A Diamond Deal With The Greek. Maya Blake

short years later. Or that the decimating of her family would be her fault.

      She’d had no cares in the world, secure in the love from a father who’d adored his wife and daughter, and a mother who had encouraged Rebel to pursue her dreams, regardless of any obstacles that stood in her way.

      It was that relentless pursuit of her dream that had shattered her family. She knew that. And yet, she’d never been able to walk away from her dreams of pursuing a ski-jump championship. Deep in her heart, Rebel knew walking away would be betraying her vivacious and hugely talented mother, who’d never been quite able to achieve a championship win of her own.

      Her heart ached as she passed her hand over the picture. Her father had never understood her need to keep chasing her dream. He’d been harsh and critical to the point where they hadn’t been able to stay under the same roof without endless vicious rows. But even then, Rebel had never imagined walking away would mean losing her father for this long. She’d never thought his condemnation and lack of forgiveness would be set in stone.

      She dropped her hand. She was here now. She was about to undertake the most important challenge of her career. Before that happened, she needed to know whether there was a way to reconcile with her father.

      Forcing the nerves down, she looked around, seeking clues as to his whereabouts. His computer was turned off, but his desk calendar was still set at a date two weeks ago. Unease spiked as she recalled Stan’s words. Deciding not to read too much into it, she walked to the far side of the vast office, and set her yoga mat and gym bag down. Another half an hour of pacing, and her nerves were screaming that something wasn’t quite right. After leaving yet another message on her father’s voicemail stating that she wasn’t leaving his office until he called her back, she put her phone on the coffee table along with her sweater, and rolled out the yoga mat.

      The situation with her father, a bandaged but far from healed wound, had been ripped open by his letter, bringing fresh anguish. That anguish was affecting her concentration, something she could ill afford. Greg, her trainer, had commented on the fact today, hence the addition of yoga to her exercise regime.

      She’d made it through the trials to secure herself a position on the championship-seeking team. She couldn’t afford to take her eye off the ball now, no matter how unresolved her issues were with her father.

      Dropping onto the mat, she plugged her earphones back in, stretched and closed her eyes. Legs crossed in front of her, she took several breaths to centre herself, then began to move through her positions.

      The first few tingles she attributed to her body dropping into a state of relaxation. One she welcomed after the turmoil of the past few weeks. But when they persisted, growing with each breath, Rebel rolled her shoulders, mildly irritated and more than a little anxious that she would truly find no avenue of relief until she spoke to her father.

      Then the scent hit her nostrils: dark, hypnotic, with traces of citrus and more than a hint of savagery. At first she believed she was dreaming its complexity. But with each breath, the scent wrapped tighter around her senses, pulling her into a vortex of sensation that increased the tingling along her spine.

      Slowly lowering herself from downward dog, she lay flat on her stomach and extended her left leg behind her, hoping the taut muscle stretch would dissipate the strange feeling zinging through her body. She repeated the exercise with her right leg, welcoming the burn.

      But the distraction wasn’t sufficient. Her concentration slipped further.

      Gritting her teeth, she sat up and stretched her legs wide, perpendicular to her body. She aligned her torso to one leg, then the other, then leaned forward on her elbows and slowly raised her pelvis off the floor.

      The curse was thick and sharp enough to pierce the cocoon of her music.

      Rebel’s eyes flew open.

      Sensation hit her like a charging bull. The air knocked clean from her lungs, Rebel gaped at the imposing man who sat with one leg hitched over the other and his arms crossed over a wide, firm chest.

      Steely grey eyes pinned her in position. Not that she would’ve been able to move had her life depended on it. Frozen on the floor, she could only stare as the most arresting man she’d ever seen uncoiled himself from his sitting position and stood to a towering, dominating height. His navy three-piece suit was sharp and stylish, and drew attention to broad shoulders, a trim waist and strong thighs, but even without those visual aids, his sheer beauty was potent enough to command her attention.

      Her muscles strained, lactic acid building in a body that screamed for relief, but Rebel couldn’t heed it.

      The man advanced, bringing the scent that had so thoroughly shattered her concentration even closer until it fully encompassed her. There was a vague familiarity about him, like a stranger she’d caught a glimpse of a lifetime ago. But the sensation passed as he drew closer.

      Her chest tightened, her lungs struggling to work as he crouched down in front of her and jerked the earbuds from her ears. Flinging the wires to the floor, he leaned forward until every inch of her vision was crowded with him.

      ‘You have exactly three seconds to tell me who the hell you are, and why I shouldn’t call Security and have you thrown in jail for lewd conduct and trespassing.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      DRACO ANGELIS WASN’T a man overly prone to emotion or volatile impulses. And yet as he stared at the woman before him he wanted to curse again. Loudly and far more filthily than he had in a long time.

      He told himself it was because the floor show she’d been giving his male employees for the last fifteen minutes was losing him money with each second her sinuous body undulated. More than that, she was drawing attention to a matter he wanted to keep under wraps by performing said floor show in Nathan Daniels’ office. In a business often accused of being shady and underhanded, Draco had striven to keep Angel International above reproach. He’d succeeded beyond his wildest dreams by keeping all his dealings professional, above board and strictly private. None of his clients were permitted to publicise details of their relationship with his company save for a carefully prepared press release at the time of signing.

      Draco kept that same stranglehold on his personal life.

      But with the sudden disappearance of Nathan Daniels and the suspected reason behind it, Draco knew it was only a matter of time before the whispers grew to wild speculation and brought unwanted attention to both facets of his life.

      And this...siren performing moves fit for a certain type of gentlemen’s club right here on his CFO’s office floor was the last thing he needed.

      As to the pull he’d experienced in his body and especially in his groin as he’d watched her... Well, he could deal with the reminder that he was a full-blooded male.

      What he wasn’t prepared to deal with was her interrupting his—

      ‘Lewd conduct?’ A sultry laugh detonated his thoughts, slamming him back to the room and the sensual vision still frozen in position before him. ‘I think that’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you?’

      A thick bead of sweat trickled down her earlobe and over her jaw. He tracked it, unable to drag his gaze away as it rolled over her heated skin to disappear between small but lush breasts. He ruthlessly suppressed the growl that rose in his chest and clenched his jaw.

      ‘You think it’s a stretch to perform lasciviously in front of a window to the clear view of everyone in my company?’

      Her back bowed as she flexed her hips, a smile curving her full lips. ‘I wasn’t aware what I was doing was so distracting. Do you mind stepping back?’

      ‘Excuse me?’ Irritated surprise held him rigid.

      ‘I’m almost done. If I stop now, I’ll have to start all over again. Sorry, I’m a little OCD like that. I need room for the last two positions, so if you don’t mind...?’