A loud beep signalling an incoming call from the limo’s phone startled her into dropping his socks. She hastily picked them up and slid into the car. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sakis step into his trousers. Silently, she held out the remaining items and picked up the phone.
‘Pantelides Shipping,’ she said into the receiver as she picked up her electronic tablet. She listened calmly to the voice at the other end of the line, tapping away at her keyboard as she added to the ever-growing to-do list.
By the time Sakis slid next to her, and slammed the door, impeccably dressed, she was on her fifth item. She paused long enough to secure her seat belt before resuming her typing.
‘The only answer I have for you right now is no comment. Sorry, no can do.’ Sakis stiffened beside her. ‘Absolutely not. No news outlet will be getting exclusives. Pantelides Shipping will issue one press release within the hour. It will be posted on our company’s website and affiliated media and social network links with the relevant contact details. If you have any questions after that, contact our press office.’
‘Tabloid or mainstream media?’ Sakis asked the moment she hung up.
‘Fleet Street. They want to verify what they’ve heard.’ The phone rang again. Seeing the number of another tabloid, she ignored it. Sakis had more pressing phone calls to make. She passed him the headset connected to the call she’d put on hold for the last ten minutes.
The tightening of his jaw was almost imperceptible before complete control slid back into place. His fingers brushed hers as he took the device from her. The unnerving voltage that came from touching Sakis made her heartbeat momentarily fluctuate but that was yet another thing she took in her stride.
His deep voice brimmed with authority and bone-deep assuredness. It held the barest hint of his Greek heritage but Brianna knew he spoke his mother tongue with the same stunning fluency and efficiency with which he ran the crude-oil brokerage arm of Pantelides Shipping, his family’s multi-billion-dollar conglomerate.
‘Mr President, please allow me to express my deepest regret at the situation we find ourselves in. Of course, my company takes full responsibility for this incident and will make every effort to ensure minimal ecological and economic distress. Yes, I have a fifty-man expert salvage and investigation crew on its way. They’ll assess what needs to be done... Yes, I agree. I’ll be there at the site within the next twelve hours.’
Brianna’s fingers flew over her tablet as she absorbed the conversation and planned accordingly. By the time Sakis concluded the call, she had his private jet and necessary flight crew on standby.
They both stopped as the sleek phone rang again.
‘Would you like me to get it?’ Brianna asked.
Sakis shook his head. ‘No. I’m the head of the company. The buck stops with me.’ His gaze snagged hers with a compelling look that held hers captive. ‘This is going to get worse before it gets better. Are you up to the task, Miss Moneypenny?’
Brianna forced herself to breathe, even as the tingle in her shoulder reminded her of the solemn vow she’d taken in a dark, cold room two years ago.
I refuse to sink.
She swallowed and firmed her spine. ‘Yes, I’m up to the task, Mr Pantelides.’
Dark-green eyes the colour of fresh moss held hers for a moment longer. Then he gave a curt nod and picked up the phone.
‘Pantelides,’ he clipped out.
For the rest of the journey to Pantelides Towers, Brianna immersed herself in doing what she did best—anticipating her boss’s every need and fulfilling it without so much as a whisper-light ruffle.
It was the only way she knew how to function nowadays.
By the time she handed their emergency suitcases to his helicopter pilot and followed Sakis into the lift that would take them to the helipad at the top of Pantelides Towers, they had a firm idea of what lay ahead of them.
There was nothing they could do to stop the crude oil spilling into the South Atlantic—at least not until the salvage team got there and went into action.
But, glancing at him, Brianna knew it wasn’t only the disaster that had put the strain on Sakis’s face. It was also being hit with the unexpected.
If there was one thing Sakis hated, it was surprises. It was why he always out-thought his opponents by a dozen moves, so he couldn’t be surprised. Having gained a little insight into his past from working with him, Brianna wasn’t surprised.
The devastating bombshell Sakis’s father had dropped on his family when Sakis had 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