He lifted a hand and caught hold of her chin. ‘Eat, yes. Go, no.’ He stressed silkily, and his thumb traced a semicircle up her chin, over her full lips and back down to slide to where the pulse beat heavily in her throat. ‘Forget last night. Forget our fight. And remember only this appetite.’ Alex tapped the pulse-beat in her throat, his head lowered and his lips brushed her cheek and the edge of her mouth. ‘This appetite you and I will always share, Lisa.’ She looked at him, the tug of sexual awareness impossible to deny. ‘But do not underestimate me, Lisa. If I find you have betrayed my trust I can be a ruthless enemy, your worst nightmare.’ It was the very softness of his tone that was enough to convince Lisa he was speaking the truth.
‘And what of your betrayal?’ she managed to retaliate.
Alex’s eyes hardened fractionally. ‘The question will not arise; you can trust me absolutely.’ He caught hold of her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘With this ring I thee wed’ he repeated softly, and kissed the ring on her finger. ‘I keep my promises. Be sure to keep yours, and we will have no more problems.’ Dropping her hand, he also dropped a swift kiss on the top of her head. ‘Rest. You look tired.’
‘Thanks for the compliment.’
‘Sarcasm does not become you, Lisa,’ Alex opined dryly. ‘See you tonight, and remember we are dining with my father.’ Turning he opened the door and left.
Deprived of any chance to retaliate, she stood for a moment staring at the closed door. Alex was right in one respect. She did not relish the idea of returning home a failure, her marriage over after only a few weeks. Then there was still the problem of Nigel. It went against her nature to give in to blackmail, but it occurred to her that if Alex actually meant to destroy her stepfamily, that meant Harold. She could not keep Lawson’s without Harold, so common sense told her she was better to stay where she was until she discovered exactly what was going on.
Lisa made her way back to the kitchen. Mrs Blaydon was putting toast in the electric toaster, and her smile was warm as she watched Lisa walk over to the breakfast table and sit down. Lisa filled a cup with coffee and took a much needed drink of the reviving brew.
‘Scrambled eggs on toast all right for you, Mrs Solomos.’
Lisa replaced the cup on the table. ‘Just toast, thanks.’
‘Like my Bert; that’s all he ever has.’
‘Bert is your husband, then?’ Lisa asked making idle conversation, as the older woman placed a plate of toast in front of her.
‘Yes, married thirty-five years, and for the last fifteen we have worked for Mr Alex. He was twenty-one and still a student at university when he moved in here. He gave Bert and I the apartment below, and we’ve looked after the penthouse for him. He hasn’t been around as much the last few years, but he still keeps us on to take care of all his visitors, and Bert acts as the official Solomos chauffeur when he’s needed. Mr Alex usually drives himself, but then the man does everything himself; he’s a real workaholic. Of course, that father of his is no help. Always in the newspapers for all the wrong reasons.’
‘I haven’t actually met Alex’s father yet. Apparently I am to have that honour tonight,’ Lisa cut in having finished her food.
‘Some honour! The man hasn’t done a hand’s turn in years, and yet to hear the old fool going on in the media, he’s a brilliant businessman. Brilliant is as brilliant does, I say,’ the housekeeper ended bluntly.
Lisa drained her coffee cup and stood up. ‘Well, no doubt I shall discover for myself tonight, but right now I’d better get down to work.’
‘Oh, no, you can’t do any housework. That’s my job.’
‘Not housework.’ Lisa corrected the housekeeper with a smile. ‘But I do run a business in Stratford-upon-Avon. I’ve brought my computer with me, and I’m going to commandeer the first guest room for my office, if that’s all right with you. Don’t worry, Mrs Blaydon, I won’t interfere with your work. Why don’t you finish up here? It’s a beautiful sunny day; you and Bert can have the day off.’
‘Well, if you’re sure.’ Mrs Blaydon’s pleasure was evident.
‘Yes.’ Lisa smiled, getting to her feet. ‘But if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get to work.’
In a matter of minutes she was seated at the desk in the room where she had spent the night, her laptop on, planning her defence. Buying the Lee shares was her safest option, but it didn’t take Lisa long to realise she was paper rich but cash poor. Next, she checked everywhere she could think of to find the name of the company that had made the offer to buy Lawson’s before her mother died. If she needed a white knight to help her fight off Alex’s takeover attempt, that bidder seemed a good bet. At least that company hadn’t wanted to flatten the place. After an hour she gave up in disgust. Perhaps the letter of refusal had never been filed on the computer; given the shock of her mother’s illness at the time, it wasn’t surprising. It would have to wait until she got back to the office on Monday, it might be in her mother’s private papers, and Lisa was the only one with access to them.
As the morning progressed, Lisa fought against recalling last night’s events, but she failed. She was mulling over her own ambivalence about the situation when Mrs Blaydon burst into the room, closely followed by two men.
‘I was on my way out when these two men arrived. It’s for you, from Mr Alex.’
‘That’s fine, Mrs Blaydon.’ She watched the old woman scurry off with a smile on her face. To say Lisa was astonished was an understatement. Alex had sent her a state-of-the-art computer, and the accompanying card read. ‘I hope this will keep you at home.’
Lisa shared a smile with the two young delivery men, and watched with close attention as they installed the new computer. Later, she set about E-mailing Mary, and then Jed. Then she broke off for a coffee. Returning half an hour later, she got the shock of her life when she clicked on and a disembodied female voice declared, ‘You have mail.’ Her old computer hadn’t got a voice facility and she was fascinated by it.
The E-mail was a reply from Mary. ‘Congrats: but I still think diamonds are a girl’s best friend.’ Chuckling to herself, Lisa spent the rest of the morning thoroughly absorbed in her work. It was only when her stomach rumbled and she glanced at the time in the corner of the screen that she realised the morning had gone.
She couldn’t resist one more visit to the Internet, and was rewarded with ?
??You have mail’. As it was the afternoon in the UK, it had to be early morning in Montana, from where Jed was replying.
‘You lucky lady. The computer sounds great, but do I detect a trace of coolness in your attitude to the giver, and so soon??? Correct me if I am wrong. I’ll get back to you later. I have to go milk the cows.’
Something in the tone of her message must have given him an insight into her confused state of mind. That was just so Jed. For a man she had never actually met, he had an amazing sensitivity where she was concerned. She sent a brief reply: ‘Stick to analysing the cows, farm boy. I’m fine. A glimmer of a genuine smile brightened her face as she closed down the computer and wandered back through the apartment to the kitchen.
Lisa made herself a cheese sandwich and, filling a glass with milk, she placed it and the plate on a tray and took her late lunch out to the rooftop garden. It was a gorgeous sunny afternoon, and, placing the tray on a Victorian wrought-iron table, she sat down on one of the matching chairs and picked up one half of her sandwich.