"SHE'S here —"
Constantine Zagorakis didn't move a muscle in response to
his aide's whispered aside, though his eyes darkened a
little as Lisa Bond entered the room. The woman's rise to
the seat of power at Bond Steel had played right into his
hands. Her late father, Jack Bond, had been a difficult
character; doing business with Jack's daughter promised an
easier ride.
Lisa Bond had a reputation in the City for being hard. In
fairness she'd had to be hard-hearted to fill the shoes of
her father when he'd died. But, hard or not, she was still
a woman…and women were prey to their emotions, a factor
that would give him an immediate advantage.
An air of confident command hung about the chairwoman of
Bond Steel as she led her directors into the boardroom.
Her manner challenged him. Lisa Bond wouldn't just dance
to his tune; by the time he had finished with her, she'd
sing to it too.
She'd had the worst kind of childhood, but his youth had
been blighted too and he'd come through. He'd make no
allowances. There were only two women in the world he
could trust, and Lisa Bond was neither one of them.
Bond was a woman with history. Before throwing in her lot
with her father, she had lived with her mother in a place
that knew no rules or boundaries. She could turn on the
ice all she liked, he wasn't buying it. Beneath that front
there had to be a free spirit itching to break out. He
would set that spirit free and add her company to his
portfolio at a knock-down price. Where business was
concerned he had no scruples. Breaking down the opposition
was Constantine's primary objective.
Like any predator, Tino sensed the change in the air as
Lisa Bond walked towards him, as well as the hint of some
fresh scent she wore. She was dwarfed by the men in suits
flanking her, but her presence more than made up for it.
Petite and trim, she had clearly chosen her dark tailored
suit to create a certain impression.
She was more beautiful than her photograph suggested, with
luxuriant chestnut-brown hair fixed in an immaculate
chignon. Beautiful women frequently used their looks like
a weapon in an attempt to disarm him, but Lisa Bond was
different — and not just because she had the most
compelling sea-green eyes he had ever seen. She had
something more. The outcome would be the same. He would
take what he wanted and walk away. A woman had betrayed
him at birth; only two had won his trust since then; there
would be no more.
The tabloids and the business reports all said Bond was
blessed with the attributes of an alpha male mixed
together with the subtle cunning of a woman. The tempting
sight of her breasts leant some credence to the rumour.
Had she forgotten to fasten the extra button? Or was the
curve of lush breasts exposed just enough to tease another
cold calculation? Either way, it was his ineluctable duty
to bring her to heel.
Tino took no more than a second or two over his
assessment. His senses were tuned to the highest level.
Whatever happened in the meeting, he would find the key
that unlocked Bond Steel's darkest secrets. Every company
had them. He and his people would simply sift through the
records until he found out what they were.
This 'negotiation' was merely a business courtesy — a
gesture that meant nothing. The moment Bond Steel's
Achilles heel was uncovered he would strike.
In the role of gracious victor he might save Ms Bond's
backside — he might not. That would depend on how
cooperative she was. The only certainty was that he would
be adding another valuable asset to Zagorakis
International Inc.
While this was going on, Lisa was drawing a few fast
conclusions of her own, though it was hard to think
rationally when her back was still bristling at the
unannounced arrival of Constantine Zagorakis. Her diary
was planned with all the care of a military operation; she
didn't like it upset. The meeting with Zagorakis Inc had
been scheduled for later that morning. She had something
to sell; Zagorakis Inc was always hungry. But no one had
expected Constantine Zagorakis to turn up in person.
Lisa had barely had chance to sit down at her desk before
her PA, Mike, had alerted her to who was in the building…
Zagorakis might as well have swept through it like a fire-
storm. Grown men were behaving like overexcited children
at the mere mention of his presence. Fortunately, Lisa's
speciality was dousing fires.
Zagorakis Inc had made an offer for one of Bond Steel's
subsidiaries, a small engineering works that had done some
good things in the past. The company no longer fitted her
strategic vision for the core business, and the cash
injection resulting from the sale could save Bond Steel.
Family-run businesses had dropped out of favour in the
City, and the Bond Steel share price had taken a dive. The
situation was critical. There were no other serious
offers, and if she didn't nail the deal with Zagorakis she
stood to lose Bond Steel, ruin the lives of those who
worked for her, and face the type of humiliation that
would put back the cause of women in industry a hundred
years. Everything was riding on this deal.
Zagorakis Inc was cash rich and could move fast, which
suited her perfectly. But that didn't explain why
Constantine Zagorakis was taking a personal interest in
the deal. It was peanuts on the scale of his usual
acquisitions. So, why was a world-class predator sniffing
around? Because he wanted all of Bond Steel? That was
where her suspicion dial was pointing.
When she found him staring at her, the rumour she had
heard about him sprang to mind — he liked to look his prey
in the eyes before devouring them. She'd laughed at the
time — but now it didn't seem so funny.
She resented the Zagorakis-effect. He was like some vast
power source that drew everyone's attention. A typical
tycoon — he was ruthless, driven, and utterly heartless.
She was no marshmallow herself, which explained the buzz
in the building. This was one battle no one wanted to miss.
Some sixth sense had told him she never sat at the head of
the table, but in the middle of her team. Unerringly, he
had chosen to stand behind her chair as if he was already
poised to take her place. And then he directed one of his
minions to the seldom-used chairman's seat at the head of
the table. Who the hell did he think he was? Who was in
control here?
"Good morning, gentlemen." She didn't need to raise her
voice to command attention, though there was one dark gaze
she could have done without. Zagorakis threw off sexual
vibes with every move. And with treachery typical of the
female body she was already longing for a slice of that
high-octane maleness — something she had to get over fast.
Fortunately, she found that easy. She was Jack Bond's
daughter, after all.
A bitter smile grazed Lisa's lips. Thanks to her father
she had seen the depths of degradation to which a man
could bring a woman. She had no intention of suffering her
mother's fate, of being tossed around like some uncared
for rag doll… She had to be in control.
Tino was immediately aware of the shadow dulling Lisa's
gaze. He had been anticipating a glint of challenge, or
some proof of her wild nature. This new, subdued
expression was a real disappointment. The hunt was spoiled
before it began if the prey was wounded.
He was relieved when she quickly recovered. His
imagination was in overdrive. She had probably missed an
appointment at the beauty salon.
Lisa consciously relaxed her shoulder. It was dangerous to
let Zagorakis see how shaken she was, but something about
him reminded her of the past…
It was his presence, his strength — his overwhelming
physical strength. Yes, that was it. She shook her head in
a fast, instinctive gesture to close the door on those
memories that were safer locked away. But for a few
seconds the old film replayed in her head. The leader of
the commune had been a powerful, awe-inspiring figure, but
he had been an evil man, who had grown ever stronger by
feeding on the insecurities of his flock.
It had been Lisa's misfortune to come to his notice when
her body had started developing faster than the other
girls', and she would always be grateful to her mother for
helping her to run away before the obscene initiation
ceremony he had planned especially for her could take
place.
She glanced around quickly just to check that no one had
noticed her brush with the past. No one had. They were all
too busy preparing for the meeting. And now the blood was
flowing freely through her veins again, and she could feel
her cheeks warming up. The past would always be with her,
Lisa reflected grimly. And thank goodness for it, it kept
her wary, kept her safe.
"Ms Bond."
She came to abruptly. Zagorakis was offering to shake her
hand in greeting, yet all she could think was how
threatening he was. She thought about her father,
remembering how his icy control had proved too much for
his much younger wife, causing her mother to bolt from the
endless round of coffee mornings and race days to the
promised freedom of the commune. Her father might have
been the mainstay of every charitable committee in the
area, but he had remained blind to the fact that her
mother's fragile psyche had been falling to pieces in
front of him…
"I'm going to be a free spirit," her mother had said, Lisa
recalled, curling her lip as she remembered their hectic
flight to the commune. The only thing that was free at the
commune as far as she remembered was the men's licence to
have sex whenever, and with whomever, they chose. The
women worked, while the men drank themselves into
oblivion, only recovering in time for the next rut.
In Lisa's opinion, her mother had simply exchanged one
type of savage slavery for another. Fortunately, such a
thing could never happen to her. She had taken control of
her life when she had escaped the commune, and no one
would ever take that control away from her. If they did
she always feared it would destroy her.
As Constantine Zagorakis's hand enclosed Lisa's in the
customary handshake she felt a shock run right up her arm.
She had thought him strong, but she'd had no idea up to
that moment how powerful he was. Touching him was like
touching the pelt of a sleeping lion. She could sense the
power underneath. And he had the same peculiar stillness
of a deadly predator, a predator poised to pounce…
"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, but they both
knew it was a meaningless courtesy; the smile didn't even
attempt to reach her eyes. The only pleasure in store for
either of them was a deal that came out weighted in their
favour.
Zagorakis's gaze was as hard as her own. She wished it
might have been possible to learn something about him
before they had met, but Constantine Zagorakis was a dark
mystery of a man, a man who lived his life behind a wall
of secrecy. No rumours about him had ever circulated. He
was, apparently, Mr Clean, with no family that anyone knew
about, no lurid sex life, no life at all outside his
formidable business empire — an empire that reached into
every corner of the world.
At thirty-five, Constantine Zagorakis ran one of the
largest corporations on the planet. Devouring companies
was his recreation of choice. But this was one business
that would stick in his craw, because Bond Steel wasn't
for sale. And neither was she. Lisa thought, hardening her
mouth when he held her gaze. Easing her hand away from his
clasp, she turned to address the room: 'Shall we sit down,
gentlemen?"
And now, Zagorakis was holding out her chair like the
perfect gentleman. He didn't fool her. He understood the
significance of the seat of power, and was goading her
with it. He had sensed how territorial she was. The fact
that he could read her so accurately made her doubly
cautious. "Thank you, Mr Zagorakis." She took her place.
"Please, call me Tino." 'Won't you sit across from me?"
Lisa indicated a place at the table, ignoring his attempt
at informality. She didn't want to sit facing him, but it
was better, safer to keep him in sight at all times — that
way she could detect any little asides he might send to
his people.
It provided her with a perfect chance to study him. His
choice of outfit was nothing short of an insult: casual
jacket, blue jeans, and a black, open-necked shirt —
though everything was designer, she'd give him that.
Still, he looked more like a buccaneer home from a raid
than a suave Greek tycoon. His thick, wavy black hair was
too long, and there was at least a day's worth of stubble
on his face.
Her stomach gave a kick as their eyes briefly met. She
didn't like his expression. Aesthetically his eyes were
pleasing enough, glorious in fact, black as pitch, with
lashes so long he could almost shield what he was thinking…
but not quite. This was a scouting trip for Tino
Zagorakis. He wasn't interested in her small engineering
works. He was testing the vulnerability of the parent
company, Bond Steel. He was testing her vulnerability.
Lisa was used to corporate raiders sniffing around. They
all thought the same thing: a woman at the helm was easy
pickings — their mistake. Zagorakis was no more of a
threat than the rest — other than in the hot-sexual-tug
department.
Businessmen she normally encountered had boardroom pallor
with blubber to match, and so she had imagined him
shorter, dumpier, uglier — a younger model of the grizzled
old shipping tycoons. Tino Zagorakis was none of those
things.