What the Greek's Money Can't Buy(24)

                ‘Relax, it’s only our bags,’ he reassured her with a frown.

                ‘Oh, yes, of course.’

                The porters entered and Sakis made sure they left just as quickly.

                Silence reigned, thick and heavy, permeating the air with a sexual atmosphere he recognised but was determined to ignore. It had no business here.

                And yet, it refused to be stemmed.

                He watched as she came towards him and reached for the bag the porter had left beside him.

                ‘You take the shower first,’ he said. The image that slammed into his mind sent a dark tremor through him but he forced himself to breathe through it.

                She straightened and her gaze darted to the bathroom door in the so-called suite. ‘If you’re sure.’

                ‘Yes, I’m sure.’ Then, unable to stop himself, even while every sense screamed at him to step away, he reached out and rubbed the smudge on her cheek.

                Her breath caught on a strangled gasp, sending another punch of heat through him. His senses screamed harder, but his fingers stayed put, stroking her soft, warm skin.

                ‘You have an oil streak right there.’ He rubbed again.

                With a sharply drawn breath, she moved away, but her eyes stayed on him, and in their depths Sakis saw the clear evidence of lust...and another emotion he’d never seen in a woman’s eyes when it came to him: fear.

                What the hell?

                Before he could question her, she swung away. ‘I...I’ll try not to take too long.’

                With quick strides, she disappeared into the bathroom and slammed the door, leaving him standing there staring at the door with a growing erection and an ever-rising pulse rate that made him certain he risked serious health problems if he didn’t get it under control.

                Thee mou... Of all the times and places—and sheer idiocy, bearing in mind the recipient—it seemed his libido had taken this moment to run rampant and to focus its attention on the one person he should absolutely not focus on.

                Crisis heightened the senses and made men and women succumb to inappropriate urges, leading to serious errors of judgment that later came back to bite them in the ass.

                Whatever was happening here, he needed to kill it with a swift, merciless death. And he certainly needed not to think of Moneypenny behind that door, removing her clothes, stepping naked, beneath the warm shower...

                Moving the drinks cabinet, he poured himself a shot of whiskey. As he downed it, his gaze strayed to the bathroom door.

                Nothing was going to happen. He refused to let it.

                As if hammering home the point, he heard the distinct sound of the lock sliding home.

                And poured himself another drink.

                * * *

                Brianna sagged against the door, unable to catch her breath. The bag slid uselessly from her fingers and she didn’t need to look down to see evidence of her body’s reaction to Sakis Pantelides. She could feel every inch of her skin tightening, burning, reacting to his touch as if he was still rubbing her cheek.

                No. No. No!

                Anger lent her strength, enough to tug her boots off and fling them away with distressed disgust. Her oil-smudged cargo pants went the same way, followed by her once white T-shirt. About to reach for the bra clasp, she glanced up and caught the reflection of her tattoo in the wide bathroom mirror.