His Reputation Precedes Him Read online

  Even if Eva hadn’t been warned off by Donna’s unhappy experience with Markos Lyonedes, she knew she would still have been wary of him. He was everything her broken marriage had taught her to stay well away from. Too rich. Too handsome. Far too powerful. And, as she now knew, too immediately and lethally sensual!

  It was perhaps the latter trait that Eva found most disturbing. She knew that she wasn’t as immune to that inborn sensuality, the way this man looked, or the hard leanness of his body, as she might have hoped or wished to be.

  She had met dozens of handsome and charming men during the three years since her separation and divorce—had even tried dating some of them. But not a single one of those men had touched her emotions, and nor had they dispelled the cynicism of feeling she now felt in regard to relationships.

  Markos Lyonedes was such a forceful presence, even in a room full of equally powerful men—one of them was a US Senator, for goodness’ sake!—that Eva had become aware of him the moment he had entered the room a short time ago. When he had looked at her a few minutes ago she had felt a shiver down the length of her spine as she’d recognised the admiration in his heated green gaze.

  ‘I will leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening,’ Eva finally replied derisively. ‘I’m sure all the other ladies present will be only too happy to entertain you.’

  Markos looked down at her piercingly. ‘Is it possible the two of us have met before?’

  Those amber eyes widened. ‘Not that I’m aware, no.’

  Not that Markos was aware, either—he was sure he would have remembered if he had ever met this voluptuously beautiful woman before. Even so, he sensed there was something more to Eva’s comments regarding his reputation than her offhand dismissal implied. As far as he was aware, none of the women he had been involved with had ever walked away broken-hearted.

  Or could it be that he was just too used to having women falling over themselves to attract his attention rather than the other way around? That he had believed Eva would feel flattered at his marked attention? If that was indeed the case then it was worse than arrogant of him, and he deservced the scorn she made no effort to hide.

  Markos forced the tension from his shoulders. ‘You—’

  ‘Ah, there you are, Eva baby.’ A tall, blond-haired man in his late thirties moved in beside Eva. His blue gaze was curious as he turned to smile at Markos, his teeth very white and straight against his slight tan. ‘Great party, isn’t it?’

  ‘Great,’ Markos echoed, as he inwardly acknowledged that he wasn’t pleased at seeing the other man’s arm draped possessively about Eva’s waist. This was ridiculous of him, when Eva had made it so obvious that she had no interest in him. Perhaps the other man’s proprietorial attitude explained that lack of interest?

  Maybe. Although Eva hadn’t looked particularly pleased at being called ‘Eva baby’.

  She straightened away from that possessive arm about her waist before making the introductions. ‘Markos, this is Glen Asher. Glen, meet Markos Lyonedes.’

  ‘Really? The Markos Lyonedes?’ Glen prompted warmly as the two men shook hands.

  ‘Yes, really,’ Eva confirmed, irritated that Glen was so obviously bowled over by meeting him.

  Admittedly the man was as rich as Croesus, but he was too handsome and charming for his own good. And Lyonedes Enterprises was one of the most powerful business organisations in the world, owning a private jet, as well as properties all over the world—including, Eva believed, their own private island in the Aegean. But did Glen have to look quite so impressed?

  ‘Lyonedes Tower is a monument to beautiful architecture,’ Glen added admiringly.

  In that, Eva did have to agree with him. Standing at least eighty floors high, and built of a pale, rose-coloured marble, with tinted sun-reflecting windows, Lyonedes Tower was one of the most beautiful buildings in New York, rivalling the Empire State and the Chrysler Buildings.

  Even so…

  ‘It’s just another tall building blocking the view, Glen,’ she dismissed impatiently.

  Markos Lyonedes looked amused rather than annoyed by her comment. ‘But I thank you anyway,’ he told the other man dryly.

  Eva’s irritation deepened. ‘I believe it’s time we were leaving, Glen.’

  He looked crestfallen. ‘But we only just got here…’

  Markos’s previous annoyance at Eva’s scathing comments about his reputation had dissipated totally in the face of her increasing irritation with the man who had accompanied her here this evening. If she was in a serious relationship, it wasn’t with Glen Asher, and Markos couldn’t see how a man Eva was involved with would be happy about her attending a party with another man—particularly one as handsome and obviously successful as Glen.

  So, no serious relationship.

  But what did it matter? The woman he knew only as ‘Just Eva’ couldn’t have made her complete lack of interest in him any more obvious. Contrarily, it just made her all the more intriguing to Markos.

  He had never thought of himself as being a masochist before, but maybe this move to New York, and the over-abundance of beautiful women vying for his attention this past week, was turning him into one—because if anything his attraction to Eva had only deepened in the last few minutes.

  He looked down at her from between hooded lids. ‘I would be more than happy to escort Eva to her home if you would like to remain at the party a while longer, Glen.’

  Amber-gold eyes widened in what looked like horror at the suggestion, even as bright spots of colour brightened those pale alabaster cheeks. ‘If Glen wishes to stay, I’m perfectly capable of ordering a cab and taking myself home, thank you,’ she replied tightly.

  He continued to look down at her. ‘There’s no need when my car is parked downstairs.’

  Eva wanted to tell Markos Lyonedes what he could do with his car!

  But, even more important than that, she now deeply regretted having invited Glen to accompany her here this evening in the first place.

  They had met the previous week, at a party similar to this one. Eva had studied him dispassionately, finding that she approved of his blond hair and blue eyes, and the fact that he was tall and appeared healthy.

  On the basis that she couldn’t just march up to a complete stranger and ask him to be the donor for her IVF baby—once tests had proved he was fertile, of course—Eva had decided it might be better if the two of them got to know each other a little better before she dropped the bombshell on Glen. That was the only reason she had gone to his office early yesterday evening and asked him to be her escort to Senator Ashcroft’s cocktail party tonight.

  Although Glen seemed to have a very different idea of where their relationship was going…

  She gave Markos Lyonedes a brightly insincere smile. ‘It’s very kind of you to offer, Markos, but—’

  ‘But there’s absolutely no need when I’m happy to leave with Eva,’ Glen cut in with smooth confidence, his arm once again moving about Eva’s waist. ‘I booked dinner for the two of us at nine-thirty,’ he added temptingly.

  A dinner that he was no doubt hoping would result in the two of them sharing the bed in his apartment later on this evening, or possibly in Eva’s. But Eva knew that sharing Glen’s bed—or any other man’s, come to that—simply wasn’t going to happen.

  Nor, in this day and age, was it necessary. It had all seemed perfectly logical when Eva had made her decision several months ago. She was desperate to have a child of her own, but not another marriage or relationship with a man who would ultimately let her down. One failed marriage was surely enough for any woman.

  She had it all planned out. She would become pregnant before her thirtieth birthday in six months’ time, move her offices to her apartment and continue working from there until her eighth month, have the baby, and then resume working once the baby was three months old or so, hiring a nanny who could take over on the occasions Eva had to go out and visit with her clients.

  Logic. Not emotion.r />
  Except it wasn’t logic which drove Eva but an aching, driving need. Jack had wanted to try for a baby as soon as they were married, and as a family of her own was what Eva wanted too she had been only too happy to agree to the suggestion. Month after month she had waited to see if this was going to be the month when she could excitedly tell Jack she was pregnant. Except it hadn’t happened. Not the first year. Nor the second. Until in the end they had decided to see a specialist and find out if either of them had a problem—and, if they did, what to do about it.

  The results of those tests had been devastating and, although Eva hadn’t realised it at the time, they had also sounded the death knell to her marriage.

  Jack was sterile. One hundred per cent, no room for error, sterile.

  Oh, they had told each other that it didn’t matter, that they had each other. It had only been when Eva suggested that maybe they could adopt that the chasm had widened even further between them. Jack had adamantly refused to consider adoption, stating that his blue-blood New York family would never accept as heir a child who wasn’t biologically Jack’s.

  Eva had tried to believe that having each other really was enough. While each day she had died a little inside at the knowledge that there would never be any children in her marriage. No babies to love and nurture, her own or adopted. No happy house full of the children, she had longed for all her life after growing up an only child in the war zone that had been her parents’ marriage.

  She and Jack had stayed together for another two years after the specialist had delivered his devastating news. Years during which they had drifted apart as they both buried themselves in their individual careers rather than face the ever-widening rift in their marriage. Years when Jack became involved in affair after affair—possibly as a sop to his dented virility?—only to break them off each time Eva found out about them, with tears and declarations of love on his part, and promises of future fidelity. Until the next time. And the next.

  Eva’s love for Jack had died a little more with each of those affairs. Until there had been nothing left but the shell of their marriage. A marriage Eva wouldn’t have wanted to bring a child into even if it had been possible.

  Another three years of being on her own after the divorce, of building her interior design business into one of the most successful in New York, and Eva had realised there was still something missing from her life. The same something that had always been missing from her life.

  A baby of her own.

  Lots of professional women had babies on their own nowadays—so why not Eva? She certainly had enough money to be able to provide for them both comfortably, and her career was of a kind that could be worked around a baby’s needs.

  So the plan was to find herself a man who was healthy, explain to him what it meant to be an IVF donor, and present him with the legal contract she would expect him to sign. Both of them would be protected from any financial demands being made on the other after the baby was born.

  Putting that idea into practice had proved much harder than Eva had imagined. Broaching the subject, asking any man to coldly, clinically donate his sperm for IVF, had proved difficult.

  ‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Glen.’ She smiled warmly, more for Markos Lyonedes’s benefit than Glen’s. Her smile faded as she turned to look at the Greek businessman. ‘If you will excuse us?’

  ‘Of course.’ Markos gave a slight inclination of his head, wondering what thoughts had been going through Eva’s head these past few minutes to form that frown between those golden eyes. Whatever they had been, he certainly didn’t hold out a lot of hope for Glen Asher’s chances of sharing her bed tonight. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you both.’

  ‘And you,’ Glen assured him warmly.

  It was a warmth that was in no way reflected in Eva’s incredible gold eyes, and she made no effort to echo her escort’s enthusiasm. ‘We’ll wish you a good evening, then, Mr Lyonedes.’

  His eyes laughed down into hers. ‘I believe you called me Markos earlier.’

  ‘Did I?’ she dismissed coolly. ‘How over-familiar of me!’

  Not familiar enough for Markos. He turned to watch Eva and her escort cross the room to make their excuses to their host before leaving. All without those amber-gold eyes giving so much as a glance back in his direction.

  Markos continued to watch the sensuous sway of those curvaceous hips so lovingly outlined in that clinging red gown, and made a silent promise to himself as the doorman closed the door behind Eva’s departure.

  A promise that one day—or night; it didn’t really matter what time it was!—he would hear Eva scream his name as he made love to her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘WELL, well, well—if it isn’t Ms Evangeline Grey come to call at last!’ Markos observed dryly from where he sat in his high-backed leather chair behind the mahogany desk in his office.

  Lena had shown the interior designer in at exactly five o’clock on Monday evening, before quietly closing the door behind her as she left them alone together.

  Markos and the interior designer Evangeline Grey.

  The same Evangeline Grey who had introduced herself to him as ‘Just Eva’ on Saturday evening, in the knowledge that she had cancelled two appointments with him earlier in the week.

  Markos had wasted no time after she and Glen had left the party on Saturday in asking one of Senator Ashcroft’s many aides about the identity of the woman in the red dress. Only to be informed that she was the interior designer Evangeline Grey.

  Those amber-gold eyes flashed her displeasure now, as she marched into the centre of the spacious office, allowing Markos to see that she managed to look sexy even wearing a business suit—a fitted black jacket and knee-length black skirt, the latter revealing long and silky-smooth legs. Her silk blouse was the same unusual colour as her eyes; her long ebony hair neatly gathered and secured at her crown.

  ‘Your telephone call this morning made it clear you expected me to be here promptly at five o’clock, whether it was convenient or otherwise,’ she reminded him with barely concealed impatience.

  ‘Indeed.’ Markos stood up and moved slowly round his desk to lean back against it as he looked down at her between narrowed lids. ‘And the fact that you are here would seem to imply that you were no happier than I was on Saturday at the possibility of having a slur cast upon your reputation?’

  A frown appeared on that smooth alabaster brow. ‘That’s hardly a fair comparison, Mr Lyonedes, when the threats you made to me this morning were in regard to my professional reputation, not my personal one.’

  ‘I believe the saying is “payback can be a bitch”?’ He gave an unrepentant shrug. This woman had wilfully—deliberately!—played with him on Saturday evening by not revealing her true identity, and no doubt been highly amused at Markos’s expense because of it.

  Markos had thought about it long and hard over the weekend, finally deciding that if Evangeline Grey wanted to play games then he was happy to oblige her. With that in mind he had telephoned her office himself that morning and demanded to speak to her personally. After a short delay there had been a more or less one-sided conversation during which Markos had informed her that there would be no more cancelled appointments. If she didn’t want him to tell anyone and everyone who cared to listen just how unreliable he had found her professional services she would come at five.

  Her only answer had been to end the call abruptly, causing Markos to chuckle wryly as he slowly placed his mobile down on his desktop.

  Nevertheless, he had been sure that Eva would be here at five o’clock. He knew that she was now aware that it was well within his power to seriously damage her professional reputation if he chose to do so.

  ‘You’re unusually quiet today,’ he remarked, lifting his dark brows mockingly.

  Oh, Eva had plenty she wanted to say to this man. She was just erring on the side of caution—for the moment.

  She had realised after leaving Senator Ashcroft’s cocktail party on
Saturday—her feelings of anger on behalf of her cousin aside—that it probably hadn’t been a wise move on her part to antagonise a man as powerful as Markos Lyonedes by making appointments with him which she’d never had any intention of keeping. Unwise and not a little childish, she now accepted reproachfully. As if it would really matter to a man as powerful as Markos Lyonedes if some little interior designer chose to snub him by not keeping her appointments!

  Except, having met her on Saturday evening, it obviously did matter to him. It didn’t help, having duly arrived at Lyonedes Tower at five o’clock, that Eva was now totally aware of the way in which Markos Lyonedes managed to exude a predatory air—despite the expensive elegance of his tailored dark grey suit and paler grey silk shirt, with matching tie knotted meticulously at his throat.

  ‘Did you and Glen enjoy your late dinner on Saturday evening?’ he prompted softly.

  Eva’s mouth tightened at this reminder of the time she and Glen had spent together at an Italian restaurant after leaving the Senator’s party. Several hours during which she had desperately tried to dredge up some of her former approval of Glen as an IVF donor, only to find that, rather than appreciating Glen’s healthy good looks, she was comparing them to the hard and chiselled features of the man now standing in front of her.

  A man she wouldn’t even consider putting on a shortlist of potential donors for her baby.

  Oh, Markos Lyonedes was definitely handsome, and obviously he was healthy and intelligent, but there all suitability as the possible father of her child ended. Markos might have more than earned his reputation for avoiding serious relationships, but Eva knew there was no way that a man as powerful as one of the Greek Lyonedes cousins would ever agree to clinically, calculatedly father a child by donating his sperm for IVF.