, her face losing still more of its colour as she remembered the merciless way he’d dealt with her. He’d been cold and unapproachable, refusing even to listen to her. It was as if they’d never been intimate. As far as he was concerned she’d betrayed him and that was the end of it. There was no explanation that he was willing to listen to.

And seeing him so remote had hurt so badly she’d thought she’d die of the pain.

Lauranne opened her eyes. She hadn’t died. She was still here and she wasn’t going to

let Zander Volakis destroy her a second time.

Tom glared at her. ‘Tell me you won’t be here at seven-thirty.’

‘I won’t.’ Her heart rate accelerated as she remembered his promise to find her. If he wanted a chase then he was going to get one.

Tom relaxed slightly. ‘And don’t go home, either. You’d be too easy to find. Take my advice. Lose yourself in London. Go for a walk. Find a bar in a part of London that a style-conscious Greek billionaire wouldn’t be seen dead in. Buy a wig. Dye your hair. Put on forty kilos. Spend a few nights in a seedy hotel.’

Lauranne gave a wan smile. ‘And we both know that running will just make him more determined to find me. That’s the way his mind works. Zander Volakis doesn’t ever lose.’

But she was going to make it hard for him.

She closed her eyes briefly and sucked in a breath. What exactly did he want from her? Why would he want her to work for him? She’d already done that, five years before…

* * *

Landing a job in the public relations department of Volakis Industries immediately after she’d left university had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. Lauranne had started in the London office, learning the ropes, developing a feel for the breadth of the Volakis business empire along with three other graduates, one of whom had been Tom Farrer.

As for Zander Volakis himself, she hadn’t seen him. Like all the other women who worked for him, she’d drooled over his picture in the front of the annual report but hadn’t had any expectations of actually meeting him in person. With offices in all the major capitals of the world, he’d flown in for meetings and left again, maintaining a punishing schedule that had left little time for mingling with anyone but his most senior staff.