Doukakis's Apprentice. Sarah Morgan
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You can’t make them redundant. It would be wrong.’
‘Business tip number one,’ Damon said softly. ‘Never let your opponent know what you’re thinking. It gives them an advantage.’
Those narrow shoulders straightened. ‘You already have the advantage, Mr Doukakis. You’ve bought my father’s company. And I’m not afraid to tell you what I’m thinking. I’m thinking that you’re as ruthless and cold as they say you are.’ Her eyes shone and he wondered if he should warn her that it was dangerous to wear her emotions so close to the surface. And then he realised how hypocritical that would be because, for once, his own were similarly exposed.
Acting on an impulse he didn’t want to examine too closely, Damon reached out and caught her chin in his hand, feeling the softness of her skin under the hard pads of his fingers as he forced her to look at him. ‘You’re right. I am as ruthless as they say I am. You might want to remember that. And tears just irritate me, Miss Prince.’
‘I’m not crying.’
But she was close to crying. He recognised the signs and he could feel the betraying tremble of her jaw. She was the same age as Arianna and yet that was where the similarity ended. For a fleeting moment he wondered what her life must have been like—an only child brought up by her father, a notorious playboy.
‘I took nothing your board of directors did not readily give.’
‘You made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.’ Her emotional accusation almost made him smile.
‘I’m Greek, not Sicilian. And the people working for me would never sell me out, no matter how good the offer.’
He saw something flicker in her eyes and then she jerked her chin away from his grasp. ‘Everyone has their price, Mr Doukakis.’
And she should know, Damon thought grimly, remembering the reason she’d been excluded from school. Definitely nothing like his sister. ‘I’m afraid I have to politely decline your offer. When it comes to my bed partners I’m extremely discerning.’
For a moment she stared at him blankly and then her mouth dropped. ‘I was talking about business.’
Damon found himself looking at those lips. ‘Of course you were.’
‘You are so offensive. Have you finished?’
‘Finished? I haven’t even started.’ Damon slowly lifted his gaze and stared into her eyes. The chemistry was unmistakable but it didn’t worry him in the slightest. When it came to women he made his decisions based on logic, not libido. He had no time for people who were unable to exercise control over their impulses when the need arose. ‘At the moment the staff have their jobs. Whether or not they keep them is up to you and your father. I’ll expect you in my offices at two o’clock this afternoon. You’re going to start doing some work. And don’t waste time appealing to my emotions, Miss Prince. I never let emotions cloud my decision-making.’
‘Really?’ Those blue eyes locked on his and he saw the same fire and determination in her he’d seen that day in the school. ‘That’s interesting, because I’d say that your decision-making in this instance has been entirely driven by emotion. You’re using this takeover as leverage against my father. If that isn’t an emotional decision, I don’t know what is. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to organise the staff for the office move. If you really want all this “dead wood” transferred to your offices by this afternoon then I’d better get my useless, lazy self moving.’ She stalked towards the door, all long legs and youthful attitude as her dress swung tantalisingly round the tops of her thighs and the spiked heel of her boots tapped the floor.
Hauling his gaze away from the seductive curve of her bottom, Damon slammed the lid on that part of him that wanted to flatten her to the boardroom table and indulge in raw, mindless sex. ‘And do something about the way you dress. Theé mou, you look like a flamingo in your hot pink tights. I expect the people working for me to look professional.’
‘So you don’t like what I do and you don’t like the way I look.’ Her back to him, she stood frozen to the spot. ‘Anything else?’
He wondered if she kept her back to him as a gesture of defiance or because she was close to tears.
There was something disturbing about the fragile set of her narrow shoulders, but Damon was out of sympathy. If she really cared about the staff, the business wouldn’t be in the state it was in. Because of this woman and her father Prince Advertising was in a pitiful state and a hundred people now risked losing their jobs. A hundred families risked having their lives shattered. A chill spread down his spine as he contemplated the possible fall-out from that scenario. ‘I want all the system passwords handed over to my team so that we can access everything. If I’m going to unravel the mess you’ve created here I need to know what I’m dealing with. That’s it. You can go.’
He could have told her that he considered redundancies a sign of failure. He could have told her that he understood his responsibilities as an employer better than anyone and that he ran his business according to his own rigid principles.
He could have told her all of that, but he didn’t.
She’d contributed to this shameful mess.
Let her suffer.
‘I’m going to kill him. I’m going to put my hands round that bronzed throat and squeeze until he can’t utter another sarcastic word and then I’m going to cut holes in his perfect suit and squirt ketchup on his white shirt …’ Feeling powerless, Polly lowered her head onto her hands and thumped her fist on the desk. ‘What do women see in him? I cannot imagine voluntarily spending a single minute in his company. He’s a heartless, sexist monster.’ But that hadn’t stopped her being hyper-aware of him all the way through their confrontation. There was a sexual energy between them that seriously unsettled her. How could she find him attractive?
‘I don’t know about him being a monster. The man is smoking hot.’ Debbie put a stack of empty boxes onto the floor and started clearing the office. ‘At least we still have our jobs. Let’s face it, the figures are so bad he could have dumped us all and no one could really have blamed him.’
Knowing that it was true, Polly lifted her head and stared at her friend in despair. ‘Trust me, that might have been the better option.’
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I don’t know what I mean, but I know I can’t work for that man.’ Exhausted and stressed, she tried to blot out images of his cold, handsome face. Cold, she reminded herself. Cold, with no sense of humour. ‘I’m not going to last a week. The only thing in doubt is whether I kill him before he kills me.’
‘You can’t walk out! The future of the staff depends on you staying!’
‘How do you know that?’
‘We were listening at the door.’
Polly sank down in her chair. ‘Have you no shame?’
‘This was a crisis. We needed to know whether to ring the job centre or not.’
‘Ring them anyway. You won’t want to work for him for long.’ Trying to galvanise herself into action, Polly tugged open the drawer in her desk and stared down at the jumble of belongings. ‘I need a different pair of tights. Hot pink clearly isn’t his favourite colour. I cannot believe I’m about to change my clothes because a man asked me to. How low can a girl go? I should have told him where to stuff his dress code but I’d already antagonised him more than I should have done.’
‘He didn’t like the tights?’ Debbie raised her eyebrows. ‘Did you tell him you’re wearing them because—?’
‘Tell him?’ Polly rummaged through the drawer. ‘No one tells Damon Doukakis anything. They just listen while he commands. This is a dictatorship, not a democracy. How the hell does the man keep his staff?’
‘He