What the Greek's Money Can't Buy by Maya Blake Page A

gaze.
    His grim smile held a wealth of masculine arrogance as he shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. Taking his seat opposite her, he set his phone—which had thankfully stopped pinging—on a nearby table. ‘A...poor choice of words, Moneypenny. What I mean is, it’s the middle of the night in London. Not much we can do from here.’
    ‘I can still pull up as much information as I can on the companies...’
    He shook his head. ‘I already have people working on that. You need to get some sleep. I need you sharp and—’
    ‘You need to stop treating me like some fragile flower and let me do my job!’
    Moss-green eyes narrowed. ‘Excuse me?’
    Anger lent her voice desperation and she leaned forward, hands planted on the table separating them. The fact that this close she could almost touch the stubble layering his hard, chiselled jaw and see the darker, mesmerising flecks in his irises sparked another tingle of awareness through her. But the remotest possibility that Greg could be lurking in the periphery of her life, ready to expose her, made her stand her ground.
    She’d gone through too much, sacrificing everything she had to prevent her debilitating weakness from being exposed. She no longer needed love. She’d learned that she could live without it. What she couldn’t live with was having her previous sins exposed to Sakis Pantelides.
    ‘You seem to think I need a full night’s sleep or a warm bed to function properly, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth.’ Warning bells rang in her head, telling her seriously to apply brakes on her runaway mouth. But she couldn’t help herself. ‘I’ve slept in places where I had to keep one eye open or risk losing more than just the clothes on my back. So please don’t treat me like some pampered princess who needs her beauty sleep or she’ll go to pieces.’
    His eyes narrowed, followed almost instantly by a keen speculation that screamed what was coming next. ‘When did you sleep rough?’ His voice was low, husky, full of unabashed curiosity.
    Alarm bells shrieked harder, in tandem with the jet engines powering for take-off. Sharp memories rose, images of drug dens and foul-smelling narcotics bringing nausea she fought to keep down. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
    He leaned forward on his elbows and stared her down. ‘Yes, it does. Answer me.’
    ‘It was a very long time ago, Mr Pantelides.’
    ‘Sakis,’ he commanded in that low, deep tone that sent a shiver through her.
    Again she shook her head. ‘Let’s just say my childhood wasn’t as rosy as the average child’s, but I pulled through.’
    ‘You were an orphan?’ he probed.
    ‘No, I wasn’t, but I might as well have been.’ Because her junkie mother had been no use to herself, never mind the child she’d given birth to. The remembered pain bruised her insides and unshed tears burned the backs of her eyes. She blinked rapidly to stop them falling but a furtive glance showed Sakis had noticed the crack in her composure.
    The plane lifted off the ground and shot into the starlit sky.
    Sakis’s gaze remained on her for long minutes. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he asked gently.
    Brianna’s heart hammered harder. ‘No.’ She’d already said too much, revealed far more than was wise. Deliberately unclenching her fists, she prayed he would let the matter rest.
    The jet started to level out. Snatching his phone from the table, Sakis nodded and unbuckled his seatbelt. ‘Regardless of your protests, you need to sleep.’ He held out his hand to her. The look on his face told her nothing but her acquiescence would please him.
    Immensely relieved that he wasn’t probing into her past any longer, she thought it wise to stifle further protest. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she placed her hand in his and stood. ‘If I do, then so do you.’
    His smile was unexpected. And breath-stealing. Heat churned within her belly, sending an arrow of need straight between her thighs.
    ‘We’ve