Playboys. Lynne Graham

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СКАЧАТЬ was steadily beginning to grate on him.

      Ophelia enjoyed an equally busy morning. She had opened her eyes to a terse five-word unsigned note on the pillow. ‘At office, flight Greece 20.00 hrs.’ She had almost leapt out of bed and saluted with a ‘Yes, sir!’ as though she were in the military. That amused response was doused by the staggering discovery that she was wearing an opulent pearl and diamond necklace, which put her worryingly in mind of a very elegant dog collar. Was it payment for her virginity? A reward for submission?

      Filled with self-loathing at that awful suspicion, Ophelia was sufficiently preoccupied to find herself accepting the luxury of breakfast in bed without complaint. The same maid offered to run her a bath and lay out her clothes and a PA phoned to tell her that she would be leaving for Lysander’s house in London at eleven. Ophelia, who had relished her recent freedom to work all the hours of daylight in her garden, felt trapped by the schedule already mapped out for her.

      Ophelia rang Pamela.

      ‘No, of course I didn’t tell my brother about your marriage,’ Pamela declared. ‘In fact Matt’s furious that I didn’t tip him off. I’m practically under siege by the paparazzi down here. Lysander’s security men have put up barriers at the foot of the lane and the police are patrolling. It’s hugely exciting.’

      Ophelia was deep in thought. ‘Do you think anyone would be interested in interviewing me?’

      ‘Are you crazy? Any journalist would kill for the chance! You’re hot news now.’

      Ophelia reckoned that she would never have a better opportunity to take the first step in her campaign to regain her freedom. Did she have the nerve to pull it off? She could not think of anything that Lysander would like less than a wife who could not wait to gush about him and his lifestyle in print.

      ‘I think it would be fun to do an interview, but it would have to be in London this afternoon. Do you think your brother would like to do it?’

      Pamela was so thrilled by that offer that she offered to act as a go-between and handed out loads of tips on self-presentation. Ophelia inspected her new wardrobe with a purposeful glint in her gaze and combined several colourful items to achieve the tarty over-the-top effect she wanted. Lysander had to be made to appreciate that threat could only take him so far and no further, and that it would provide no defence whatsoever against the indignity of an unsuitable wife.

      Lysander travelled back to his London town house around four that afternoon and found it in uproar. Stamitos greeted him tensely at the door and informed him that Ophelia was giving an interview to the press. Staff were grouped in doorways in strained silence. Nobody had the courage to meet Lysander’s utterly disbelieving gaze.

      ‘Which newspaper?’ Lysander demanded, thinking some sixth-sense prompting must have urged him home a good five hours in advance of his usual finishing time.

      Stamitos’s big shoulders took on a visible slump. He named a very popular tabloid that had run several scurrilous stories about Lysander’s sex life in recent years. For a split second Lysander actually felt his skin turn clammy with shock, a sensation he had experienced on only one other occasion since reaching adulthood, which had been when his mother’s illness was first diagnosed.

      ‘Where are they?’

      ‘The library,’ Stamitos said heavily.

      Lysander could barely credit what he was being told. His library, the most private place in his London home, into which he invited only a chosen few. He had failed to appreciate thatthe very fact that Ophelia was his wife had put her in a position of unfettered power. Who would dare to question anything she did unless he first told them to do so? But why the hell hadn’t someone had the courage to phone him and let him know what was happening?

      The library door stood open on a room crowded with people and camera equipment. Lysander breathed in slow and deep. It was beneath his dignity to make a scene but the violation of his privacy felt like an act of treachery. Ophelia was curled up on an antique sofa, looking as tiny, exotic and colourful as a tropical bird. Her make-up was dramatic and she had teamed a very short cerise pink dress with over-the-knee sheer black lace stockings and silver high heels. It was a bizarre outfit. His attention travelled from her enormous lilac-shadowed eyes to her glistening cherry-red mouth and lingered with satisfaction on the pearl and diamond necklace before heading down over the pouting swell of her breasts and finishing at the slender expanse of white thigh visible above the lace stocking. His libido reacted with raunchy enthusiasm: bizarre could be surprisingly sexy.

      ‘Lysander came to see my home and it was love at first sight,’ Ophelia was gushing with a huge smile. ‘I am so lucky, Matt. Right now it feels like I’m living a fairy tale!’

      Lysander stared at that wide natural smile, noting that he had never seen it before, while wondering if there just might be a seed of truth in that brash declaration. All too many women had gone overboard for Lysander, which was why he preferred casual relationships. Constantly arguing with him could be Ophelia’s way of hiding her feelings or even a perverse way of attempting to grab and hold his attention. Was that why she had invited the media into his home and was talking like an overexcited schoolgirl? Some people would dovirtually anything to get publicity. Was this simply the fifteen minutes of fame that she felt she had to have? And why did she sound so chummy with the interviewer?

      Lysander watched the young male journalist ogle Ophelia’s legs as she shifted position and suddenly it annoyed the hell out of Lysander that his wife was wearing a short skirt.

      ‘I want that smile of hers for the front cover,’ the cameraman was telling his assistant.

      ‘How does it feel to be married to a billionaire?’

      ‘Blissful.’ Ophelia touched the magnificent jewels encircling her white throat with reverent fingertips. ‘Lysander gave me this necklace today.’

      Lysander set his even white teeth together and ground them. Didn’t she realise what she sounded like? He wanted to gag her for her own protection.

      ‘I understand that even though you only got married yesterday your husband is already back at work. How do you feel about that?’

      ‘Like I’ve been abandoned,’ Ophelia declared earnestly. ‘Lysander will have to change his lifestyle. I believe married couples should spend a lot of time together. I plan on going everywhere with Lysander. His friends will be my friends and I will share all his interests—’

      ‘Is that because you doubt your husband’s ability to stay faithful if you’re not around?’

      ‘Oh, I don’t doubt that at all,’ Ophelia told him chirpily. ‘Lysander worships the ground I walk on. I know he’s missing me just as much as I’m missing him today.’

      At that precise moment, Ophelia saw Lysander and a guilty blush of mortification enveloped her in a heat wave from head to toe. Yet, for a split second, she still stared for he lookedbreathtakingly handsome and the sexy epitome of sleek male sophistication. Unfortunately she had not expected him to show up during the actual interview when giant fibs and breezy inanities of the most embarrassing sort were tripping off her tongue. Heads began turning and silence fell as his presence registered on Pamela’s brother, Matt, and his companions.

      ‘Which is why I came home early,’ Lysander drawled with a glittering smile, crossing the room to close an arm round his blushing bride.

      Ophelia was struck dumb, but it didn’t matter because Lysander took СКАЧАТЬ