What the Greek's Money Can't Buy(41)
‘I’m going to hit the gym first, Tom. Then I’ll forage for myself, thanks.’
He nodded and left.
Picking up her phone and tablet, she quickly made her way via the turbo lift to the sixtieth floor, where Sakis’s private multi-roomed penthouse suites were located. There were six suites in total, four separate and two inter-connected. Sakis used the largest suite which was linked by a set of double doors to her own suite when she stayed here. From this high, the view across London’s night sky was stunning. The Opera House gleamed beneath the iconic London Eye, with the Oxo Tower’s famous lights glittering over the South Bank.
She took the shortcut through Sakis’s living room, her feet slowing as they usually did when confronted with the visually stunning architectural design of the penthouse.
One side was taken up by a rough sandstone wall dominated by a huge fireplace regulated by a computerised temperature monitor. Directly in front of the fireplace, large slate-coloured, square-shaped sofas were grouped around an enormous stark white rug, which was the only covering on the highly polished marble floors.
Beyond the seating area, on carefully selected pedestals and on the walls were displayed works of art ranging from an exquisite pair of katanas, said to have belonged to a notorious Samurai, to a post-impressionist painting by Rousseau that galleries around the world vied for the opportunity to exhibit.
Moving towards her own suite, her gaze was drawn outside to the gleaming infinity pool that stretched out beyond the gleaming windows. The first time she’d seen it, she’d gasped with awe and thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t suffer from vertigo when Sakis had shown her around the large deck where the only protection from the elements was a steel and glass railing.
From this high up, the Thames was a dark ribbon interspersed by centuries-old bridges, and from where she stood she could almost make out the Tube station where she caught the train to her flat.
Her flat. Her sanctuary. The place she hadn’t been for days. The place she could lose if Sakis ever found out who she really was.
Her spine straightened as she approached the large wooden swivel door that led to her suite.
As long as she had breath in her body she would fight for what she’d salvaged from the embers of her previous life. Greg wouldn’t be allowed to win a second time.
Entering the bedroom where Sakis had insisted she kept a fully furnished wardrobe in case he needed to travel with her at short notice, she changed into her pair of three-quarter-length Lycra training shorts and a cropped T-shirt.
She pounded the treadmill for half an hour, until endorphins pumped through her system and sweat poured off her skin. Next she tackled the elliptical trainer.
She was in the middle of stretching before hitting the weights when Sakis walked in.
He stopped at the sight of her. His hair was severely ruffled, the result of running his hands through the short strands several times, and he’d loosened his tie, along with a few buttons. Between the gaping cotton, she saw silky hairs that bisected his deep, chiselled chest.
Their eyes clashed through the mirrors lining two sides of the room, before his gaze left her to slowly traverse over her body.
Brianna froze, very much aware her breath was caught somewhere in her solar plexus. And that her leg was caught behind her, mid-stretch. The hand braced against the mirror trembled as his gaze visibly darkened with a hunger that echoed the sensation spiking up through her pelvis.
‘Don’t let me interrupt you,’ he drawled as he went to the cooler and plucked a bottle of water off the shelf. Leaning against the rung of bars holding the weights, he stared at her as he drank deeply straight from the bottle.