What the Greek Can't Resist

by Maya Blake

  She’d long ago harboured hopes that someone would look at her like that. She’d foolishly believed that someone would be Morgan. Instead, he’d married her and blackmailed her into deceit and humiliation.

  As an orphan, tossed from foster home to foster home all her childhood, she’d learned to mask the raw pain and despair of being the odd child that nobody wanted. But the hollow feeling in her belly had never gone away.

  Meeting Morgan and suddenly finding herself the sole focus of his charm and wit had tricked her naïve self into believing she’d finally found someone who loved and cared for her, not out of duty, or because the state was paying them to do so, but because she was worth loving.

  He’d roughly pulled the wool from her eyes within days of their wedding. But, even then, she’d foolishly believed she could salvage something from the only steady relationship she’d ever known. But weeks had dragged into months and months into years and by the time she’d accepted that she’d once again been cast aside, like a broken toy no one wanted to play with, it’d been too late to leave.

  Her shaky breath drew glances from Sakis and Brianna but she couldn’t look them in the face. She’d revealed so much already. She feared opening her mouth would be catastrophic, especially as she could feel Sakis Pantelides’s keen gaze boring into her.

  God, please don’t let him guess what I did with his brother.

  ‘I think it’s time we left Mrs Lowell in peace, Sakis,’ Brianna murmured.

  Sakis nodded. ‘My lawyers will be in touch with the paperwork regarding your husband’s employment entitlements. But if you need anything in the meantime, please do not hesitate to get in touch.’

  She glanced at him and immediately glanced away when his gaze narrowed.

  He can’t know!

  Panic clawed at her. Surely Arion hadn’t told him?

  From the corner of her eye she saw Morgan’s parents heading towards them. Clearing her throat, she fought the panic and pasted a suitable smile on her face.

  No matter what had gone on between Morgan and her, Terry and Sarah Lowell had welcomed her into their hearts. She couldn’t repay them with betrayal.

  ‘I appreciate it, Mr Pantelides. Have a safe journey back to London.’

  She turned away, grateful for the distraction that Morgan’s wheelchair-bound mother brought to stop her wondering just what Sakis Pantelides knew about her carnal activities with his brother.

  And she certainly couldn’t think about Arion Pantelides and the heat that rushed under her skin every time she relived what had happened in his hotel room three days ago.

  What had happened between them was now firmly in the past. Never to be repeated. What she needed to concentrate on now was picking up the shattered pieces and commencing the uphill battle that was the rest of her life.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Three months later.

  PERLA LOOKED UP for the umpteenth time as the Pantelides Inc. reception phone rang. The superbly groomed receptionist answered in dulcet tones and sliced another cool look at Perla before turning away.

  Her teeth gritted and for a second she fought the urge to march over to the desk and demand she call upstairs again and get her the meeting she’d come here for.

  Instead, she smoothed her hand down the black pencil skirt she’d spent her dwindling funds on and forced herself to remain seated. She’d turned up with no prior appointment, but only because her phone calls and emails had gone unanswered. And, truth be told, she’d only been waiting an hour and a half.

  But being in the architecturally imposing building that bore the Pantelides name made her nerves jangle with each heartbeat, despite chastising herself that the likelihood that Arion Pantelides was in residence was negligible.

  As the head of Pantelides Luxe, the branch of the conglomerate that ran its luxury hotels and casinos around the world—yes, she’d researched him in a moment of madness—Arion Pantelides spent very little time in England. And even if he were here, she’d asked for an appointment with the head of HR in Sakis’s absence, not his brother.

  So, really, there was no need for her to feel as if she were playing dare in an electric lightning storm.

  Nevertheless, when the phone rang again, she held her breath. Expertly waxed eyebrows arched her way and a manicured hand motioned her forward.

  Sighing her relief, Perla approached the desk as the receptionist hung up.

  With another glance, which was now tinged with heavy speculation, the receptionist slid a visitor’s badge along with a short silver key across the sleek glass counter.

  ‘Please wear this at all times. Take the last lift on the right. Turn the key and press the button.’

  Perla wanted to ask which floor she needed but she didn’t want to look a fool, so she nodded her thanks and walked on shaky feet to the lift.

  As it turned out, there was only one button to press. After inserting the key, she stabbed the green button that simply read AP and held her breath as the doors slid smoothly shut.

  Her trepidation rose along with her meagre breakfast as she was whisked up at warp speed.

  She barely had time to swallow the sudden nausea that assailed her before the lift doors were sliding open again. She started to step out, then froze as ice washed over her.

  Arion Pantelides stood before her, tall, breathtaking, imposing...and as granite-faced as he’d been on the day she’d buried Morgan.

  Perla swallowed. And swallowed again before she could speak. ‘I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. I’m not here to see you. I came to see your brother, my late husband’s employer. Or, in his absence, I asked for the head of HR.’

  ‘Sakis isn’t here.’ He confirmed what she already knew. ‘He’s on an extended honeymoon.’ That voice, deep, husky, tinged with a haunting quality that she’d found intriguing since their first meeting, feathered along her nerves, sending her insides quaking with emotion so strong she wanted to take a step back from it.

  Perla bit her lip. ‘Yes, I know he got married last month but I didn’t know he was still away... I was hoping he was back...’ She drifted to a stop, her gaze trying desperately not to stray over his hauntingly beautiful face. A face that had featured in her dreams more times than she cared to acknowledge even to herself.

  ‘He would’ve got married sooner. He delayed it because your husband’s involvement in the Pantelides oil tanker crash was still under investigation. It would’ve been in bad taste to celebrate what is supposed to be the happiest day of any man’s life with events like that hanging over everyone’s head.’

  The veiled mockery in his tone made her hackles rise, but it was the memory of his blistering anger the last time they’d met that made her insides quake.

  She sucked in a deep breath. ‘I apologise for the inconvenience—’

  A slashing gesture with his hand stopped her words. ‘He’ll be back in two weeks. Feel free to come back then.’

  The lift doors started to shut. Galvanised into action, she threw out a hand to stop it just as he did the same. Warm fingers grazed hers, sending electricity zapping through her. Perla jumped back and felt her heart thunder as she caught the look he levelled at her.

  ‘I’m...I’m afraid this can’t wait. Just point me in the direction of HR and I’ll be out of your hair...’

  As if reminded of that part of her, he stepped back and his lazy gaze trailed upward to rest on the hair she’d pulled back into a tight bun. Once he’d looked his fill, those hazel eyes, whose mesmerising flecks she recalled so vividly, recaptured hers. ‘The whole HR team is on a day’s training in Paris.’

  Her stomach plummeted with despair. ‘You’re kidding, right? The whole team?’

  He raised a brow at her.

  ‘This really is an emergency. I came here specially. I need to talk to someone.’
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br />   Just like that, he shrugged, turned and walked away.

  With every fibre of her being she wanted to let the doors shut once more and be plunged back to the ground floor, back to safety. But too much depended on her trip here today. Much too much.

  So she took one step into Arion Pantelides’s vast, opulent domain.

  The architecture of the Pantelides Tower had looked formidable and stunning from the outside. Inside his office, the glass, chrome and steel structure blended with earthy tones made the place simply magnificent.

  A wide roll-top desk, obviously an expensive antique, took up one corner of the glass-walled room, offering a breathtaking view of the river and the iconic buildings across the water. Under her feet, a deep gold carpet muffled her tentative footsteps.

  She managed to take that all in in the handful of seconds before Arion folded his leanly muscled frame behind his desk.

  Fighting her rising irritation, she glanced back at him. ‘Did you hear what I said? I need to talk to someone. It’s important.’

  ‘By all means, if this can’t wait, tell me what the problem is and I’ll see if I can accommodate you.’

  He was toying with her, like a jungle animal toying with his prey. But she would not give him the satisfaction of thinking he could pounce and annihilate her again without consequences.

  Even though the need to turn tail and flee stalked through her, she held her ground. Because what other choice did she have? She couldn’t exactly flounce out of here. Her situation was too dire. They needed a solution now or Morgan’s parents would lose the house in which they’d brought up their son. After what they’d been through, Perla couldn’t stand by and do nothing whilst they suffered another blow in addition to the one they’d already been dealt by losing their only child.

  Pursing her lips, she reached into her bag and brought out the file she’d compiled. Stepping forward, she slapped it on the table in front of him.

  ‘According to these letters, neither Morgan’s parents nor I are entitled to his death-while-employed insurance pay out. That can’t be right. I know he signed on for that benefit.’

  Arion steepled his fingers and watched her dispassionately over them. ‘Ah, so you’re here to collect on your husband’s death.’

  She couldn’t stop herself from flinching at his tone. And he saw it because his eyes gleamed with something akin to satisfaction.

  She straightened her spine. ‘I’m only asking what is rightly due to me as the spouse of a man who died while employed by your brother’s company. I’ve read the small print. I know my rights, so I’d thank you not to make me sound like a vulture, Mr Pantelides.’ She kept her voice firm because she sensed that any weakness would be met with scalpel-sharp ruthlessness.

  Abruptly, he sat forward. Even across his desk, his imposing figure dominated, enclosing her in his powerful aura and making her pulse race.

  Steady breaths. Just breathe.

  ‘Trust me, glikia mou. No red-blooded man would look at you and liken you to a vulture. There are other, more exotic creatures perfectly apt to describe you.’

  Really? Perla nearly groaned in relief when she realised she hadn’t asked the question out loud.

  ‘I’d prefer not to be thought of in terms of creatures great or small. Are you able to help me with this or am I wasting my time here?’ she snapped.

  Arion shrugged and glanced at his watch. ‘Unfortunately, I have a lunch meeting in fifteen minutes.’ He reached across and grabbed the papers from the table. ‘Are you staying in town?’

  She frowned at the unexpected question. ‘No, I’m returning to Bath this evening.’

  ‘Then don’t let me stop you. Someone will be in touch soon.’

  Something in the way he said that made suspicion rise higher. ‘And just how soon is soon?’

  Another careless shrug. ‘I can get my brother to email his head of HR and get them to look into it but he’s somewhere in the South Pacific. In a state of wedded bliss, who knows how often he checks his emails.’ A shadow crossed his face, a tiny hint of what she’d glimpsed that night in the Macdonald Hall car park. Despite the need for self-preservation, her heart twisted.

  ‘Arion...’ He immediately stiffened and she bit her lip. Wrong move, Perla! Keep on point. ‘Mr Pantelides, I don’t have the sort of time you’re offering. Could you...would you be willing to look into this yourself for me? Please?’ she added when he remained frozen.

  His eyes hardened. ‘Is this where you trot out the for old time’s sake?’

  A heated flush crawled up her neck. ‘No, I wouldn’t be so crass as to refer to an occasion we’d both prefer to forget...but of course you won’t believe that about me so I don’t even know why I’m bothering. Look, I’m not sure whether you know about my circumstances, but Morgan and I lived with his parents after we got married. We were always going to move out and get a place of our own but that never happened. Two years ago, his mother was in a bad accident. Terry, Morgan’s father, had to give up his job to look after her. Times have been hard for them. Without Morgan’s insurance payment, they could lose their house. I know I’m nothing but a piece of trash in your eyes but they don’t deserve to lose their home so soon after losing their son.’

  She sucked in a breath and risked a glance at him. His expression remained stone-cold. For several minutes he didn’t speak. Then he reached into his desk and slid across a small black triangular piece of gleaming plastic.

  There were no markings on it. It could’ve been one of those if-you-had-to-apply-for-it-you-couldn’t-afford-it credit cards reserved for multi-billionaires she’d read about in a magazine once. Or it could’ve been a loyalty card for die-hard coffee addicts. Perla had no way of telling. She looked from the card to Arion’s face.

  ‘What’s that for?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘That card lets you into that lift.’ He nodded towards the small lift to one side of his office, across from the one she’d come up in. ‘The lift will take you straight to my penthouse. You’ll wait for me there—’

  ‘No way.’ Perla stopped what was coming before he could finish.

  His nostrils flared. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I won’t do...whatever it is you have in mind. I know you think I’m nothing but some common whore but you’re wrong. What happened between us that night wasn’t cheap and it wasn’t tawdry. Not for me at least. And I despise you for thinking I’d stoop that low to get you to help me—’

  ‘Shut the hell up for one second and listen.’ His rough command dried her words.

  Her fist clenched. ‘How dare you speak to me like—?’

  ‘You said you have nowhere to stay. I have a meeting in...exactly eight minutes which will last for five hours. Minimum. Unless you intend to wander the streets in the rain until I’m finished, my offer is the best you’re going to get.’

  Surprise stamped through her. ‘Oh, you mean you want me to go up and just...wait for you?’ she asked.

  ‘Why, Mrs Lowell, you sound disappointed.’

  Severely taken aback, it took her a minute to regroup. ‘I assure you, I’m not.’

  He held out the card. ‘Good.’

  With a hand she cursed for trembling, she took it and headed slowly for the lift, trepidation in her every step.

  ‘Oh, and Perla?’ he murmured mockingly.

  She stopped and turned back to him. ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t look so frightened. You’re not going up to a den of iniquity. There’s more to my apartment than a bed and a pole for you to perform on.’

  Her hand tightened on the card. ‘Wow, I’m shocked you even have those. The way you’ve been acting, I’d imagine a torture rack and thumb screws would be more accurate furnishings for the women you send up there.’

  His eyes darkened and the hand lying on the table clenched into a
fist. She’d scored a point in their battle of wills. Finally. But the victory felt hollow. With every word and every gesture, Arion tainted their one night together, letting bitterness fill the space where she’d known a few hours of joy. If only she could forget. But forgetting was impossible. Not when he sat there, so vital, so impossibly gorgeous.

  So infuriatingly captivating.

  ‘I’ve never invited a woman to my penthouse. Ever.’

  ‘Oh, then I’ll consider myself one lucky woman. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to skip with joy and ruin your priceless floors.’ She quickened her steps towards the lift, eager to be out of his sight and escape that merciless tongue. The plastic key slid soundlessly into the designated slot and the lift whispered open. She turned and faced the office, not in the least bit surprised to find Arion’s gaze fixed squarely on her.

  She wriggled her fingers in a careless wave. ‘See you in a few hours, charmer.’

  He didn’t take his eyes off her, nor did he respond to her mockery as the lift door shut. But the look in his eyes sent a shiver of unease through her.

  And with every hour that passed, despite having been whisked up into what felt like the lap of luxury—Ari’s personal chef had served her the most delicious three-course meal, after which she’d had a call from the concierge to find out whether she wanted a facial or pedicure while she waited—her tension escalated.

  So much so that when she heard the lift whisper open she stopped breathing. She jerked up from the suede sofa and her feet hit the floor with a thud. The magazine she’d been reading—one of many supplied by the concierge—spilled onto the floor. She bent to pick it up and straightened to find him a foot away, those piercing hazel eyes pinned on her.

  ‘You...uh, do you have news for me?’ she blurted, more to stem the overwhelming force of his presence than a need for immediate answers.

  But then she didn’t see the need for pleasantries. They weren’t friends. Hell, they weren’t even lovers. They were two strangers who’d given in to a mad moment that had returned to haunt them with merciless cruelty.