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  She understood then the reason for his preoccupation, and didn’t protest when he picked her up and carried her to their bedroom, nor at the fervour with which he proceeded to make love to her so gloriously. He awakened her fledgeling sensuality with a sensitivity which allowed her to find her own pace, caressing away her clothes, and inviting her to do the same to him. Any fear she had had evaporated in the growing heat of passion, stoked by the caress of his hands on her silken skin, and the touch of his mouth on her breasts.

  He aroused her slowly, taking infinite care, his mouth and hands teasing until she was moving restlessly beneath him, her hands reaching out to touch him. His receptivity, the moaning sighs he gave that revealed the pleasure her touch was giving him, invited her to be bolder, and all her inhibitions faded away. It was not enough, and she told him so with every pleading twist of her body. Only then did he begin to make love to her with an urgency that soon had them locked together, straining towards a goal she had never reached before. When he took her, the pain was fleeting, forgotten as Pierce showed her a world of dazzling pleasure, taking her way beyond herself in a kaleidoscopic explosion which had her crying out, and hearing his own cry echo in her wake.

  * * *

  Alix stirred in the large double bed, coming awake to the tingling knowledge that Pierce lay beside her. Her husband. A warm glow of pure happiness spread through her system at the sound of that. No longer was she plain Alix Petrakos, but Mrs Pierce Martineau.

  Turning her head on the pillow, her lips curved as she studied the back of his head, his dark hair rumpled by more than mere sleep. The memory started an altogether different glow inside her. Their union had been perfect. Everything she had ever hoped and more. She had fallen asleep in his arms, blissfully content. But that had been last night. It was morning now, and all she had to do was reach out and touch him, and Pierce would respond. Her heart gave a skip and settled into a faster rhythm, the fine hairs on her body rising as her nerve-ends came to prickling life. Smiling, she rolled over beneath the silk sheet, reaching out one slim hand to slide about his waist.

  It was a move she never completed, because at her first touch the man beside her jack-knifed away, sitting up, thrusting back the cover.

  ‘Don’t touch me!’ The rasping tones, so harshly alien, shocked her into immobility—but only for a millisecond; then she too sat up, watching in total incredulity as the supple, naked figure of her husband moved away from the bed with a stiff-legged stride. One visibly trembling hand pushed the tumble of long platinum locks from her eyes. Large grey eyes, rimmed by dusky lashes, were suddenly clouded with disbelief and hurt.

  ‘What?’ She breathed the question on a note that hovered uncertainly between hopeful humour and pending horror.

  The tall, slim-hipped, dark-haired figure of her husband seemed actually to stiffen at the sound of her voice, but he didn’t halt his progress to the en-suite bathroom. Gathering scattered wits, Alix was out of the bed in seconds, the sheet she used to cover her nakedness billowing about her legs as she followed him to the open door. He had to explain that remark if he wanted her to treat it as the joke it just had to be.

  ‘Pierce!’ Alix managed to keep her voice light by a monumental effort, but even so her underlying shock was plain. ‘That wasn’t funny, darling.’

  Leaning casually against the sink, Pierce waited for the bowl to fill, turning off the water before swinging his head towards her. She wasn’t able to hold back her gasp as his beautiful blue eyes surveyed her from her head to her toes with blood-chilling disdain. She felt as if he stripped her. Not of clothes, but of her dignity. She suffered a searing wave of humiliation never experienced before, and her eyes widened, something as cold and heavy as lead filling her stomach.

  When Pierce spoke, there was insolence in his voice too. ‘I never for a minute imagined it was.’

  ‘Pierce!’ She couldn’t believe he would say something to hurt her so. Not this cold-bloodedly. It wasn’t a joke. It was something more horribly real than that, and she had to find out just what it was before her world fell apart in tatters. ‘What’s happened? What’s wrong?’

  Pierce was busy applying shaving-foam, but he paused to spare her a mocking glance that seemed to diminish her. ‘Whatever makes you think something is wrong?’

  She floundered in a morass of confusion. Up until yesterday he had been so loving, and now... She cast about desperately in her mind for some sort of an answer, anything that would hold back the black tide of pain. ‘Is it something I’ve done? Are you regretting marrying me?’ It was the only thing she could think of.

  He laughed at that, but without a single mitigating trace of humour. ‘No, I had every intention of marrying you. It was what I wanted.’

  It should have been the answer she wanted to hear, but there was an edge to it which struck a chill through her heart. He sounded so cold, so...unemotional. Like a wanderer in a maze, she knew there was only one road out of this hell, and that was to follow the trail he laid for her. ‘You may have wanted it, but I know something’s wrong. I’m not that much of a fool, however much I may seem to be to you now. I only know that, whatever it is, it’s something we can solve together. That’s what it’s all about when two people love each other.’ Her voice, for all her attempts at sounding reasonable, carried a note of desperation.

  Her husband didn’t even bother to pause in his shaving. ‘Who said anything about loving each other?’

  The offhand question was a mortal blow which set her rocking. Alix found that her voice had to be dragged from a painfully tight throat. ‘But I love you, Pierce.’

  ‘That much we do agree on.’ He looked at her then, steely blue eyes daring her to follow up what he said.

  She had no defence against the truth he wanted her to acknowledge. ‘No!’ Her cry was a hoarse denial, as a destructive pain tore through her.

  Pierce calmly washed away the remaining soap and reached for a towel. ‘No. Quite correct. A good night’s sleep seems to have done wonders for your perception.’

  Alix felt so weak that she had to hold on to the doorpost to stop from falling, while her other hand pressed tightly against her heart. ‘You told me you loved me,’ she whispered brokenly.

  ‘If you think back clearly, you’ll realise I never did use those actual words.’

  Her tortured mind winged back to every conversation they had had, and knew it was true. The day she had told him she loved him Pierce had replied... Her eyes shot to his in anguish. She had thought he had told her, but his actual words had been that she couldn’t know the depth of feeling he had in his heart for her! Not love! Never love, only...

  Though it killed her, she had to know. ‘Why did you marry me, Pierce?’

  ‘Why? At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I married you for vengeance.’

  The word bombarded her. ‘Vengeance? But that makes no sense. For what? What have I done?’

  She saw anger in his eyes then, a fury so great that it wiped out the terrible disdain. ‘Can the granddaughter of Yannis Petrakos really not know? I can’t believe that, my dear Alix. Search your memory, and I’m sure you’ll find the truth. Of course, if you don’t manage it, you can always come and ask me.’ He controlled his anger with that mocking contempt. ‘Now, if I’m going to get to the office for eight-thirty, I’d like to shower. For which I would prefer a little more privacy, if you don’t mind. Or can it be that watching a man walk about naked is one of your more interesting peccadilloes?’ Having sent that parting shot and watched it strike home, Pierce shut the bathroom door in her face.

  Alix stumbled the few feet which separated her from the bed, and collapsed down on it. Her limbs were shaking with a palsy, her thoughts chaotic. The only fact which penetrated was that he didn’t love her. The words went over and over in her mind like a record stuck in a groove. Which was why she was still sitting there when Pierce emerged from the bathroom minutes later and, after affording her one brief glance, proceeded to dress. White-faced, she watched him
, the scales falling from her eyes. Everything about him was hard now; there was none of the loving softness left. He had sloughed that off with yesterday’s travel-soiled clothes, and now he stood revealed to her in his true colours.

  Having ignored her presence, once dressed in a dark grey business suit Pierce paused briefly before departing. ‘My housekeeper’s name is Mrs Ransome. Should there be anything you require you need only ask her.’

  Alix didn’t have the necessary composure to reply and Pierce didn’t wait for one. Without another word he left her. Left her alone with her misery of betrayal and only her agonised thoughts for company. When, only minutes later, Mrs Ransome appeared to enquire if she required breakfast, Alix still hadn’t moved. Her chalk-white face showed no sign of tears because none had fallen, but she wasn’t numb either. She only wished she were, so that the pain would end.

  Calmly she refused the food, going through the painful mechanics of smiling. ‘No, thank you, Mrs Ransome. I’m still feeling rather jet-lagged.’ That twentieth-century phenomenon would have been far easier to deal with than the truth, and a bubble of hysteria threatened to destroy what composure she had. She swallowed it back hastily. ‘I think I need to rest more than eat.’

  The housekeeper nodded wisely. ‘Very good, Mrs Martineau. And may I take this opportunity of wishing you and Mr Pierce happy?’

  Alix didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Happy? Yet she must have made some acceptable reply, because the housekeeper smiled and went out. The mask cracked then, as she lowered her head, the graceful arch of her neck revealing her terrible vulnerability. She didn’t know what Pierce meant. Her family hadn’t done anything to him. She had never heard his name mentioned. But Pierce had been so sure. He wanted vengeance, he said, and had set out on a course to deceive and entrap her just for that purpose. He had spent weeks pursuing her, wooing her, using every facet of charm that lay at his fingertips to persuade her of his affections—to claim her as his wife so that he could callously renounce it all this way.

  Her hands came up to cover her face. But she had loved him so! How could he betray her like this? It wasn’t human. It was unfeeling and... Lord help her, her heart felt as if it was being torn asunder, the pain of it ripping open nerves until they were raw and bleeding. Yet even as the pain grew it gradually gave birth to a cauterising anger.

  She had done nothing to deserve this! It was a cry from the very depths of her heart, and her blood answered. Suddenly she wanted to hurt him as he was hurting her. The thought of it filled her stomach with a red-hot flame. The memory of how she had given all her love and trust to this man branded her soul. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she refused to shed them. He had brought her low, but he would never see her cry.

  * * *

  Alix came out of the past with a shiver. The brandy remained untouched in the glass, and she set it aside, rubbing some warmth into her arms with her hands. The revenge she had sought in her rage and pain had never materialised, because that had been only the beginning. Yet nothing that happened later had touched her the way that first betrayal had. The hurt had gone so deep that all else had compounded it, but could not make it worse.

  Yet, as she had told Pierce, their brief marriage had taught her a lesson. A valuable one. Never again would she fall for a man’s lies, nor give him any control over her life, so that he had the power to manipulate and hurt her. Nor would she ever allow her own emotions to lead her into those same dangerous waters, blinding her to everything.

  She had had a warning tonight that his attraction was as potent as ever, and she deplored her own feminine weakness which made her vulnerable to him. She had to be on her guard. Whatever Pierce was here for, she had to keep a clear head and not let her emotions sway her judgement. It was the only way to stay one step ahead of him. She didn’t trust him, had learned not to in the hardest way.

  Whatever plan he had she would be wary of. She knew all about the Martineau company now. It was so diversified, it was doubtful if he’d ever be threatened with a take-over, hostile or otherwise. Whereas he had a habit of acquiring failing companies, splitting them into their constituent parts, and selling them off at a profit. If that was what he had in mind for Petrakos Publishing, then he could think again.

  Yet Pierce’s personal reputation was spotless. He had the proverbial Midas touch. There was scarcely a word written but to praise him. However, the businessman was one thing, the man another, as she knew to her cost. If the Petrakos empire weren’t in such dire straits, she would have absolutely nothing to do with him. But she must force herself to swallow her pride and be practical for the sake of the thousands of livelihoods involved.

  If she kept her mind on that, then she knew she could handle Pierce. She had grown up a lot in the last five years, and knew she was stronger mentally. She wasn’t going to be a coward and run away. This time she was going to face up to him, and she was going to win.

  It was a thought which put a tight smile on her lips as she finally made her way to her bedroom. Perhaps she would get her revenge after all.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE following morning, Alix dressed with more than her usual care. This meeting with Pierce was going to be a battle of wills, and it would be in her own best interests to project a confident image. Which was why she chose an extremely businesslike black suit, enlivening it by pinning the diamond brooch she had inherited from her grandmother on the lapel, completing the ensemble by adding diamond studs in her ears and a simple gold rope at her throat.

  Stepping in front of the mirror, she took stock of the view he would receive. Her make-up had been applied with polished efficiency which made it seem almost non-existent, and altogether she knew she looked good. A businesswoman, in complete control of her life. It was an image she had worked hard to build, earning the respect she now received, and she wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.

  The drive to the office was as stressful as ever, but today she was aware of an added edge. The very last thing Alix wanted was to arrive late, because she knew how hard it was to make up lost time. Keeping Pierce waiting wasn’t part of her plan. She wanted him to see that she could be cool and efficient under pressure. Fortunately, the gods seemed to be on her side, and she was soon taking the lift from the underground car park where she left her car, rising swiftly to her office on the top floor.

  Her secretary was already hard at work, and Alix halted by her desk. ‘Good morning, Ruth.’

  The middle-aged woman looked up with a smile. ‘Good morning, Alix. How’s your father?’

  ‘Improving, thankfully. Listen, you’d better leave the post for now. I’ve someone coming at ten o’clock, so I need you to clear the morning for me,’ Alix responded, pink-tinted nails tapping out a tattoo on the polished surface of the desk.

  Ruth reached for her diary. ‘There was only Mr Johnson from the union pencilled in before lunch.’

  Alix pulled a face. The union had been a headache for days now, and she had been fobbing them off until she had some definite news. ‘Well, he won’t like it, but it can’t be helped. Try and squeeze him in this afternoon, but if not, tell him...tell him we’ve rescheduled because there might be light at the end of the tunnel.’

  Ruth, as anxious about her job as anyone else, pricked up her ears. ‘And is there?’

  Alix chewed at her lips. ‘That all depends on this meeting with Pierce Martineau,’ she declared shortly.

  ‘Are we talking the same Martineau as in the shipping line?’ her secretary queried, visibly brightening.

  Unfortunately the reference was not a welcome one to Alix. ‘We are.’

  Ruth was almost jigging in her seat. ‘You know, for the first time I really do believe we might turn about. After all, he did wonders for that fleet, didn’t he, turning a loss into a profit quicker than you could say it?’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s as maybe, but I’d rather you didn’t spread any rumours until we know just what the deal is. Pierce Martineau never does anything for nothing,’
Alix muttered broodingly.

  ‘You sound as if you know him,’ Ruth put in curiously, and Alix swiftly pulled herself together.

  ‘Our paths have crossed before,’ was all she cared to admit. ‘I’ll be in my father’s office if you need me.’

  Walking into her own office, she deposited her briefcase on the desk before letting herself into her father’s spacious room via the connecting door. It seemed lifeless without his vital presence in the driving seat. Somehow she just couldn’t imagine him not coming back here. Yet, if the doctors were right, then Stephen Petrakos would have to undergo a rapid change in lifestyle if he wanted to live much longer.

  Crossing to the desk, she ran her hands over the soft leather of the chair, then slowly sank into its cushioned depth. She had the distinct impression of being swallowed up. It was too big for her. It needed another Stephen Petrakos to fill it. The realisation made her feel tired. She had stepped into her father’s shoes because everyone had expected it of her, including herself. Now they expected miracles, and all she had done was singularly fail to put together a rescue package these last few weeks.

  She swivelled round until she could see out of the window. She knew she was good at what she did, but that was on the publishing side of the business. Management was something outside her scope. She had done her best, but she doubted if anyone else knew the full extent of their financial problem. It was hard to believe the debts her father had mounted up. It had shown to her a man with a cavalier streak that she hadn’t known existed. Although, from the meetings she had had with other managers, not everybody had been as blinkered as she. The company was drastically over-extended, and the size of the interest payments to be made on hefty bank loans arranged to start up new projects had made her feel sick. Money seemed to be flooding out, not in, and it was a nightmare. No wonder her father had had a heart attack. What the company needed was a large injection of cash and a firm hand at the wheel.