What the Greek Can't Resist

by Maya Blake

  Neither could she reveal the secret that would’ve destroyed his parents.

  The familiar guilt for the secret she carried and could never share made her rise from her seat. ‘I...I’d better go and brush up on my interview techniques.’

  In the hallway, she paused for a second to steady her breathing. Then she straightened.

  Morgan was gone. Terry and Sarah were her responsibility now.

  Briskly, Perla entered her bedroom and busied herself sorting through her meagre clothes. Three interviews in two days meant she would have to be inventive with her wardrobe.

  The black skirt and satin shirt she’d worn to London would have to make another appearance. As would the black dress she’d worn the night she’d met Ari.

  Laying the garments on the bed, she couldn’t help the treacherous bite of sensation that nipped at her. Both outfits held memories she’d rather forget, of Ari’s hands on her body, undressing her, stripping her bare before taking her with masterful possession.

  Heat flared high, making her fingers shake as she scraped back her hair and forced the memories away.

  She had no business thinking about another man in this house; in this room. Even if that man was the only person in her life who’d made her feel special and wanted for a brief moment in time. Even if the memory of his face as he’d taken her forced feelings of protectiveness as well as desire to surge into her chest.

  It was over and done with. Move on.

  * * *

  ‘Congratulations and welcome to the company.’

  Perla heard the words from far off, still numbly disbelieving that she’d actually got through the gruelling interviews to secure a job on the Pantelides Luxe events management team.

  ‘I...thank you.’

  The two other candidates who’d also been offered similar jobs out of the twenty-five candidates wore similar expressions of pleased wonderment.

  She’d got the job, with a salary and benefits that had left her mouth agape when she’d read them on her contract. Now she forced herself to focus as the head of HR continued to speak.

  ‘For those who require the option, your first month’s salary will be paid to you in advance of month’s end. Just tick that option when you sign your contract. But remember if you should decide to leave the company before the first thirty days are up, you will be required to reimburse the company.’ He looked directly at her as he said that.

  Slowly anger and embarrassment replaced the stunned pleasure.

  Had Ari Pantelides been so unprofessional as to share her private financial affairs with others? It was bad enough that she’d seen the morbidly curious looks on a few of the employees’ faces as she’d been introduced. She was well aware that the widow of the man whose actions had caused a Pantelides oil tanker to crash and pollute a breathtaking African coast only a few short months ago was the last person they expected to seek employment in this company.

  Knowing that her financial dire straits were being shared with others made her skin crawl with shame.

  Forcing her head high, she returned the older man’s stare, barely hearing the end of his welcome speech as she tried to grapple with her emotions. Fifteen minutes later, contract in hand, she started to leave the room.

  The low hum of her mobile had her rooting through her handbag.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘I understand congratulations are in order.’ The voice, deep and gravel-rough, sent a pulse of heat through her belly.

  ‘I...how did you get my phone number?’ she blurted to cover her inner floundering.

  ‘You’re now my employee, Perla. Prepare yourself for the fact that some of your life is now an open book to me.’

  A shiver went through her at the low, dark promise. As much as she tried to tell herself she wasn’t affected, his voice did things to her that were indecent. Her hand tightened on the phone. ‘So open that you decided to share some of it with your HR director?’ she demanded.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Did you tell your HR director that I needed money?’ The very thought of it made her flush with mortification.

  ‘Why would I do that?’ He sounded amused. Vaguely it occurred to her that he didn’t sound as tormented and as bleak as he had a few days ago. Why that thought lifted her heart, she refused to contemplate as she reminded herself why she was annoyed with him.

  ‘Because he offered a month’s salary in advance. I may have been out of the general workforce a while but even I know that salaries don’t get paid in advance.’

  ‘Did he offer only you that option?’ he asked.

  ‘No, he offered it to the other new employees as well.’

  He remained silent for several heartbeats. ‘The reason for that perk is because most of the people I hire for the role you’re filling are young, dynamic graduates. Broke, young, dynamic graduates who I expect to hit the ground running. The last thing I want them to be thinking about is how to pay their rent or feed themselves. If and when I headhunt other talent, I offer them signing-on bonuses too. Either way, everyone gets the same treatment.’

  The bruised hurt eased a little. ‘Oh, so I wasn’t singled out for special treatment?’

  ‘Now you sound disappointed,’ he mocked in a low tone that was equally as lethal to her senses.

  ‘I’m not.’ And of course, now he’d explained the reason for the stipulation, it made total sense. How better to keep his employees happy and loyal than to ease the one thing certain to add to their anxiety in their first months of employment? Realising there was something else she needed to do, she cleared her throat. ‘Thank you...for giving me this opportunity. I promise I won’t let you down.’

  Again a thoughtful silence greeted her words. ‘I’m glad to hear it, Perla, because I’m giving you the chance to prove it sooner rather than later.’

  Her heart jumped into her throat. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It means I’m throwing you in at the deep end. You fly out to join me in Miami after your accelerated orientation tomorrow. My assistant will provide you with the details.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  TEN VIP GUESTS.

  Miami Fashion Week.

  What could go wrong? It turned out to be plenty as Perla doused yet another metaphorical fire four days later, this time in the form of a wardrobe malfunction for one of the guests—a social media mogul’s wife, minutes before she was due to head down to the Pantelides V3 Hotel & Casino.

  She curbed the urge to blurt out that she was an events organiser not a stylist and placed a phone call to summon the harried stylist. Twenty minutes later, after the crisis had been averted, the young blonde cast a grateful glance at Perla as they rode the lift down to the lobby.

  ‘I should’ve gone for something like what you’re wearing instead of this...this thing.’ She indicated the blue organza multi-layered dress that showed off more cleavage and bare back than Perla would ever be comfortable showing.

  Her own knee-length silk dress, although slashed dramatically at the waist and side, was covered with thin mesh netting that made her feel not quite so...exposed. And the long fitted sleeves made of the softest leather offered further boosting confidence.

  ‘That black totally rocks against the vivid colour of your hair. You must give me the name of your colourist. Everyone tells me red and curly is the new black this season.’ The blonde flicked her straight hair back and offered a brittle smile.

  Again Perla bit her tongue, smiled back and discreetly checked her watch. The pre-runway show drinks would be served in exactly six minutes. Although she realised she was probably being rude by not responding and discussing her now extensive wardrobe that had come courtesy of her generous Pantelides clothes expense account, she couldn’t think beyond the fact that in a few minutes she’d be coming face to face with Ari for the first time i
n almost a week.

  By the time she’d arrived in Miami, he’d left for New York and she’d been given three days to prep for the arrival of the special guests, who ranged from a young senator to Hollywood royalty.

  The earlier sailing trip around Biscayne Bay had been a success despite one guest almost ending up being launched overboard after one too many mojitos.

  Keeping her fingers crossed for the same success tonight, she pasted a smile on her face as the lift doors opened onto the foyer that led to the cordoned-off VIP lounges where the runway shows were being held.

  Ari Pantelides stood with a group of guests. Head and shoulders above most men, he was the first person she saw when she stepped forward.

  The punch to her solar plexus winded her for an instant. Her mouth dried as she took in his imposing shoulders and breathtaking physique.

  It really was a sin how one man could possess such a strikingly commanding presence. He turned to another guest and Perla caught a glimpse of that designer stubble. The memory of its roughness against her breasts and thighs sent a pulse of heat straight between her legs.

  God, she really needed to get a grip. Like, right now!

  Of course, he chose that moment to turn his head towards her.

  Hooded eyes speared hers before they rose to rest on her hair. Recalling his fascination with her hair, she fought the foolish urge to touch the elaborate knot she’d worked the tresses into.

  You’re here to work!

  The stern reminder focused her a little.

  Turning to the blonde woman at her side, she said, ‘I’ll be around if you require anything else, Mrs Hamilton. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the show in an hour.’

  She left Selena Hamilton to find her husband and headed straight for the head waiter. After reassuring herself that everything was running smoothly, she found a quiet corner and activated her mini tablet. Double and triple-checking every detail was essential. The two designers whose shows they would be visiting were temperamental at the best of times and, with runway shows, seating arrangements could descend into chaos with little warning.

  ‘Kalispera, Perla.’

  Her hand trembled and she nearly lost her hold on her tablet as the deep voice washed over her. Her one visit to Santorini meant she understood the greeting.

  Her head snapped up and her eyes collided with steady hazel eyes. ‘Good evening, Ar...Mr Pantelides. How was your trip?’

  His eyes narrowed slightly at the hasty correction but he didn’t comment on it. ‘Predictable. You seem to have settled in okay. I hear your boat trip today was interesting.’

  It wasn’t a question and she had very little doubt that he’d been checking up on her since her arrival.

  ‘Yes, it hasn’t been smooth sailing, pardon the pun, but the orientation was very useful. And your head of Events let me shadow him for a day to get the hang of things. That was useful too...’ She stopped when she realised she was babbling. But, with him standing so close, she was dealt the full force of his powerful aura and the spicy scent of his aftershave. She’d smelled him up close and personal and knew continuing to breathe him in was not a very wise idea. ‘Anyway, I need to get back to work.’

  He stopped her with a brush of his fingers down her arm. Electricity shot through her body. ‘How did your in-laws take your new status?’ he asked.

  She froze, looked at him to see if he was being sarcastic but his eyes only held mild interest. ‘A lot better than some of the Pantelides employees.’ She bit her lip at the slip. She’d meant to let the avidly curious looks and whispers behind her back slide right over her. But it’d been hard not to be affected.

  Her stomach hollowed when his eyes narrowed. ‘Who’s been giving you a hard time?’ he asked, his voice low and dangerous enough to send a shiver down her spine.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t stop long enough to take names. Besides, can you really blame them? Morgan’s actions nearly brought down your company.’

  He stilled. ‘So you know the full details of what he did?’

  Perla frowned. ‘Of course I know. Even though your brother tried to protect me from the whole truth, I got enough from the papers to put the pieces together. Frankly, I was surprised Morgan’s benefits weren’t stripped from him, all things considered.’

  His jaw clenched for a moment before his face cleared. ‘Those benefits weren’t advantageous to you in the end, though, were they? It must have been upsetting to find out that the man you loved would betray you that way?’ This time there was a definite question in his tone. His incisive gaze bored right into her. As if he was trying to understand her. And, more specifically, her actions on the night they’d met.

  To admit that she hadn’t been thinking straight when she’d slept with him—least of all of her dead husband—would only make things worse. ‘It’s not easy to find out, no.’ But compared to the bombshell she’d received on the night of her wedding it was a walk in the park.

  ‘I’m aware that betrayal has a way of messing with people’s minds.’ A hint of that torment she’d glimpsed made an appearance. As did the curiously strong need to alleviate it for him.

  Brushing it away, she answered, ‘Are we talking people generally or do you have personal knowledge of this?’

  He stepped closer, blocking out the rest of the room and giving her no choice but to inhale his scent, to look into those unique gold-flecked hazel eyes. ‘I’ve been dealt a few life lessons but I’m talking about you. Was that why you slept with me?’ he breathed with a quiet intensity. ‘To assuage your sense of betrayal?’

  ‘Why are we going over this again?’

  He murmured something pithy under his breath. ‘Perhaps I’m trying to make sense of it all. Trying to square things in my mind so I can move on.’

  Shame scythed through her as she admitted that she didn’t want it squared away. She wanted to remember that night; to treasure it as the special moment in time it’d been for her. Of course, she knew she could never tell him that.

  Straightening her spine, she returned his stare. ‘Morgan’s decisions and actions were his own. For my part, I married him for better or worse; he was the man I’d pledged to honour and cherish. And yes, before you remind me again, I broke that vow before he was even buried. Was I upset that things turned out the way they did? Of course I am.’ A trill of laughter from a guest grounded her to where she was. ‘I also think that this is the last place we should be discussing this. Frankly, I’d prefer it if we buried the subject once and for all. Can we do that, please?’

  He stared down at her for several minutes before he inhaled deeply. He took a single step back and nodded. ‘Consider the matter buried.’

  She managed to nod before glancing over his shoulder. Several guests were looking their way, no doubt wondering why she’d commandeered Ari’s attention. ‘I need to get back to work, earn the generous salary you’re paying me.’

  His lips pursed but he gave her enough room to slide past. ‘I look forward to seeing you in action.’

  Perla wasn’t sure if it was a threat or anticipation. And she couldn’t dwell on it because her insides were churning from the exchange. Once again, it had seemed as if her reason for sleeping with him mattered to him.

  Far from being a distraction as he’d claimed, it seemed he couldn’t stop thinking about that night any more than she could.

  Could she trust him not to bring it up again? Could she trust herself not to blurt out that it’d meant more than just a means to alleviate her pain?

  She sucked in a deep breath and pinned a smile on her face. She’d survived Morgan and the debacle that had been her marriage.

  She was a lot stronger now for it. She just needed to keep reminding herself of it.

  * * *

  Both runway shows went without a hitch. Watching from the back, Perla breathed a sigh of relief whe
n the lights went up and her guests started to finish off their vintage champagne. Another few minutes and she could start herding them back to the limos to return to the Pantelides Casino for the gambling part of the evening. That was the most important part because it was why Ari had organised this event in the first place—

  ‘Relax,’ Ari said from beside her. How could a man so big, move so silently? ‘You’re off to a good start if Selena Hamilton is singing your praises. According to her, the two of you are BFFs now.’ He picked up two glasses of pink champagne from a hovering waiter’s tray and offered one to her.

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far but I’m glad she’s pleased.’ She took the champagne but didn’t take a sip, much as she wanted to. The need for liquid courage was what had placed her in Ari Pantelides’s crosshairs in the first place.

  She was not going to make the mistake of drinking around him ever again.

  ‘She isn’t the only one who is impressed by your efficiency.’

  Unable to help herself, she looked up at him. Hazel eyes captured hers and her breath snagged in her chest. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Her husband was equally effusive. Twice as much, in fact.’ A hard bite had materialised in his tone.

  She swallowed. ‘What are you implying?’

  He shrugged. ‘He has wandering hands. Make sure you’re not caught between them.’

  On the surface, it seemed like a fair warning. Perhaps she was reading more into the situation than was necessary. They stared at each other for several heartbeats before she nodded. ‘Thanks for the heads-up.’

  His eyes flicked to her hair and again the punch of heat returned. Never in her wildest imagination would she have thought the colour of her hair would produce such a reaction. But every time Ari’s gaze slid hungrily over her hair she felt hot, bothered and more than a little on edge. Before she could stop it, a small sound escaped her throat.

  His gaze locked on hers once more. The air thickened around them, blocking the sounds of the party and locking them in their own sensual cocoon.