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      She frowned. ‘If you’re going aboard the tanker, you’ll need someone to jot down the details and take pictures of the damage.’

      ‘I merely want to see the damage from the inside myself. I’m leaving everything else in the hands of the investigators. And, if I need to, I’m sure I can handle taking a few pictures. What I’m not sure of is the situation inside the vessel and I won’t risk you getting injured under any circumstances.’ He held out his hand for the camera slung around her neck.

      She looked ready to argue with him. Beneath her T-shirt, her chest rose and fell as she exhaled and Sakis forced himself not to glance down as another spike of erotic heat lanced his groin.

      Theos...

      The unsettling feeling made him snap his fingers, an irritatingly frantic need to step away from her charging into him.

      ‘If you’re sure,’ she started.

      ‘I’m sure.’

      By the time she freed herself from the camera strap and handed it over, her face had settled once more into its customary serene professionalism.

      Her fingers brushed his as he took the camera and Sakis registered a single instance of softness before the contact was disconnected.

      Taking a deep breath, he started to walk away.

      ‘Wait!’

      He turned back. ‘What is it, Moneypenny?’ His tone was harsh but couldn’t stop the disturbing edginess creeping over him.

      She held out a large yellow jumpsuit. ‘You can’t get on the boat without wearing this. The health and safety guidelines require it.’

      Despite the grim situation, Sakis wanted to laugh at her implacable expression as she held him to account.

      ‘Then by all means...if the guidelines require it.’

      He took the plastic garment, shook it out and stepped into it under her watchful eye. He glanced at her as he zipped the jumpsuit and once again saw her lower lip caught between her teeth.

      With more force than was necessary, he shoved the small digital camera into the waterproof pocket and trudged through the oil-slicked water.

      An hour later, the words of his lead investigator made his heart sink.

      ‘I retired from piloting tankers like these ten years ago, and even then the navigation systems were state-of-the-art. Your vessel has the best one I’ve ever seen. There’s no way this was systems failure. Too many fail-safes in place for the vessel to veer this far off course.’

      Sakis gave a grim nod and pulled his phone from his pocket. ‘Moneypenny, get me the head of security. I want to know everything about Morgan Lowell... Yes, the captain of my tanker. And prepare a press release. Unfortunately, the investigators are almost certain this was pilot error.’

      * * *

      Brianna perused the electronic page for typos. Once she was satisfied, she approached where Sakis stood with the environment minister. His yellow jumpsuit was unzipped to the waist, displaying the dark-green T-shirt that moulded his lean, sleekly muscular torso. She’d never thought she’d find the sight of a man slipping on a hideous yellow jumpsuit so...hot and unsettling.

      He turned, and she held her breath as his gaze swept over her. The crackle of electricity she’d felt earlier when their fingers had touched returned.

      Abruptly she pushed it away. They were caught in a severely fraught set of circumstances. What she was experiencing was just residual adrenaline that came with these unfortunate events.

      ‘Is it ready?’ he asked.

      She nodded and passed the press release over, along with the list of names he’d requested. He skimmed the words then passed the tablet back to her. Brianna knew he’d memorised every single word.

      ‘I’ll go and prep the media.’

      She headed for the group of journalists poised behind the white cordon. As she walked, she practised the breathing exercises she’d mastered long before she’d come to work for Sakis Pantelides.

      By the time she reached the group, she’d calmed her roiling emotions.

      ‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is how it’s going to work. Mr Pantelides will give his statement. Then he’ll invite questions—one from each of you.’ She held out a hand at the immediate protests. ‘I’m sure you’ll understand that it’ll take hours for every question you’ve jotted down to be answered and frankly we don’t have time for that. Right now the priority is the salvage operation. So, one question each.’ Control settled over her as her steely gaze held the group’s and received their cooperation.

      Yes, that was more like it. Not for her the searing, jittery feelings of the last few hours, ever since she’d looked up on the plane and caught Sakis’s gaze on her ankle tattoo; since he’d touched her on the beach, told her not to worry that she’d missed the pirates angle. Those few minutes had been intensely...rattling.

      The momentary heat she’d seen in his eyes had thrown her off-balance. At the start of her employment she’d taken pains to hide the tattoo but, after realising Sakis took no notice of what she wore or anything about her, she’d relaxed. The sensation of his eyes on her tattoo had smashed a fist through her tight control.

      It had taken hours to restore it but, now she had, she was determined not to lose it again.

      There was too much at stake.

      Feeling utterly composed, she glanced over to where Sakis waited at the assembled podium. At his nod, she signalled security to let the media through.

      She stood next to the podium and tried not to let his deep voice affect her as he started speaking. His authority and confidence as he outlined the plans for the salvage mission and the search for the missing crew belied the tension in his body. From her position, she could see the rigid outline of his washboard stomach and the braced tension in his legs. Even though his hands remained loose at his sides, his shoulders barely moved as he spoke.

      A camera flashed nearby and she saw his tiniest flinch.

      ‘What’s going to happen to the remaining oil on board?’ a reporter asked.

      His gaze swung to where the minister stood. ‘For their very generous assistance, we’re donating the contents on board the distressed vessel to the coast guard and army. The minister has kindly offered to co-ordinate the distribution.’

      ‘So you’re just going to give away oil worth millions of dollars, out of the goodness of your heart? Are you trying to bribe your way out of your company’s responsibilities, Mr Pantelides?’

      Brianna’s breath stalled but Sakis barely blinked at the caustic remark from a particularly vile tabloid reporter. That he didn’t visibly react was a testament to his unshakeable control.

      ‘On the contrary, as I said at the start, my company assumes one hundred per cent liability for this incident and are working with the government in making reparations. No price is too high to pay for ensuring that the clean-up process is speedy and causes minimum damage to the sea life. This means the remaining crude oil has to be removed as quickly as possible and the vessel secured and towed away. Rather than transfer it to another Pantelides tanker, a process that’ll take time, I’ve decided to donate it to the government. I’m sure you’ll agree it makes perfect sense.’ His tone remained even but the tic in his jaw belied his simmering anger. ‘Next question.’

      ‘Can you confirm what caused the accident? According to your sources, this is one of your newest tankers, equipped with state-of-the-art navigation systems, so what went wrong?’

      ‘That is a question for our investigators to answer once they’d finished their work.’

      ‘What does your gut feeling say?’

      ‘I choose to rely on hard facts when stakes are this high, not gut