He placed the black mug carefully back on the bar beside him before walking softly, unhurriedly, across the room until he stood only inches away from her. Their gazes were almost on a level as she stood only three or four inches shorter than his own six feet and two inches in height.
‘We appear to have omitted to introduce ourselves. As you have already guessed, I am Drakon Lyonedes. And you are…?’
‘Gemini,’ she blurted out. ‘Er—Gemini Bartholomew. I’m Miles Bartholomew’s daughter.’ She thrust out a hand, her cheeks having become coloured the same beguiling rose as the fullness of her lips.
Gemini…
Drakon inwardly appreciated how well that name suited her as he took the slenderness of her hand in his much larger one. The name was as unusual and beautiful as this young woman was herself…
‘And what is it you believe that only I can do for you, Miss Bartholomew?’
Gemini felt a quiver of awareness travel the length of her spine as Drakon Lyonedes continued to hold her hand captive in his much stronger one. His skin was cool to the touch, but at the same time the huskiness of his voice seemed to wash over her senses with the warmth of a lingering caress.
Surely she must have imagined that double entendre in his question?
Even the thought that she might not have done was enough to make her aware of the fact that not only was she not prepared for the sheer physical presence of the head of Lyonedes Enterprises, but she hadn’t even begun to guess—couldn’t possibly have imagined!—the rawness of the overwhelming sexuality he exuded.
It was a raw sexuality Gemini would have preferred not to have even recognised, let alone responded to, when she had every reason to suspect that he was currently involved in an affair with the stepmother she disliked so intensely…
CHAPTER TWO
JUST the thought of her stepmother was enough to make Gemini pull her hand abruptly from Drakon’s—no doubt his hand had touched the detested Angela in ways Gemini didn’t even want to begin to imagine!
With an inward shudder she thrust her hand firmly behind her back before taking a determined step away from him. ‘There’s only one thing you can do for me, Mr Lyonedes,’ she assured him flatly. ‘And that is to withdraw the offer you’ve made to purchase Bartholomew House from my father’s widow!’
Drakon studied Gemini Bartholomew from beneath narrowed lids, noting the wings of colour that had appeared in those ivory cheeks, and the over-bright glitter of emotion now visible in her beautiful sea-green eyes as she glared at him. ‘And why, when the sale is due to be completed in only two weeks’ time, would you imagine I might wish to do that, Miss Bartholomew?’ he said slowly.
A pained frown appeared between those long-lashed aquamarine eyes. ‘Because it isn’t hers to sell, of course. To you or anyone else!’
‘I believe my legal department have checked all the necessary paperwork and are completely satisfied with their results,’ Drakon assured her smoothly, no longer completely sure what or who he was dealing with. He certainly had no one else’s word but hers that she was who she claimed to be.
From all accounts her behaviour had been less than rational ever since she’d entered the building, and the claim she had just made, along with that slightly wild glitter in those stunning Aegean-coloured eyes, would seem to imply a certain wobble in her emotional balance. Perhaps, after all, he should have heeded Markos’s advice and not agreed to meet privately with this unusual young woman?
‘I’m sure that they were.’ She now gave an impatient shake of that white-gold head. ‘When I said Bartholomew House wasn’t Angela’s to sell, I meant morally rather than legally.’
The tension in Drakon’s shoulders relaxed slightly. ‘I see,’ he murmured.
Somehow Gemini doubted that!
And she didn’t care for the way in which Drakon was now regarding her so sceptically with those piercing coal-black eyes of his from between narrowed lids.
No doubt he already thought she was slightly deranged after her behaviour in the reception area, without her now claiming that Bartholomew House wasn’t Angela’s to sell, and then admitting that it was! Except it wasn’t. How could it be, when Bartholomew House in London had been owned by a Bartholomew since—well, for ever? And Angela wasn’t really a Bartholomew. The other woman had been the second wife of Gemini’s father, and only married to him for three years before his death six months ago—how could Angela possibly begin to understand the sense of tradition, of belonging, that a Bartholomew living in Bartholomew House had given to her family for hundreds of years?
As Gemini knew only too well, it wasn’t a question of her stepmother not understanding those things; Angela didn’t want to understand them, and had made it more than clear these past few months that as she was Miles’s widow the house was legally hers. As such, she could do whatever she wanted with it. And if that involved selling Bartholomew House to Lyonedes Enterprises, to the powerful, mega-wealthy man she had implied was her lover, then that was exactly what Angela intended to do!
Gemini scowled her complete frustration with the situation. ‘I realise that you and Angela are…involved, but—’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Drakon raised an arrogant dark brow.
‘Oh, don’t worry.’ She waved a placatory hand at his frowning countenance. ‘I don’t consider your having a relationship with my stepmother so soon after my father’s death as being any of my business.’
‘If that’s true it’s very…magnanimous of you,’ Drakon said slowly.
‘Oh, it’s true,’ Gemini assured him—even if, now that she had met him, she couldn’t help but wonder how such a powerful and charismatic man could possibly find a woman like Angela attractive.
Her father at least had had the excuse of deep feelings of loneliness after the death of Gemini’s mother just a year before he and Angela had been introduced, as well as being deeply flattered by the attentions of a beautiful woman over twenty-five years his junior. But Drakon Lyonedes was as rich as Croesus, for goodness’ sake, and as handsome and powerful as any of his Greek gods. As such, he could surely have any woman he wanted. So why would he bother with a mercenary like Angela? There really was no accounting for a man’s taste!
‘Please continue,’ Drakon invited coolly.
‘I’m not sure that I should,’ she said, suddenly wary.
He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘You obviously disapproved of your father’s second marriage…?’
‘No, that wasn’t it.’ Having started this conversation, Gemini now felt uncomfortable revealing too much of her family history to a man she had, after all, only just met. Especially as, if Angela was to be believed, that man was involved with her. ‘I just thought perhaps my father should have waited a little longer before remarrying. He was feeling pretty low when he and Angela met—my mother had died the previous year, after thirty years of marriage, and he was desperately lonely.’ She shrugged. ‘It seemed to me to be a typical on-the-rebound thing.’
‘But your father did not agree?’
Gemini winced. ‘He had been incredibly unhappy since my mother died, and he seemed so happy with Angela that I just didn’t have the heart to voice any of my doubts to him.’
‘You loved him very much?’
‘Very much,’ she confirmed gruffly.
‘So he and Angela married despite your misgivings?’
She nodded. ‘I just wanted him to be happy again. I’d tried my best to fill the gap that she left, but no matter how close we were it really isn’t possible for a daughter to take the place of a life-mate,’