LIZZIE WAS ON FIRE. He watched her brown eyes blaze bullets at him from the well of the court. She was just eighteen, with flowing red hair and—controversially at this most subdued of gatherings—black leather trousers, a skimpy top, tattoos and a pierced lip. He would have had to be unconscious not to want the force of nature that was Lizzie Montgomery

That didn’t change the facts. This was a court of law, and he, Damon Gavros, was part of the team from Gavros Inc—an international shipping company registered in Greece—attending court in London. He was there to support his father, who was appearing as the chief prosecution witness in the case of Gavros Inc. versus Charles Montgomery, fraudster.

It was a shock seeing Lizzie again in court—though to say he regretted sleeping with her last night wouldn’t be true. Even had he known who she was then, the fire between them would almost certainly have led them down the same road and to hell with the consequences.

They’d met for the first time the previous evening, when Lizzie, obviously distressed, had been refused a drink at the bar where he’d been sitting quietly in a corner, thinking about bringing to justice the man who had tried to defraud his father out of millions. Seeing a woman distraught, yet refusing to go home, and a barman on the point of ejecting her, he’d intervened. Taking Lizzie back to his place, he’d plied her with coffee and they’d got talking.

Lizzie was her name, she’d told him. He’d had no idea she was Charles Montgomery’s daughter. She was hot, funny, and almost too happy to laugh at herself. She was looking forward to college. He was just about to leave college. One thing had led to another, and now it was too late to repair the mistake even had he wanted to.

Just how much of a mistake he was about to discover as Lizzie’s father was taken down to the cells and he found Lizzie waiting for him outside the court. Her language was colourful. The slap came out of nowhere. He supposed he deserved it.

Touching his cheek, he held her blazing stare. She was half his size, but when Lizzie was roused she was a firebrand—as he had discovered last night in bed.

Uncaring of the crowd gathering around them in the expectation of a scene, she balled her fists and raged at him. ‘You bastard! How could you have sex with me last night knowing this was going to happen?’

‘Calm yourself, Lizzie.’ He waved the Gavros legal team away. ‘You’re making a spectacle of yourself.’

‘Calm myself?’ she exclaimed bitterly. ‘Thanks to you, my father’s a convicted criminal!’

Charles Montgomery would always be innocent in Lizzie’s eyes. As far as she was concerned the rest of the world—and most especially the man she’d clung to, panting out her lust the previous night—could go hang.

‘And don’t look at me like that,’ she blazed. ‘You don’t frighten me,’

‘I should hope not,’ he agreed.

‘Don’t!’ she warned, deflecting him when he reached out to comfort her.

In his peripheral vision he could see the Gavros security men politely but firmly ushering the spectators away, and now the head of his father’s legal team was approaching. He waved him back too. Lizzie was due some consideration. Her voice was shaking with shock. The judge had wanted Lizzie’s father to be an example to others who might think of following his lead, and had handed down a prison sentence lengthy enough to shock everyone in court.

‘Your father hurt a lot of people, Lizzie. It wasn’t just my family that suffered—’

‘Stop it! Stop it!’ she screamed, covering her ears with her hands. ‘All you care about is money!’

‘I have a family to protect,’ he argued quietly. ‘And not just my family but all those people who work for our company. Don’t they deserve justice too?’

‘And you’re such a saint!’ she yelled before swinging away.

Guilt speared him as her shoulders heaved with silent sobs. Would he have acted differently last night if he’d known this would happen? However hard he tried, he could not regret having sex with Lizzie. His only thought now was to comfort her, to shield her from curious eyes, but Lizzie Montgomery was in no mood to be consoled.

‘I hate you!’ she yelled as her friends came over to lead her away.

The words sounded torn from her soul. ‘Well, I don’t hate you,’ he called after her.

Lizzie wasn’t to blame for her father’s actions, and however misplaced her loyalty might be he could understand it. He felt the same about his father, who had spent a lifetime building the business Charles Montgomery had almost destroyed.

Damon’s father had always been keenly aware of the families who depended on him—a responsibility that would pass to Damon one day. He looked forward to following in the great man’s footsteps. Lizzie didn’t know it yet, but she was

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