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‘Mr Pantelides, we have a situation.’
His jaw tightened. ‘What situation?’
‘One of your tankers, the Pantelides Six, has run aground off Point Noire.’
Ice cascaded down his back despite the midsummer sun blazing down on him. Sakis forced a swallow. ‘When did this happen?’
‘I got a call via the head office from a crew member five minutes ago.’
She licked her lips and his apprehension grew.
‘There’s something else?’
‘Yes. The captain and two crew members are missing and...’
‘And what?’
Her pinched look intensified. ‘The tanker hit an outcropping of rocks. Crude oil is spilling into the South Atlantic at an estimated rate of sixty barrels per minute.’
* * *
Brianna would never forget what happened next after her announcement. Outwardly, Sakis Pantelides remained the calm, ruthlessly controlled oil tycoon she’d worked alongside for the past eighteen months. But she would’ve failed in her task to make herself indispensable to him if she hadn’t learned to read between the lines of the enigma that was Sakis Pantelides. The set of his strong jaw and the way his hands tightened around the snow-white towel told her how badly the news had affected him.
Over his shoulder, Brianna saw Arion Pantelides pause in his task. Her eyes connected with his. Something in her face must have given her away because before she’d taken another breath the oldest Pantelides brother was striding towards them. He was just as imposing as his younger brother, just as formidable. But, where Sakis’s gaze was sharp with laser-like focus and almost lethal intelligence, Arion’s held a wealth of dark torment and soul-deep weariness.
Brianna’s gaze swung back to her boss, and she wasn’t even slightly surprised to see the solid mask of power and ruthless efficiency back in place.
‘Do we know what caused the accident?’ he fired out.
She shook her head. ‘The captain isn’t responding to his mobile phone. We haven’t been able to establish contact with vessel since the initial call. The Congolese coast guard are on their way. I’ve asked them to contact me as soon as they’re on site.’ She fell into step beside him as his long strides headed for the car. ‘I’ve got our emergency crew on standby. They’re ready to fly out once you give the word.’
Arion Pantelides caught up with them as they neared the limousine.
He put a halting hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘Talk to me, Sakis.’
In clipped tones, Sakis filled him in on what had happened. Arion’s gaze swung to her. ‘Do we have the names of the missing crew members?’
‘I’ve emailed the complete crew manifest to both your phones and Theo’s. I’ve also attached a list of the relevant ministers we need to deal with in the government to ensure we don’t ruffle any feathers, and I’ve scheduled calls with all of them.’
A look flickered in his eyes before his gaze connected with his brother’s. When Sakis’s brow rose a fraction, Arion gave a small smile.
‘Go. I’ll deal with as much as I can from here. We’ll talk in one hour.’ Arion clasped his brother’s shoulder in reassurance before he strode off.
Sakis turned to her. ‘I’ll need to speak to the President.’
Brianna nodded. ‘I’ve got his chief of staff on hold. He’ll put you through when you’re ready.’
Her gaze dropped to his chest and immediately shifted away. She stepped back to move away from the potent scent of sweat and man that radiated off his deep olive skin. ‘You need to change. I’ll get you some fresh clothes.’
As she headed towards the boot of the car, she heard the slide of his rowing suit zip. She didn’t turn because she’d seen it all before. At least that was what she told herself. She hadn’t seen Sakis Pantelides totally naked, of course. But hers was a twenty-four-seven job. And, when you worked as close as she did with a suave, self-assured, powerful tycoon who saw you as nothing but a super-efficient, sexless automaton, you were bound to be exposed to all aspects of his nature. And his various states of undress.
The first time Sakis Pantelides had undressed in front of her, Brianna had taken it in her stride, just as she’d brutally trained herself to take most things in her stride.
To feel, to trust, to give emotion an inch, was to invite disaster.
So she’d learned to harden her heart. It had been that...or sink beneath the weight of crushing despair.
And she refused to sink...
