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What the Greek's Money Can't Buy. Майя БлейкЧитать онлайн книгу.

What the Greek's Money Can't Buy - Майя Блейк


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been a teen was still fodder for journalists. Of course, she didn’t know the full story, but she knew enough to understand why Sakis would hate having his company thrown into the limelight like this.

      His phone rang again.

      ‘Mrs Lowell. No, I’m sorry, there’s no news.’ His voice held the strength and the solid dependable calm needed to reassure the wife of the missing captain. ‘Yes, he’s still missing, but please be assured, I’ll personally call you as soon as I have any information. You have my word.’

      A pulse jumped in his temple as he hung up. ‘How long before the search and rescue team are at the site?’

      She checked her watch. ‘Ninety minutes.’

      ‘Hire another crew. Three teams working in eight-hour shifts are better than two working in twelve-hour shifts. I don’t want anything missed because they’re exhausted. And they’re to work around the clock until the missing crew are found. Make it happen, Moneypenny.’

      ‘Yes, of course.’

      The lift doors opened. Brianna nearly stumbled when his hand settled in the small of her back to guide her out.

      In all her time working for him, he’d never touched her in any way. Forcing herself not to react, she glanced at him. His face was set, his brows clamped in fierce concentration as he guided her swiftly towards the waiting helicopter. A few feet away, his hand dropped. He waited for the pilot to help her up into her seat before he slid in beside her.

      Before the aircraft was airborne, Sakis was on the phone again, this time to Theo. The urgent exchange in Greek went right over Brianna’s head but it didn’t stop her secret fascination with the mellifluous language or the man who spoke it.

      His glance slid to her and she realised she’d been unashamedly staring.

      She snapped her attention back to the tablet in her hand and activated it.

      There’d been nothing personal in Sakis’s touch or his look. Not that she’d expected there to be. In all ways and in all things, Sakis Pantelides was extremely professional.

      She expected nothing less from him. And that was just the way she wished it.

      Her lesson had been well and truly learned in that department, in the harshest possible way, barring death—not that she hadn’t come close once or twice. And all because she’d allowed herself to feel, to dare to connect with another human being after the hell she’d suffered with her mother.

      She was in no danger of forgetting; if she did, she had the tattoo on her shoulder to remind her.

      * * *

      Sakis pressed the ‘end’ button on yet another phone call and leaned back against the club seat’s headrest.

      Across from him, the tap-tap of the keyboard filled the silence as his assistant worked away at the ever-growing list of tasks he’d been throwing at her since they’d taken off four hours ago.

      Turning his head, he glanced at her. As usual her face was expressionless save the occasional crease at the corner of her eyes as she squinted at the screen. Her brow remained smooth and untroubled as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

      Her sleek blonde hair was in the same pristine, precise knot it had been when she’d arrived at work at six o’clock this morning. Without conscious thought, his gaze traced over her, again feeling that immediate zing to his senses.

      Her dress suit was impeccable—a black-and-white combination that looked a bit severe but suited her perfectly. In her lobes, pearl earrings gleamed, small and unassuming.

      His gaze slid down her neck, past slim shoulders and over the rest of her body, examining her in a way he rarely permitted himself to. The sight of the gentle curve of her breasts, her flat stomach and her long, shapely legs made his hands flex on his armrests as the zing turned stronger.

      Moneypenny was fit, if a little on the slim side. Despite his slave-driving schedule, not once in the last year and a half had she turned up late for work or called in sick. He knew she stayed in the executive apartment in Pantelides Towers more and more lately rather than return to... He frowned. To wherever it was she called home.

      Again he thanked whatever deity had sent her his way.

      After his hellish experience with his last executive assistant, Giselle, he’d seriously contemplated commissioning a robot to handle his day-to-day life. When he’d read Brianna’s flawless CV, he’d convinced himself she was too good to be true. He’d only reconsidered her after all the other candidates, after purporting to have almost identical supernatural abilities, had turned up at the interviews with not-so-hidden agendas—ones that involved getting into his bed at the earliest opportunity.

      Brianna Moneypenny’s file had listed talents that made him wonder why another competitor hadn’t snapped her up. No one that good would’ve been jobless, even in the current economic climate. He’d asked her as much.

      Her reply had been simple: ‘You’re the best at what you do. I want to work for the best.’

      His hackles had risen at that response, but there had been no guile, no coquettish lowering of her lashes or strategic crossing of her legs. If anything, she’d looked defiant.

      Thinking back now, he realised that was the first time he’d felt it—that tug on his senses that accompanied the electrifying sensation when he looked into her eyes.

      Of course, he dismissed the feeling whenever it arose. Feelings had no place in his life or his business.

      What he’d wanted was an efficient assistant who could rise to any challenge he set her. Moneypenny had risen to each challenge and continued to surprise him on a regular basis, a rare thing in a man of his position.

      His gaze finally reached her feet and, with a sharp dart of astonishment, he noted the tiny tattoo on the inside of her left ankle. The star-shaped design, its circumference no larger than his thumb, was inked in black and blue and stood out against her pale skin.

      Although he was staring straight at it, the mark was so out of sync with the rest of her no-nonsense persona, he wondered if he was hallucinating.

      No, it was definitely a tattoo, right there, etched into her flawless skin.

      Intrigued, he returned his gaze to the busy fingers tapping away. As if sensing his scrutiny, her fingers slowed and her head started to lift and turn towards him.

      Sakis glanced down at his watch. ‘We’ll be landing in three hours. Let’s take a break now and regroup in half an hour.’

      Despite the loud whirr of her laptop shutting down, he noticed her attention didn’t stray far from the device. Her attention never wavered from her work—a fact that should’ve pleased him.

      ‘I’ve ordered lunch to be served in five minutes. I can hold it off for a few more minutes if you would like to look over the bios of the people we need to speak to when we land?’ Her gaze met his, her blue eyes cool and unwavering.

      His gaze dropped again to her ankle. As he watched, she slowly re-crossed her legs, obscuring the tattoo from his gaze.

      ‘Mr Pantelides?’ came the cool query.

      Sakis inhaled slowly, willed his wavering control to slide back into place. By the time his gaze reconnected with hers, his interest in her tattoo had receded to the back of his mind.

      Receded, but not been obliterated.

      ‘Have lunch served in ten. I’ll go take a quick shower.’ He rose and headed for the larger of the two bedrooms at the rear of his plane.

      At the door, he glanced back over his shoulder. Brianna Moneypenny was reaching for the attendant intercom with one hand while reopening her laptop with the other.

      Super-efficient and ultra-professional. His executive assistant was everything she’d said on the tin, just like he’d explained to Ari.

      But it suddenly occurred


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