The Greek's Blackmailed Wife. Sarah Morgan

      He’d wanted it for twenty-six years but he’d been biding his time, waiting for the right moment.

      And that moment was now.

      ‘All right.’ He stood up with all the grace of a lethal jungle animal, his movements remarkably smooth for such a powerfully built man. ‘Let’s change my image.’

      ‘So we really know nothing about them? Not even the name of the company?’

      Lauranne O’Neill flicked through some slides on her computer, checking her presentation one more time.

      ‘Nothing. They were very cagey.’ Mary, her PA, shot her an apologetic look and then cast her eyes over the meeting room one more time. ‘Intriguing, isn’t it? Maybe they’re royalty. The guy I spoke to just said that they wanted to talk to us and that it was highly confidential.’

      Lauranne gave a wry smile. ‘So confidential that they can’t even tell us the company name?’

      ‘I don’t care what they’re called as long as they pay good money.’ Tom, her business partner, strode into the room briskly, a pile of corporate brochures under his arm in readiness. ‘They’re on their way up. Amanda just went to collect them from Reception.’

      Lauranne looked at him with amusement. ‘Do you ever think about anything except the bottom line, Tom?’

      ‘No.’ He slapped the pile of reports on the table. ‘And that’s what keeps this company so healthy. You’re the conscience—I’m the cash register.’

      Lauranne laughed and she was still smiling when Amanda, one of their junior executives, came into the room, her face bright with excitement.

      Obviously the client was someone well known and very rich if Amanda’s reaction was anything to go by, Lauranne reflected wryly as she smoothed her silk skirt over her slim thighs and pinned a polite smile on her face.

      It was a smile that turned to a shocked gasp as she caught her first glimpse of her prospective client.

      Zander Volakis.

      Staggeringly handsome and arrogantly male, he strolled into the room as if he owned it, closely followed by a team of suited men all keeping a respectful distance behind the boss.

      Lauranne stood, welded to the spot, her body frozen. For a moment she thought she might have lost her ability to feel. And then her past exploded into her present and the pain shot through her. Intense, dark pain that should have lessened with time but instead seemed more acute than ever. Pain that ripped away the layers of protection she’d carefully built between her and the world. Pain that had been buried deep for five, long years.

      She stared into that cold, handsome face and felt her insides lurch.

      He hadn’t changed at all.

      He was still impossibly good-looking and unashamedly Greek. Sleek dark hair swept back from a smooth, tanned brow, a straight, aristocratic nose, a hard jaw that was almost permanently darkened by stubble and a physique so powerfully masculine that it made women drool.

      Intercepting her stunned gaze, those brilliant dark eyes lasered onto hers with all the lethal accuracy of a deadly weapon.

      A shiver ran through her trembling body as she read the challenge in that dark gaze.

      Zander the hunter.

      Pursuing his prey with the same single-minded ruthlessness that he used to outmanoeuvre his competitors. This was a man who had never encountered failure. A man who took millions and turned them into billions.

      A man who didn’t know the meaning of the word no.

      But he was going to have to learn it, she told herself. Because there was absolutely no way she was ever saying yes to this man again.

      And there was no way she would give him the satisfaction of seeing just how strongly he affected her.

      She lifted her chin and returned his gaze full on. ‘Go to hell, Zander.’

      There was an audible gasp from the team of people with him but Zander didn’t flinch, tension emanating from every inch of his powerful frame as he surveyed her with glittering dark eyes.

      ‘Are you going to make this personal?’

      She lifted a hand to her throat, feeling her pulse pounding under the tips of her fingers. ‘You bet I am. How can it not be personal?’ After everything that had happened between them, how could it not be personal? ‘You have the sensitivity of an atomic bomb,’ she said hoarsely and their gazes locked in combat, neither of them even remotely aware of their audience.

      Mary gave a tiny whimper of shock and exchanged horrified glances with Tom, who stood white-faced and silent in one corner of the room.

      One of the men with Zander stepped forward, eyeing the two of them cautiously. ‘Miss O’Neill? I’m Alec Trevelyan. I’m a lawyer.’ The man tried a smile and then gave up, visibly discomforted by the scene playing out around him. ‘I work for Volakis Industries.’

      ‘Then I hope you keep your c.v. up to date,’ Lauranne said caustically, not even glancing in his direction, ‘because working for Volakis Industries is an extremely precarious form of employment.’

      The lawyer, mystified and deprived of speech, looked at his boss for some sort of enlightenment. He didn’t receive any. Zander Volakis continued to stare at the woman in front of him, nothing in his handsome face giving the slightest clue as to his thoughts.

      The lawyer turned back to Lauranne, a pained expression on his face. It was clear he’d never had to deal with this sort of reception before.

      He cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘You do realise who—?’ He gestured to Zander, everything about his body language respectful to the point of being reverential. ‘I mean—Zander is—’

      ‘I know exactly who he is,’ Lauranne said clearly, her wide blue eyes fixed on that breathtakingly handsome face in blatant challenge. ‘He’s the bastard who tried to ruin my life.’ She paused, her breathing as rapid as her heart rate. ‘He’s also my husband.’

      She heard the collective gasp of shock and felt a shaft of pain. The knowledge that he hadn’t told them, that he hadn’t even admitted his marriage to her, wounded her so badly that she wanted to curl up in the corner of the room and hide.

      And that was exactly what she’d been doing for the past five years, of course.

      Hiding.

      Hiding from her past. Hiding from her marriage. Hiding from her feelings.

      She lifted her chin, pride giving her strength. ‘Did you forget to mention that?’ Her eyes were still fixed on Zander, sparking fire and flame. ‘How remiss of you. If you wanted it kept a secret then you picked the wrong woman. I’m not prepared to be anyone’s dark secret.’

      Something flashed in those molten dark eyes. For a fleeting moment she thought it might be admiration but then she shook herself. Zander didn’t admire the sort of woman she was. He liked meek, obedient women who played the game and she’d never played the game.

      She didn’t do meek, and she didn’t do obedient either.

      Alec slid a finger inside his collar, sweat visible on his brow. ‘Well, obviously this—er— I mean we didn’t— Miss O’Neill— I mean Mrs Volakis—’ He broke off and glanced nervously at his boss, waiting for some sort of reaction.

      But Zander didn’t speak.

      He just watched her.

      Using silence as the ultimate weapon. Letting everyone else around him sweat, Lauranne thought grimly.

      She clenched her teeth but she didn’t drop her gaze. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She knew his tricks. Knew just how skilled he was at manipulating his opponent. If he thought he could intimidate her, then he’d misjudged her.

      But then misjudging