What the Greek's Money Can't Buy(21)

                Her outrage made her breathing erratic. ‘I don’t think that’s a fair observation, sir. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, and I’m more than capable of handling whatever comes. Just because I disagree with you on one small issue doesn’t make me mutinous. I’m thinking about you.’

                ‘Then prove it. Stop arguing with me and get in the jeep.’

                She opened her mouth; closed it again. When she looked at him, her eyes held a hint of fire he’d seen more than once today. The fire he’d tried—and failed—to bank fired up deep in his groin.

                ‘I’ll go and get my things,’ she said.

                ‘No need.’ He exchanged glances with the driver and the young man headed towards the row of tents. Sakis leaned against the jeep’s hood. ‘You can fill me in on the results of your social media campaign while we wait.’

                He saw how eagerly she snatched at her tablet and suppressed another bout of irritation. Whatever was causing this abnormal behaviour, he needed to nip it in the bud pretty darned quick. The crisis on his hands needed all his attention.

                ‘I’ve found six individuals who I think will be useful to us. One’s a professor of marine biology based in Guinea Bissau. Another, a husband and wife team who are experts in wildlife rescue. They specialise in disaster rescue such as this. The other three have no specialities but they have a huge social media following and are known for volunteering on humanitarian missions. I’m having all six vetted by our security team. If they pass the security test, I’ll arrange for them to be flown over tomorrow.’

                ‘I’m still not convinced bringing even more focus on this crisis is the best way to go, Moneypenny.’ His insides tightened as he thought of his mother. ‘Sometimes you don’t see the harm until it’s too late.’ He thought of her devastation and misery, the incessant sobbing, and finally the substitution of food with alcohol when it’d hit home that the husband she’d thought was a god amongst men, the man she’d thought was true to her and only her, had had a string of affairs with mistresses around the globe, some of whom had dated back to before he’d put his wedding ring on her finger.

                The year he’d turned fifteen had been the bleakest year of his life. It was the year he’d had every child’s basest fear confirmed—that his father did not love him, did not love anyone or anything but himself. It was also the start of Sakis’s hatred of the media, who’d not only exposed his worst fears but trumpeted it to the world.

                Ari had withstood the invasion of their lives with his usual unflappable demeanour, although Sakis had a feeling his brother had been just as devastated, if not more so, than he had been. Theo, thirteen at that time, with fresh teenage hormones battering him, had gone off the rails. To this day, their mother had never found out how many times Theo had run away from home because Ari, seventeen going on seventy, had found him every single time and brought him back.

                In all that chaos, Sakis had watched his mother deteriorate before his eyes, culminating in her seeking a solution so horrific, he still shuddered at the memory.

                He pushed the events of decades past out of his mind and focused on the woman in front of him, who watched him with barely veiled curiosity.

                Silently, he held her gaze until hers fell away. That he immediately wished it back made him suppress a frustrated growl.

                ‘The journalists we hand-picked know this could be the opportunity of a lifetime for them as long as they play ball. I’ll make sure they portray an open and honest account of what we’re doing to remedy the situation, while infusing the appropriate rhetoric to protect the company’s reputation.’