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Brianna perused the electronic page for typos. Once she was satisfied, she approached where Sakis stood with the environment minister. His yellow jumpsuit was unzipped to the waist, displaying the dark-green T-shirt that moulded his lean, sleekly muscular torso. She’d never thought she’d find the sight of a man slipping on a hideous yellow jumpsuit so...hot and unsettling.
He turned, and she held her breath as his gaze swept over her. The crackle of electricity she’d felt earlier when their fingers had touched returned.
Abruptly she pushed it away. They were caught in a severely fraught set of circumstances. What she was experiencing was just residual adrenaline that came with these unfortunate events.
‘Is it ready?’ he asked.
She nodded and passed the press release over, along with the list of names he’d requested. He skimmed the words then passed the tablet back to her. Brianna knew he’d memorised every single word.
‘I’ll go and prep the media.’
She headed for the group of journalists poised behind the white cordon. As she walked, she practised the breathing exercises she’d mastered long before she’d come to work for Sakis Pantelides.
By the time she reached the group, she’d calmed her roiling emotions.
‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is how it’s going to work. Mr Pantelides will give his statement. Then he’ll invite questions—one from each of you.’ She held out a hand at the immediate protests. ‘I’m sure you’ll understand that it’ll take hours for every question you’ve jotted down to be answered and frankly we don’t have time for that. Right now the priority is the salvage operation. So, one question each.’ Control settled over her as her steely gaze held the group’s and received their cooperation.
Yes, that was more like it. Not for her the searing, jittery feelings of the last few hours, ever since she’d looked up on the plane and caught Sakis’s gaze on her ankle tattoo; since he’d touched her on the beach, told her not to worry that she’d missed the pirates angle. Those few minutes had been intensely...rattling.
The momentary heat she’d seen in his eyes had thrown her off-balance. At the start of her employment she’d taken pains to hide the tattoo but, after realising Sakis took no notice of what she wore or anything about her, she’d relaxed. The sensation of his eyes on her tattoo had smashed a fist through her tight control.
It had taken hours to restore it but, now she had, she was determined not to lose it again.
There was too much at stake.
Feeling utterly composed, she glanced over to where Sakis waited at the assembled podium. At his nod, she signalled security to let the media through.
She stood next to the podium and tried not to let his deep voice affect her as he started speaking. His authority and confidence as he outlined the plans for the salvage mission and the search for the missing crew belied the tension in his body. From her position, she could see the rigid outline of his washboard stomach and the braced tension in his legs. Even though his hands remained loose at his sides, his shoulders barely moved as he spoke.
A camera flashed nearby and she saw his tiniest flinch.
‘What’s going to happen to the remaining oil on board?’ a reporter asked.
His gaze swung to where the minister stood. ‘For their very generous assistance, we’re donating the contents on board the distressed vessel to the coast guard and army. The minister has kindly offered to co-ordinate the distribution.’
‘So you’re just going to give away oil worth millions of dollars, out of the goodness of your heart? Are you trying to bribe your way out of your company’s responsibilities, Mr Pantelides?’
Brianna’s breath stalled but Sakis barely blinked at the caustic remark from a particularly vile tabloid reporter. That he didn’t visibly react was a testament to his unshakeable control.
‘On the contrary, as I said at the start, my company assumes one hundred per cent liability for this incident and are working with the government in making reparations. No price is too high to pay for ensuring that the clean-up process is speedy and causes minimum damage to the sea life. This means the remaining crude oil has to be removed as quickly as possible and the vessel secured and towed away. Rather than transfer it to another Pantelides tanker, a process that’ll take time, I’ve decided to donate it to the government. I’m sure you’ll agree it makes perfect sense.’ His tone remained even but the tic in his jaw belied his simmering anger. ‘Next question.’
‘Can you confirm what caused the accident? According to your sources, this is one of your newest tankers, equipped with state-of-the-art navigation systems, so what went wrong?’
‘That is a question for our investigators to answer once they’d finished their work.’
‘What does your gut feeling say?’
‘I choose to rely on hard facts when stakes are this high, not gut feelings,’ Sakis responded, his tone clipped.
‘You haven’t made a secret of your dislike for the media. Are you going to use that to try and stop the media from reporting on this accident, Mr Pantelides?’
‘You wouldn’t be here if I felt that way. In fact—’ he stopped and flicked a glance at Brianna before facing the crowd, but not before she caught a glimpse of the banked unease in his eyes ‘—I’ve hand-picked five journalists who will be given exclusive access to the salvage process.’
He read out the names. While the chosen few preened, the rest of the media erupted with shouted questions.
One in particular filtered through. ‘If your father were alive and in your place, how would he react to this incident? Would he try and buy his way out of it, like he did with everything else?’
The distressed sound slipped from Brianna’s throat before she could stop it. Silence fell over the gathered group as the words froze in the air. Beneath the podium, out of sight of the media’s glare, Sakis’s hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.
The urge to protect him surged out of nowhere and swept over her in an overwhelming wave. Her heart lurched, bringing with it a light-headedness that made her sway where she stood. Sakis’s quick sideways glance told her he’d noticed.
Facing the media, he inhaled slowly. ‘You have to go to the afterlife to ask my father that question. I do not speak for the dead.’
He stepped from the podium and stood directly in front of her. The breadth of his broad shoulders blocked out the sun.
‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded in a fierce whisper.
‘N...nothing. Everything is fine.... Going according to plan.’ She fought to maintain her steady breathing even as she flailed inside. Needing desperately to claw back her control, she searched blindly for the solid reassurance of her mini-tablet.
Sakis plucked it out of her hands, his piercing gaze unwavering as it remained trained on her. ‘According to plan would be these damned vultures finding another carcass to pick on and leaving us to get on with the work that needs to be done.’ From his tone, there was no sign that the last question had had a lasting effect on him, but this close she saw his pinched lips and the ruthlessly suppressed pain in his eyes. Another wave of protectiveness rushed over her.
Purpose. That was what she needed. Purpose and focus.
Swallowing hard, she held out her hand for her tablet. ‘I’ll take care of it. You’ve chosen the journalists you want to cover the salvage operation. There’s no need for the rest to hang around.’
He didn’t relinquish it. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You look pale. I hope you’re not succumbing to the heat. Have you had anything to eat since we got here?’
‘I’m fine, Mr Pantelides.’ He kept staring at her, dark brows clamped in a frown. ‘I assure you, there’s nothing wrong.’ She deliberately made her voice crisp. ‘The sooner I get rid of the media, the sooner we can get on with things.’
He finally let her take the tablet from him. Hardly daring to breathe, Brianna stepped back and away from the imposing man in front of her.
No. No. No...
The negative sound reverberated through her skull as she walked away. There was no way she was developing feelings for her boss.
Even if Sakis didn’t fire her the moment she betrayed even the slightest non-professional emotion, she had no intention of letting herself down like that ever again.
The tattoo on her ankle throbbed.
The larger one on her shoulder burned with the fierce reminder.
She’d spent two years in jail for her serious error in judgement after funnelling her need to be loved towards the wrong guy.
Making the same mistake again was not an option.
CHAPTER THREE
SAKIS WATCHED BRIANNA walk away; her back was held so rigid her upper half barely moved. His frown deepened. Something was wrong. Granted, this was the first crisis they’d been thrown into together, but her conduct up till now had been beyond exemplary.
Right up until she’d reacted strongly to the journalist’s question. A question he himself had not anticipated. He should’ve known that somehow his father would be dredged up like this. Should’ve known that, even from beyond the grave, the parent who’d held his family in such low, deplorable regard would not remain buried. He stomped on the pain riding just beneath his chest, the way he always did when he thought of his father. He refused to let the past haunt him. It no longer had any power over him.
After what his father had done to his family, to his mother especially, he deserved to be forgotten totally and utterly.
Unfortunately, at times like these, when the media thought they could get a whiff of scandal, they pounced. And this time, there was no escaping their rabid focus...
The deafening sound of the industrial-size vacuum starting up drew his attention from Brianna, reminding him that he had more important things to deal with than his hitherto unruffled personal assistant’s off behaviour, and the unwanted memories of a ghost.
He zipped his jumpsuit back up and strode over to the black, slick shoreline. Half a mile away, giant oil-absorbing booms floated around the perimeter of the contaminated water to catch the spreading spill. Closer to shore, right in the middle of where the oil poured out, ecologically safe chemicals pumped from huge sprays to dissolve as much of the slick as possible.
It’s not enough. It would never be enough because this shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
His phone rang and he recognised Theo’s number on his screen.
‘What’s happening, brother? Talk to me,’ Theo said.
Sakis summarised the situation as quickly as he could, leaving out nothing, even though he was very aware that the mention of kidnap would raise painful, unwanted memories for Theo.
‘Anything I can do from here?’ his brother asked. The only hint of his disturbance at being reminded of his own kidnap when he was eighteen was the slight ring of steel in his voice when he asked the question. ‘I can put you in touch with the right people if you want. I made it my business to find out who the right contacts are in a situation like this.’ His analytical brain wouldn’t have made him cope with his ordeal otherwise.
That was Theo through and through. He went after a problem until he had every imaginable scenario broken down, then he went after the solution with single-minded determination—which was why he fulfilled his role as trouble-shooter for Pantelides Inc so perfectly.
‘We’ve got it in hand. But perhaps you could cause an outrageous scandal where you are, distract these damned paparazzi from messing with my salvage operation.’
‘Hmm, I suppose I could skydive naked from the top of Cristo Redentor,’ Theo offered.
For the first time in what felt like days, Sakis’s lips cracked in a smile. ‘You love Rio too much to get yourself barred from the city for ever for blasphemy.’ His gaze flicked to where Brianna stood alone, having dispersed the last of the journalists. She was back on her tablet, her fingers busy on the glass keyboard.
Satisfaction oozed through him. Whatever had fractured his PA’s normal efficiency, she had it back again.
‘Everything’s in hand,’ he repeated, probably more to reassure himself that he had his emotions under control.
‘Great to hear. Keep me in the loop, ne?’
Sakis signed off and jumped into the nearest boat carrying a crew of six and the vacuum, and signalled to the pilot to head out.
For the next three hours, while sunlight prevailed, he worked with the crew to pump as much sludge of out the water as possible. From another boat nearby, the journalists to whom he’d granted access filmed the process. Some even asked intelligent questions that didn’t make his teeth grind.
Floodlights arrived, mounted on tripods on more boats, and he carried on working.
It was nearing midnight when, alerted to the arrival of the refresh crew, he straightened from where he’d been managing the pump. And froze.
‘What the hell?’
The salvage-crew captain glanced up sharply. ‘Excuse me, sir?’
But Sakis’s gaze was on the boat about twenty yards to his left, where Brianna held the nozzle of a chemical spray aimed at the slick, a distressed look on her face as she swung her arm back and forth over the water.
The first of the changeover crew was approaching on a motor-powered dinghy. Sakis hopped into the small vessel and directed it to where Brianna worked.
Seeing him approach on a direct course, she changed the angle of her nozzle to avoid spraying him, her face hurriedly set in its usual calm expression. It was almost as if the bleakness he’d glimpsed moments ago had been a mirage.
‘Mr Pantelides, did you need something?’
For some reason, the sound of his father’s name on her lips aggravated him. For several hours he’d managed not to think about his father. He wanted to keep it that way. ‘Put that hose down and get in.’
She turned the spray off, eyes widening. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Get in here. Now.’
‘I...I don’t understand,’ she said. Her voice had lost a little of the sharpness and she looked genuinely puzzled as she stared down at him.
He saw the long streak of oil across her cheek. Her once white T-shirt had now turned grimy and slick and her khaki cargo pants had suffered the same fate.
But not a single hair was out of place.
The dichotomy of dirt, flawless efficiency and the bleakness he’d glimpsed a moment ago intrigued him beyond definition. The intrigue escalated his irritation. ‘It’s almost midnight. You should’ve left here hours ago.’ He manoeuvred the dinghy until it bumped the boat, directly below where she stood on the starboard side.
From that angle, he couldn’t miss the landscape of her upper body—more specifically, the perfect shape of her breasts or the sleek line of her jaw and neck as she glanced down at him.
‘Oh. Well...I’m here to work, Mr Pantelides. Why should I have left?’
‘Because you’re not part of the salvage team, and even they work in six-hour shifts. Besides this—’ he waved at the nozzle in her hand ‘—is not part of your job description.’
‘I’m aware of what my job description is. But, if we’re being pedantic, you’re not part of the crew either. And yet here you are.’
Sakis felt a shake of surprise. In all her time with him, she’d never raised her voice or shown signs of feminine ire. But in the last few minutes, he’d seen intense emotion ream over her face and through her voice. Right now, Sakis had the distinct feeling she was extremely displeased with his directive. A small spurt of masochistic pleasure fizzed through him at the thought that he’d unruffled the unflappable Miss Moneypenny.
‘I’m the boss. I have the luxury of doing whatever the hell I want,’ he said softly, his gaze raking her face, secretly eager for further animated reaction.
What he got was unexpected. Her shoulders slumped and she shrugged. ‘Of course. But, just in case you’re worried about the corporate risks, I signed a waiver before coming aboard. So you’ll suffer no liability if anything happens to me.’
Irritation returned, bit deeper. ‘I don’t give a damn about personal liability or corporate risks. What I do give a damn about is your ability to function properly tomorrow if you don’t get enough sleep. You’ve been up for over eighteen hours. So, unless you have super powers I’m not aware of, put that hose down and get down here.’ He held out a hand, unwilling to examine this almost clawing need to take care of her.
She didn’t put the hose down. Instead she handed it over to a salvage crew member. Finally, she faced Sakis.
‘Fine. You win.’ Again he saw the tiniest mutinous set to her lips and wondered why that little action pleased him so much.
He was tired; he must be hallucinating. He certainly wasn’t thinking straight if the thought of getting under his executive assistant’s skin held so much of his interest.
She swung long, slim legs over the side of the boat and dropped into the dinghy. The movement made the vessel sway. She swayed with it, and threw out a hand to steady herself as Sakis turned.
Her torso bumped his arm and her hand landed on his shoulder as she tried to find her feet. His arm snagged her waist, encountered firm, warm muscle beneath his fingers.
Heat punched through his chest and arrowed straight for his groin.
‘Stasi!’
‘I...I’m sorry,’ she stammered, pulling away with a skittishness very unlike her.
‘No harm done,’ he murmured. But Sakis wasn’t so hot on that reassurance. Harm was being done to his insides. Heat continued to ravage him, firing sensations he sure as hell didn’t want fired up. And especially not with his PA.
A quick glance showed she’d retreated to the farthest part of the small dinghy with her arms crossed primly around her middle and her face averted from his. He tried not to let his gaze drop to her plump breasts...but, Theos, it was hard not to notice their tempting fullness.
With a muttered curse, his hand tightened on the rudder of the dinghy and steered it towards shore.
This time she didn’t refuse his offer of help when they stepped into the shallow water. After making sure the vessel was secure, he followed her onto the floodlit beach.
When he neared, he caught another glimpse of distress on her face.
‘What’s wrong? Why were you on the salvage boat? And, before you trot out “nothing”, I’d advise you not to insult my intelligence.’
He saw her hesitate, then shove her hands into her pockets. This time, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her chest. Thankfully, she didn’t notice because her gaze wasn’t on him.
‘I was talking to the some of the locals earlier. This cove was a special place for them, a sanctuary. I...I felt bad about what’s happened.’
Guilt lanced through him. But, more than that, the rare glimpse into Brianna Moneypenny’s human side intrigued him more than ever. ‘I’ll make sure it’s returned to them as pristine as it once was.’
Her gaze flew up and connected with his, surprise and pleasure reflected in her eyes. ‘That’s good. It’s not nice when your sanctuary is ripped away from you.’ The pain accompanying those words made him frown. Before he could probe deeper, she stepped back. ‘Anyway, I assured them you would make it right.’
‘Thank you.’
She started to walk towards the fleet of four-wheelers a short distance away. Their driver stood next to the first one.
‘I reserved a suite for you at the Noire. Your case was taken there a few hours ago and your laptop and phones are in the jeep. I’ll see you in the morning, Mr Pantelides,’ she tagged on.
Sakis froze. ‘You’ll see me in the morning? Aren’t you coming with me?’
‘No,’ she said.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m not staying at the hotel.’
‘Where exactly are you staying?’
She indicated the double row of yellow tents set up further up on the beach, away from the bustle of the clean-up work.
‘I’ve secured a tent and put my stuff in there.’
‘What’s wrong with staying at the same hotel I’m staying in?’
‘Nothing, except they didn’t have any more rooms. The suite I reserved for you was the last one. The other hotels are too far away to make the commute efficient.’
Sakis shook his head. ‘You’ve been on your feet all day with barely a break— Don’t argue with me, Moneypenny,’ He raised a hand when she started to speak. ‘You’re not sleeping in a flimsy tent on the beach with machines blasting away all around you. Go and get your things.’
‘I assure you, it’s more than adequate.’
‘No. You say I have a suite?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then there is no reason why we can’t share it.’
‘I would rather not, Mr Pantelides.’
The outright refusal shocked and annoyed him in equal measures. Also another first from Brianna Moneypenny was the fact that she wasn’t quite meeting his gaze. ‘Why would you rather not?’
She hesitated.
‘Look at me, Moneypenny,’ he commanded.
Blue eyes... No, they weren’t quite blue. They were a shade of aquamarine, wide, lushly lashed and beautiful...and they met his in frank challenge. ‘Your room is a single suite with one double bed. It’s not suitable for two, um, professionals, and I’d rather not have to share my personal space.’
Sakis thought of the countless women who would jump at the chance to share ‘personal space’ with him.
He thought of all the women who would kill to share a double bed with him.
Then he thought of why he was here, in this place: with his oil contaminating a once incredibly beautiful beach; his crew missing; and the tabloid press just waiting for him to slip up, to show them that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.
The sick feeling that he’d forced down but never quite suppressed enough threatened to rise again. It was the same mingled despair and anger he’d felt when Theo had been taken. The same sense of helplessness when he’d been unable to do anything to stop his mother fading away before his eyes, her pain raw and wrenching after what his father and the media had done to her.
‘I don’t give a damn about your personal space. What I do give a damn about is your ability to fire on all cylinders. We discussed this—you being up to standing by me in this situation we find ourselves in. You assured me you were up to the task. And yet, for the last ten minutes, you’ve shown a certain...mutiny that makes me wonder whether you’re equipped to handle what’s coming.’
Her outrage made her breathing erratic. ‘I don’t think that’s a fair observation, sir. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, and I’m more than capable of handling whatever comes. Just because I disagree with you on one small issue doesn’t make me mutinous. I’m thinking about you.’
‘Then prove it. Stop arguing with me and get in the jeep.’
She opened her mouth; closed it again. When she looked at him, her eyes held a hint of fire he’d seen more than once today. The fire he’d tried—and failed—to bank fired up deep in his groin.
‘I’ll go and get my things,’ she said.
‘No need.’ He exchanged glances with the driver and the young man headed towards the row of tents. Sakis leaned against the jeep’s hood. ‘You can fill me in on the results of your social media campaign while we wait.’
He saw how eagerly she snatched at her tablet and suppressed another bout of irritation. Whatever was causing this abnormal behaviour, he needed to nip it in the bud pretty darned quick. The crisis on his hands needed all his attention.
‘I’ve found six individuals who I think will be useful to us. One’s a professor of marine biology based in Guinea Bissau. Another, a husband and wife team who are experts in wildlife rescue. They specialise in disaster rescue such as this. The other three have no specialities but they have a huge social media following and are known for volunteering on humanitarian missions. I’m having all six vetted by our security team. If they pass the security test, I’ll arrange for them to be flown over tomorrow.’