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PROLOGUE

T HE Greek billionaire Lysander Metaxis strode into the luxurious salon of his fabulous yacht, where his personal staff awaited hiely wealthy and dynamic employer usually started work at six and rarely sleptto look wide awake

His senior PA, Dmitri, presented him with a folder ‘I hope you’ll be pleased, sir’

His lean, dark, handsoal Court Dense woodland on all sides screened the Elizabethan manor house from curious eyes, but not from the air His only previous acquaintance with the ancient building was through his raph albums The superb definition of the aerial shots revealed the extensive deterioration that had taken place in recent decades

His rew steadily harder and colder, for it was clear that the listed building was in serious need of repair The roof was in a mess, the brickwork required attention and there was a suspicious bulge in a gable wall Yet, Gladys Stewart had repeatedly refused to sell the property to his late father, Aristide However, the old lady was dying now and he could only assume that her demise would finally make the purchase of the house possible

Madrigal Court had belonged to his mother’s family for over four hundred years before financial adversity had forced its sale Over tial Court had become a matter of Metaxis family honour And family honour was an issue that Lysander, as Greek to his backbone, held in very high regard His ruthlessness was legendary and he was a dangerous h he was one of the richest s or the cruel neglect he had endured before fortune had sinia and Aristide Metaxis as adoptive parents

The acknowledgehts, which cast disturbing shadows across Lysander’s usual e back Virginia’s ancestral ho mission, as opposed to an ambition to be attained at soet the house back and quickly All of a sudden time was of the essence, he conceded bleakly

A stunning brunette, clad in a transparent wrap that concealed nothing of her astonishing figure, strolled in Her caressing fingertips inscribed a provocative pattern on the back of his hand ‘Coly

Almost imperceptibly, Lysander stiffened ‘I’m busy,’ he draithout expression

His staff exchanged significant glances No woer than a feeeks His current lover ht not know it yet, but she was already history

‘Dmitri…’ Lysander lifted his well-shaped dark head ‘…who authorised polythene tunnels to be installed inside the walled garden?’

The PA stepped forward and frowned down at the photo in frank bewilderrounds, sir? I’m afraid I have no idea’