One Night with a Gorgeous Greek. Sarah Morgan
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Explain how the company is run.’
‘It took me less than five minutes with your balance sheet to assess how the company is run. The word is badly. And I’ve already decided to keep someone on who has inside knowledge.’
Michael sagged and his smile was slack and desperate. ‘That’s a relief. For a moment there I thought—’
‘Which is why Miss Prince will come and work alongside me for the next three months.’
Work alongside him? Oh, no, not that. ‘I’m ready to step down, Mr Doukakis.’
‘You’re not stepping anywhere, Miss Prince. You and your laptop are going to be right by my side as we sort out this mess together.’ His words were deliberately ambiguous and Polly wondered which mess he was referring to—the company, or her father’s relationship with his sister.
‘But—’
‘My people will be here within the hour to organise the move into my offices. Anyone who would rather not move is, of course, free to leave.’
‘Wait a minute—’ Polly felt as if she’d been flattened under a heavy object. She’d assumed she’d be the first out of the door. She was ready and willing to make that sacrifice. In fact she was desperate to put as much distance as possible between her and Damon Doukakis. ‘I resign.’
His eyes locked on hers. ‘Resign and I’ll make the entire workforce redundant this afternoon.’ The suppressed anger in him licked through the room, sizzling everyone around the table to a crisp.
‘No!’ Polly felt dizzy with horror. ‘They haven’t done anything.’
‘Having glanced at your balance sheet, I find it all too easy to believe you. I’m asking myself what anyone in this company has done over the past year. It’s only fair to warn you that I don’t hold out much hope that these people will still be working for me in three months. I’ve seen more activity in a graveyard.’
Polly’s limbs weakened. She thought about Doris Cooper, who had worked for her father in the post room for forty years. Recently widowed, the woman made a habit of giving the wrong post to the wrong people, but no one wanted to upset her so they quietly reorganised everything when she wasn’t looking. Then there was Derek Wills who couldn’t spell his name but made lovely cups of tea to keep everyone going. If she walked out they wouldn’t even make three weeks, let alone three months. ‘Fine,’ she croaked. ‘I’ll work for you. But I think your behaviour is appalling.’
‘Your opinion of me is unlikely to be lower than mine of you.’ He came right back at her, the full power of his anger slamming into her shaking frame with the force of a hurricane.
Polly stood rigid, impossibly intimidated despite her attempts not to be. There was something terrifying about that splintering dark gaze and the raw power of the man in front of her. She didn’t need to see the contempt in his eyes to know he had a low opinion of her and even the heels on her boots didn’t help. He still made her feel small in every way possible. But none of that was as scary as the other feelings she was trying so desperately to ignore. The quickening of her pulse and the strange melting sensation inside her tummy. ‘You’re not being fair.’
‘Life isn’t fair.’ His tone was hard and uncompromising. ‘Like it or not, you’re all now part of my company. Welcome to my world, Miss Prince.’
HE’D never encountered such a shambolic operation in his life.
Infuriated at having landed himself with a company that offered him no benefit whatsoever, and angrier still at the wanton carelessness the Prince board had demonstrated towards people’s job security, Damon cleared the room with a single movement of his hand.
It frustrated him to have to deal with this situation when all he really wanted to do was track down his sister and protect her from the fallout of her own mistakes. Even after an intense week of reflection, he was no closer to understanding what had driven her to make such an appalling decision. Was her choice of Peter Prince just another ploy to prove her independence? Challenge him? He stood for a moment, bracing himself against the crushing weight of responsibility that had been his closest companion since he’d been forced to take charge of his sister’s welfare in his teens.
As Polly Prince stalked towards the door with the board members, he intercepted her. Slamming the door shut behind the last suited man, he turned on the woman he hadn’t laid eyes on for a decade.
‘Wherever you are, trouble is always close behind.’
She was taller than he remembered. Other than that, she didn’t seem to have changed much from the rebellious teenager who had stood sullen and defiant in the school office hearing her fate.
Damon scanned her from head to foot in a single sweeping glance, taking her choice of dress to be just another example of her careless, irresponsible attitude to life.
Everyone else had chosen to wear a dark suit to the meeting. It was typical that Polly Prince had favoured fashionable over formal, her short dress revealing incredibly long legs showcased in hot pink tights and black ankle boots. She looked fresh, young and—sexy.
The sudden explosion of primal lust was as unexpected as it was unwelcome and Damon dragged his gaze up from the heels of her cheeky black boots to focus on her face.
Accustomed to mixing with women who dressed with understated elegance, he was exasperated that the self-discipline he exerted over his own responses appeared to have deserted him. Even as he was telling himself that he had more sophistication than to feel sexual attraction for a girl with great legs, he was wrestling with a powerful urge to shrug off his jacket and cover those slender curves.
To kill those unwanted feelings stone-dead, he focused on the issue of his sister and her father. ‘Where the hell is he?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then tell me what you do know.’
Her delicate features were set and determined as she stared directly at him. ‘I know you’ve taken over my father’s company. Clearly you’re a megalomaniac.’ Her cool remark threw petrol onto the fire that raged inside him.
‘Don’t take me on, Miss Prince. I’m a tough boss but I’m a tougher enemy. Remember that.’ He delivered the warning and had the satisfaction of seeing her face lose colour. ‘I don’t want to hear anything from that smart mouth of yours except answers to my questions. Where is your father?’
‘I have no idea.’
That unmistakably honest admission was a solid blow to his gut. He’d been relying on her to reveal her father’s whereabouts. ‘You must be able to make contact. How do you get hold of him in an emergency?’
‘I don’t.’ She sounded genuinely surprised by the question. ‘My father taught me to be self-sufficient. If there’s an emergency, I handle it.’
‘I’ve taken over your father’s company, Miss Prince. This is definitely an emergency and I don’t see you handling anything. I can’t believe that the CEO of a company can so readily abandon his responsibilities.’ It was a lie, of course. He’d seen it before, hadn’t he? Tasted first-hand the bitter after-effects of another man’s careless disregard for obligation. The memory of it had never left him. Even now, when success was his many times over, it was always there beneath the surface. It drove him forward from one deal to the next. It was the reason he had never relied on another man for employment.
In the midst of discovering that the past still had the power to destabilise him, Damon found his attention snagged by the wisp of pale blonde hair that had floated down from the haphazard, kooky hairstyle she wore. It seemed that even her hair was rebellious.
This girl, he mused, knew nothing about obligation