Amber bowed her head for a moment, the long curtain of her hair hiding her face from his glittering gaze. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut to hold back the tears. She disgusted him, he had said, and yet she was only what he had made her, and in that instant the new Amber was born.
Swiping back the mass of hair from her face, she rose to her feet. Ignoring Lucas’s looming presence, she picked up her briefs and leggings and, turning her back on him, took her time about putting them on. Then, straightening her shoulders, she turned to face him.
She lifted hard golden eyes to his. ‘What are you waiting for?’ she demanded bluntly. She was furiously angry at the undisguised contempt in his expression. But she refused to show it. ‘I thought a man of your high moral values would be long gone,’ she mocked him. She had learnt her lesson well. Never again in this life, she vowed, would she show any man how she really felt.
‘The floor show is over,’ she said facetiously. ‘If you’re hoping for a repeat performance, forget it—go back to Christina and I wish you both joy. Though I have a suspicion you will not find her quite the pure, malleable little bed partner and wife you imagine. After all, she already knows you have a mistress—’ she wanted to hurt him, dent his arrogant pride ‘—and she doesn’t care, which must tell you something.’
She had gone too far. He stepped towards her, his hand lifted as if to hit her. Involuntarily she flinched and stepped back.
‘No.’ His hand fell to his side, his fingers curling into a fist, his knuckles white with strain. ‘You are a lying little bitch.’ Amber knew he would never believe her or forgive her for her comments. ‘And you will never speak to my fiancée or mention her name again.’
Amber stared at him, her anger dying fast as his glance roamed contemptuously over her. There was sheer hatred in his eyes, and a clear message he would not touch her again if his life depended on it. But then she already knew that, she thought sadly. The last half-hour had been nothing more than animal attraction fuelled by rage on his part. He didn’t want her love, never had… The realisation was the end of everything for Amber. ‘Just go,’ she said wearily, brushing past him towards the door. Good manners decreed she see him out, she thought, and had to choke back hysterical laughter.
She opened the door and held it. Lucas reached out to grasp her arm, but she pulled away. ‘Goodbye, Lucas.’ The finality in her tone was unmistakable.
He went rigid. ‘Not so fast, you still have not given me the promise I asked for. I…I want your word you will not marry Spiro.’
She was sick at heart and halfway to being physically sick. ‘Okay.’
‘I mean it, Amber,’ Lucas said with deadly emphasis. ‘If you marry him your life will not be worth living, and you will find no solace in your work, that I promise.’ The taut line of his mouth gave way to a thin cruel smile as he paused. ‘I will personally make sure no one in the financial world will ever employ you again.’ He had to convince her for his own sanity to break all ties with Spiro. If the last hour had taught him anything it was that there was no way on God’s earth Lucas trusted himself to be in the company of Amber ever again. Not even a simple social occasion, or he was in danger of succumbing to the same sickening addiction to sex his mother had suffered from. The realisation of his own weakness shocked and horrified him, and he reacted with the same icy determination that made him a ruthlessly successful businessman. ‘I will totally destroy the career you love, and, believe me, I can and will do it.’
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