‘It’s hard to miss that you watch what you eat with almost military precision. If it wasn’t absurd, I’d think you were rationing yourself.’ His eyes were narrowed in that unnervingly probing way.
Her pulse skittered in alarm at the observation. ‘Maybe I am.’
His lips tightened. ‘Well, going without food for the sake of vanity is dangerous. You’re risking your health, and thereby your ability to function properly. It’s your duty to ensure you’re in the right shape so you can fulfil your duties.’
The vehemence in his tone made her alarm escalate. ‘Why do I get the feeling we’re talking about more than my abandoned salad?’
He didn’t answer immediately. His lowered lids and closed expression told her the memory wasn’t a pleasant one.
He settled back in his seat, outwardly calm. But Brianna saw the hand still wrapped around his water glass wasn’t quite so steady. ‘Watching someone wilfully waste away despite being surrounded by abundance isn’t exactly a forgettable experience.’
Her grip went slack. ‘I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories for you. Who do you...?’
He shook his head once and indicated her plate. ‘It doesn’t matter. Don’t let your food go to waste, Moneypenny.’
Brianna glanced down at the remnants of her meal, trying to reconcile the outwardly confident man sitting across from her with the man whose hands trembled at a deeply disturbing memory. Not that she’d even been foolish enough to think Sakis Pantelides was one-faceted.
She recalled that one moment during her interview when he’d looked up from her file, his green eyes granite-hard and merciless.
‘If you are to survive this job, I’d strongly urge you to take one piece of advice, Miss Moneypenny. Don’t fall in love with me.’
Her response had been quick, painful memory making her tongue acid-sharp. ‘With respect, Mr Pantelides, I’m here for the salary. The benefits package isn’t too bad either, but most of all I’m here for the top-notch experience. To my knowledge, love never has and never will pay the bills.’
What she’d wanted to add then was that she’d been there, done her time and had the tattoo to prove it.
What she wanted tell him now was that she’d endured far, far worse than a hungry stomach. That she’d known the complete desolation of coming a poor second to her mother’s love for drugs. She’d slept rougher than any child deserved to and had fought every day to survive in a concrete jungle, surrounded by the drug-addled bullies with vicious fists.
She held her tongue because to speak would be to reveal far more than she could ever afford to reveal.
Curiosity gnawed at her but she refused to probe further. Probing would invite reciprocity. Her past was under lock and key, tucked behind a titanium vault and sealed in concrete. And that was exactly where she intended to keep it.
In silence, she finished her meal and looked up with relief as the attendant arrived to clear away their plates.
When the phone rang, she pounced on it, grabbing the familiarity that came with work in an effort to banish the brief moments of unguarded intimacy.
‘The captain of the coast guard is on the line for you.’
Sakis’s gaze swept over her face, a speculative gleam in his eyes that slowly disappeared as he took the phone.