Acquired By Her Greek Boss. Chantelle Shaw

that she was good at her job, but the first time she had disagreed with Alekos over a work issue he’d clearly been astounded to discover that his mousy assistant had a backbone. After a tense stand-off, when Sara had refused to back down, he had narrowed his gaze on her determined expression and something like admiration had flickered in his dark eyes.

      She valued his respect more than anything because she loved her job. Working for Alekos was like riding a roller coaster at a theme park: exciting, intense and fast-paced, and it was the knowledge that she would never find a job as rewarding as her current one that made Sara take a steadying breath. She could not deny it was flattering that Alekos had finally noticed her, but if she wanted to continue in her role as his PA she must ignore the predatory glint in his eyes.

      She held her pencil poised over her notepad and gave him a cool smile. ‘I’m ready to start when you are.’

      Her breezy tone seemed to irritate him. ‘I doubt you’ll be so cheerful by the time we’ve finished today. I’ll need you to work late this evening.’

      ‘Sorry, but I can’t stay late tonight. I’ve made other plans.’

      He frowned. ‘Well, change them. Do I need to remind you that a requirement of your job is for you to work whatever hours I dictate, within reason?’

      ‘I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that I have always worked extra when you’ve asked me to,’ Sara said calmly. ‘And I’ve worked unreasonable hours, such as when we stayed up until one a.m. to put together a sales pitch for a sheikh before he flew back to Dubai. It paid off too, because Sheikh Al Mansoor placed an order for a one-hundred-million-pound yacht from GE.’

      Alekos’s scowl did not make him any less gorgeous; in fact it gave him a dangerous, brooding look that turned Sara’s bones to liquid.

      ‘I can stay late every other night this week if you need me to,’ she went on in an effort to appease him. Alekos’s bad mood threatened to spoil her excitement about meeting her father after work. Lionel Kingsley’s high profile as an MP meant that he did not want to risk being seen in public with Sara. As they couldn’t go to a restaurant, she had invited him to her home and was planning to cook dinner for him before he attended an evening engagement.

      ‘Oh, I can’t stay late on Friday either,’ she said. ‘And actually I’d like to leave an hour early because I’m going away for the weekend.’ She remembered the plans she’d made to visit her father at his house in Berkshire. ‘I’ll work through my lunch hour to make up the time.’

      ‘Well, well.’ Alekos’s sardonic drawl put Sara on her guard. ‘You go away for a month and return sporting a new haircut, a new—and much improved, I have to say—wardrobe, and now suddenly you have a busy social life. It makes me wonder if a man is the reason for the new-look Sara Lovejoy.’

      ‘My personal life is none of your business,’ she said composedly. Technically, she supposed that a man was the reason for the change in her, but she had not met a lover, as Alekos had implied. She had enjoyed getting to know her father when he had invited her to spend her holiday at his villa in the south of France but she had promised Lionel that she wouldn’t tell anyone she was his daughter.

      Deep down she felt disappointed that her father wished to keep their relationship secret. It was as if Lionel was ashamed of her. But she reminded herself that he had promised to introduce her to her half-siblings on Friday, and perhaps then he would openly welcome her as his daughter. She pulled her mind back to the present when she realised Alekos was speaking.

      ‘It will be my business if your work is affected because you’re mooning over some guy.’

      Sara still refused to rise to Alekos’s verbal baiting. She tapped the tip of her pencil on her pad and said with heavy emphasis, ‘I’m ready to start work when you are.’

      Alekos picked up a client’s folder from the pile on his desk, but he did not open it. Instead he leaned back in his chair, an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he surveyed her for long minutes while her tension grew and she was sure he must see the pulse beating erratically at the base of her throat.

      ‘Why did you change your holiday plans and go to France rather than Spain?’

      ‘The holiday company I’d booked with cancelled my trip, but a...friend invited me to stay at his villa in Antibes.’

      ‘Would this friend be the man whose voice I heard in the background when I phoned you with a query from the Miami office a week ago?’

      Sara tensed. Could Alekos possibly have recognised her famous father’s voice?

      ‘Why are you suddenly fascinated with my private life?’

      ‘I’m merely concerned for your well-being and offering a timely reminder that holiday romances notoriously don’t last.’

      ‘For goodness’ sake!’ Sara told herself not to be fooled by Alekos’s ‘concern for her wellbeing’. His real concern was he did not want his PA moping about or unable to concentrate on her work because she’d suffered a broken heart. ‘What makes you think I had a holiday romance?’

      He trailed his eyes over her, subjecting her to a thorough appraisal that brought a flush to her cheeks. ‘It’s obvious. Before you went on holiday you wore frumpy clothes that camouflaged your figure. But after spending a month in France you have undergone a transformation into a frankly very attractive young woman. It doesn’t take a detective to work out that a love affair is probably the cause of your new-found sensuality.’

      ‘Well, of course you would assume that a man is the reason I’ve altered my appearance.’ Sara’s temper simmered. ‘It couldn’t be that I decided to update my wardrobe for me.’ His cynical expression fuelled her anger but she also felt hurt. Had she really looked so awful in her navy blue suit with her hair secured in a neat bun, as Alekos had said? It was pathetic the way her heart had leapt when he’d complimented her new look and told her she was attractive.

      ‘You are such a male chauvinist,’ she snapped. Ignoring the warning glint in his eyes, she said furiously, ‘I suppose you think I altered the way I dress in the hope of impressing you?’

      The landline phone on his desk rang and Sara instinctively reached out to answer it. Simultaneously Alekos did the same and, as his fingers brushed against hers, she felt a sizzle of electricity shoot up her arm. ‘Oh!’ She tried to snatch her hand away, but he snaked his fingers around her wrist and stroked his thumb pad over her thudding pulse.

      ‘When you dressed to come to work this morning, did you choose your outfit to please me?’ His black eyes burned like hot coals into hers.

      Sara flushed guiltily. ‘Of course not.’ She refused to admit to herself, let alone to Alekos, that for the past two years she had fantasised about him desiring her. She stared at his chiselled face and swallowed. ‘Are you going to answer the call?’ she said breathlessly.

      To her relief, he let go of her wrist and picked up the phone. She resisted the urge to leap out of her seat and run out of his office. Instead she made herself stroll across the room to the coffee machine. The familiar routine of pouring water into the machine’s reservoir and inserting a coffee capsule into the compartment gave her a few moments’ breathing space to bring herself under control.

      Why had she goaded Alekos like that? She had always been careful to hide her attraction to him but he must have noticed how the pulse in her wrist had almost jumped through her skin because it had been beating so hard, echoing the thudding beat of her heart.

      She could not put off carrying their coffees over to his desk any longer, and she was thankful that Alekos did not glance at her when he finished his phone call and opened the file in front of him. He waited for her to sit down and pick up her notepad before he began to dictate at breakneck speed, making no allowances for the fact that she hadn’t taken shorthand notes for a month.

      It set the tone for the rest of the day as they worked together to clear the backlog that had built up while Sara had been away. At five o’clock she rolled her aching