Her gaze slid to the file marked confidential lying so innocuously on the table, fear and trepidation eating away inside her. Then she forced her gaze to meet his. ‘Of course.’
The hard glint in his eyes softened a touch. ‘Good. I’ll see you in a few hours. Or sooner, if anything needs my attention.’
He stepped into the room and the electronic door slid shut behind him. Brianna gasped at the bereft feeling that hollowed out her stomach.
He isn’t shutting you out. It’s just a delicate situation that needs careful handling.
Nevertheless, as she walked back towards her office and desk situated just outside Sakis’s massive office suite, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d lost a part of her functioning self.
Ridiculous.
For the next several hours, she threw herself into her work. At two o’clock on the button, her phone rang.
‘I haven’t had an update in four hours,’ came Sakis’s terse demand.
‘That’s because everything’s in hand. You have enough on your plate without resorting to micro-management,’ she snapped, then bit her lip. She was letting her anxiety get the better of her. ‘What I mean is, you have the right people in place to deal with this. Let them do their jobs. It’s what you pay them for, after all.’
‘Duly noted.’ A little bit of the terseness had leached from his voice but the strain still remained. She could barely hold back from asking the question burning on her lips: is Greg Landers one of those challenging to take over Pantelides Shipping? ‘Update me anyway.’
‘The tug boat is on site and preparing to move the tanker away. The salvage crew co-ordinator tells me our marine biologist is providing invaluable advice, so we scored big there.’
‘You scored big.’ His voice had dropped lower, grown more intimate. A fresh tingle washed over her.
‘Um...I guess. The social media campaign has garnered almost a million followers and the feedback shows a high percentage support Pantelides Shipping’s stance on the salvage and clean-up process. The blogger is doing a superb job, too.’
‘Brianna?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m glad I took your advice about the media campaign. It’s averted a lot of the bad press we could’ve had with this crash.’
Her normal, professional, politically correct answer faded on her tongue. Heart hammering, she gripped the phone harder and spoke from the heart. ‘I care about this company. I didn’t want to see its reputation suffer.’
‘Why? Why do you care?’ His voice had dropped even lower.
‘You...you gave me a chance when I thought I would have none. You could’ve chosen someone else from over a hundred applicants for this job. You chose me. I don’t take that lightly.’
‘Don’t sell yourself short, Brianna. I didn’t pick your name out of a box. I picked you because you’re special. And you continue to prove to me every day what a valuable asset you are.’
She loved the way he said her name. The realisation sent a pulse of heat rushing through her.
‘Thank you, Mr Pantelides.’
‘Sakis,’ came the rumbled response.
She shook her head in immediate refusal, even though he couldn’t see her. ‘N...no,’ she finally managed.
‘I will get you to call me Sakis before very long.’ His voice held a rough texture that made her tremble.
Closing her eyes, she forced herself to breathe and focus. ‘How are things going with the...the board meeting?’
‘Most of the key players have been identified. I’ve fired the warning shot. They can heed it or they can choose to come at me again.’ His words held a distinct relish that made her think he almost welcomed the challenge of his authority. Sakis was a man who needed an outlet for his passions, hence the rowing when he could, and the fully equipped gyms in his penthouse and homes all around the world.
He would be just as passionate in the bedroom. She hurriedly pushed the thought away.
‘Have we heard anything else?’ he asked, his voice turning brisk once more.
She knew he meant the missing crew. ‘No, nothing. The search parameters have been widened.’ And because she feared what would spill from her lips if she hung on, she said, ‘I need to make a few more phone calls; rearrange your schedule...’
He went silent for several seconds, then he sighed. ‘If Lowell’s wife calls, put her straight through to me.’
‘I will.’ She hung up quickly before she could ask about what he’d found out. Unwilling even to think of it, she threw herself back to her work.
At six, the executive chef Sakis employed for his senior staff poked his head through her office door and asked if she wanted dinner.
She rolled her shoulders, registered the stiffness in her body and shook her head.
‘I’m going to hit the gym first, Tom. Then I’ll forage for myself, thanks.’
He nodded and left.
Picking up her phone and tablet, she quickly made her way via the turbo lift to the sixtieth floor, where Sakis’s private multi-roomed penthouse suites were located. There were six suites in total, four separate and two inter-connected. Sakis used the largest suite which was linked by a set of double doors to her own suite when she stayed here. From this high, the view across London’s night sky was stunning. The Opera House gleamed beneath the iconic London Eye, with the Oxo Tower’s famous lights glittering over the South Bank.
She took the shortcut through Sakis’s living room, her feet slowing as they usually did when confronted with the visually stunning architectural design of the penthouse.
One side was taken up by a rough sandstone wall dominated by a huge fireplace regulated by a computerised temperature monitor. Directly in front of the fireplace, large slate-coloured, square-shaped sofas were grouped around an enormous stark white rug, which was the only covering on the highly polished marble floors.
Beyond the seating area, on carefully selected pedestals and on the walls were displayed works of art ranging from an exquisite pair of katanas, said to have belonged to a notorious Samurai, to a post-impressionist painting by Rousseau that galleries around the world vied for the opportunity to exhibit.
Moving towards her own suite, her gaze was drawn outside to the gleaming infinity pool that stretched out beyond the gleaming windows. The first time she’d seen it, she’d gasped with awe and thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t suffer from vertigo when Sakis had shown her around the large deck where the only protection from the elements was a steel and glass railing.
From this high up, the Thames was a dark ribbon interspersed by centuries-old bridges, and from where she stood she could almost make out the Tube station where she caught the train to her flat.
Her flat. Her sanctuary. The place she hadn’t been for days. The place she could lose if Sakis ever found out who she really was.
Her spine straightened as she approached the large wooden swivel door that led to her suite.
As long as she had breath in her body she would fight for what she’d salvaged from the embers of her previous life. Greg wouldn’t be allowed to win a second time.
Entering the bedroom where Sakis had insisted she kept a fully furnished wardrobe in case he needed to travel with her at short notice, she changed into her pair of three-quarter-length Lycra training shorts and a cropped T-shirt.
She pounded the treadmill for half an hour, until endorphins pumped through her system and sweat poured off her skin. Next she tackled the elliptical trainer.
She