The Valentine Affair

The Valentine Affair
Mary Lyons

Sex, lies and Valentines!Alexandra Pemberton had promised her newspaper a Valentine exclusive: the story of Leo Hamilton's whirlwind engagement to Fiona Bliss. By fair means or foul - and more likely foul! - Fiona had succeeded where many had failed, and got the world's most determined bachelor at least halfway to the altar! Alex was impressed! She was also - she had to admit - jealous as hell!Eight years ago Leo had almost seduced Alex - almost. It had never been enough. And dogging Leo's all-too-attractive heels, Alex realized that she wanted Leo as an exclusive, all right - exclusively hers! Mary Lyons writes sharp, sophisticated and sexy stories that will leave you chuckling and breathless for more!

“Where’s your bedroom?” he demanded hoarsely of the girl in his arms (#u80810e3f-440c-5be8-9fbb-0accac5dc051)About the Author (#uf5393784-8a5a-514e-8f8d-b8479363b550)Title Page (#u8d95d4c3-bff1-5002-b1be-921d5d7fd08b)CHAPTER ONE (#uafb98a35-5eec-5fd8-af10-b5071aa47e20)CHAPTER TWO (#u833e479c-cbbb-57d7-a55c-942d1a0cc837)CHAPTER THREE (#u786b8f65-dcf9-595f-ac68-c448c16d7180)CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“Where’s your bedroom?” he demanded hoarsely of the girl in his arms

He continued. “If I have to waste time kicking in all the doors, I’ll be forced to make love to you here....”

“I thought you could find any woman’s bed-room... just like a homing pigeon coming to roost!” Alex giggled, waving him toward a room at the end of the corridor.

“Cheek! It’s high time I taught you some manners,” Leo growled in rough, unlover- like tones as he strode swiftly down the passage and into her room.

“Oh, yeah?” She laughed. “You’ll be lucky!”

“You’re right....” he agreed quietly, swiftly stripping off his clothes as he gazed down at the glinting blue eyes and soft trembling lips, the thick mane of fair, sun-bleached hair and the high, firm breasts of her slim figure. “I’m definitely a very lucky man!”

MARY LYONS

was born in Toronto, Canada, moving to live permanently in England when she was six, although she still proudly maintains her Canadian citizenship. Having married and raised four children, her life nowadays is relatively peaceful—unlike her earlier years when she worked as a radio announcer, reviewed books and, for a time, lived in a turbulent area of the Middle East. She still enjoys a bit of excitement, combining romance with action, humor and suspense in her books whenever possible.

The Valentine Affair!

Mary Lyons

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CHAPTER ONE

The London Chronicle Monday 4th February

JAMES BOSWELL’S SOCIAL DIARY

MARRIED BLISS...?

FOLLOWERS of the social scene will be interested to hear that glamorous, wickedly attractive Leo Hamilton (pictured right at a polo match) has finally met his fate...and is set to many Fiona Bliss, 26, heiress of the ‘Bliss Margarine’ fortune.

Mega-rich banker Leo, 31—who gained a silver medal for fencing in the last Olympics, and is the son of society hostess Lady Lucas by her first marriage to the late Hon. Jack Hamilton—has up to now successfully avoided the clutches of matrimony, despite being linked in the past with so many beautiful women.

However, I am reliably informed that the happy couple will announce their engagement at next week’s St Valentine’s Ball—organised by Lady Lucas in aid of the National Society for Orphaned Children.

Leo and Fiona were unavailable for comment, but Fiona’s mother, Ethel Bliss, is said to be ‘delighted and very happy’.

The silver-grey Porsche made its way carefully through the crowded streets of the City of London, before coming to a halt outside a large, old Victorian building, currently the headquarters of the Hamilton banking empire.

‘She’s all yours, Benson,’ the tall, dark-haired man drawled, unfolding his long limbs from the low-slung vehicle and tossing the car keys to the commissionaire, before visibly wincing at the sound as he slammed the door shut.

‘Had a hard night, Mr Hamilton...?’

‘A real blinder!’ Leo agreed with a tired grin, before striding quickly up the steps and into the building.

‘Ah, there you are, Mr Hamilton,’ his personal assistant called out, hurrying to meet him as he exited the lift on the first floor. ‘Your uncle would like to see you at ten o’clock.’

‘Did he say why?’

His assistant shook her head. ‘Lord Hamilton’s sacretary merely passed on the message. Although it may have something to do with the press conference, which is now scheduled for eleven-thirty,’ she said, almost running to keep up with his long stride as she consulted the notepad in her hand. ‘Your mother has phoned, and is most anxious to contact you. And...and I’d like to offer my own warmest congratulations. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy.’

‘Mmm...?’ Leo shot her a brief, puzzled glance as he entered the blessed sanctuary of his office. Throwing his briefcase onto a black leather sofa, he sank down into the large, comfortable chair behind his desk.

‘OK, Dora—hold all phone calls until I’ve had at least two cups of black coffee. On second thoughts,’ he added with a tired smile, ‘maybe you’d better just keep the black coffee flowing until further notice. And if you can find my dark sunglasses I’ll promise to love you for ever!’ he groaned, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes.

‘It looks as though it was some celebration party last night,’ Dora said some minutes later, placing a cup and saucer on the desk in front of him.

‘You’re so right,’ Leo agreed with a heavy sigh, and wondering—not for the first time—why on earth he’d agreed to attend Alan Morton’s stag night which, starting on Friday night, had continued for most of the weekend. It was beginning to look as if his mother had been right when she’d accused him of getting too old for all-night rave-ups chiefly composed of wine, women and song. Maybe it really was time that he settled down to a life of quiet domesticity...?

‘Are these what you’re looking for?’ his assistant asked, handing him a pair of dark glasses.

‘Dora-you’re an angel! What would I do without you?’

Gazing down at the tall, handsome, lounging figure with a fond smile, Dora reflected that even now, when clearly suffering from a massive hangover, Leo Hamilton was far and away the most good-looking man she’d ever worked for.

Well over six feet tall, his lean, broad-shouldered figure was only part of his dark attraction. Recently returned from a skiing holiday, his tanned features were emphasised by the thick black wavy hair sweeping down over his well-shaped head to curl over the edge of his collar.

Although he was only aged thirty-one, there were several strands of silver amongst the dark hair at his temples. While the green eyes beneath their heavy lids, set above an aquiline nose, only hinted at the sensuality which was clearly evident in the curved line of his wide mouth, she had no doubt that he was just about every red-blooded woman’s dream hero.

And definitely not boring, Dora reminded herself with an inward grin. The apparent ease with which he managed to charm the socks off so many beautiful women was truly astounding. As was the amount of money he spent at the local florist!

It was strange, she reflected, how the past three years seemed to have sped by in a flash. In fact, ever since Mr Hamilton had joined the bank—originally founded by a distant ancestor and now headed by his uncle, Lord Hamilton—it seemed as if the old building had been hit by a typhoon. Because while the outside world might regard her boss as a mere social dilettante and fun-loving playboy, those long-serving members of staff, such as herself, definitely knew better.

As she’d told her husband, after reading about Mr Hamilton’s engagement in the paper at breakfast that morning. ‘Well, all I can say is—he might play hard, but he works even harder.’

‘Tell me about it!’ her long-suffering partner had muttered. ‘Maybe, now the bloke’s getting married, you won’t have to stay so late at the office.’

However, as she returned now to the mountain of paperwork in her own room, Dora had severe doubts on that score. She definitely knew a workaholic when she saw one. And, despite the recent addition of more secretarial staff to cope with the ever-increasing workload, Mr Hamilton continued to carve his way through a formidable amount of business.

‘Maybe you can tell me what the hell’s going on!’ Leo ground out in exasperation, after summoning her back to his office a few minutes later. ‘I’ve just had a weird phone conversation with my mother. Quite honestly, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that the old girl had been suddenly struck down with senile dementia!’

He brushed long, tanned fingers roughly through his dark hair. ‘From what I could make out—and it wasn’t easy—she seemed very excited about some engagement of mine. But, after looking through my diary, I can’t find anything out of the ordinary. Can you throw any light on the subject?’

Dora gazed at him in astonishment for a moment, before giving a short gurgle of laughter.

‘Oh, come on, Mr Hamilton! I know you like a good joke. But, since the news was in the paper this morning, I don’t think there’s much point in trying to keep it a secret, do you?’

‘Keep what a secret...?’

‘Why, your engagement, of course.’ She beamed down at him. ‘In fact, I’m sure that I speak for everyone here in the bank when I say that I wish you and the young lady every happiness in your forthcoming marriage, and...’

Her voice died away as her employer slowly removed his dark glasses to reveal glittering emerald-green eyes, now regarding her with a cold, stern expression from beneath their heavy lids.