Her almond-shaped brown eyes tracked his progress across the office, her pulse hammering her body from the inside out, the closer he came to her desk.
Thanos Stathakis was here. In his office. In Manhattan.
Despite the fact she’d temped for the man for five months, she hadn’t once laid eyes on him, outside the endless stream of photos that littered the Internet. Photos of him invariably in a state of undress, relaxed, surrounded by a bevy of supermodels and actresses, partying, drinking, living the kind of life Alice could barely imagine.
The kind of life her father had also adored. The thought should have been sobering, but it wasn’t. She was almost mesmerised by the sight of him in the flesh.
Thanos Stathakis wasn’t just a man.
He was a legend.
His success in business was renowned—alongside his brother, he’d turned a crumbling business into an empire once more, like a powerful phoenix rising from the ashes of scandal and failure. But it was more than that. Thanos Stathakis was unlike anyone she’d ever known—in person, it was easy to see why the world’s media was obsessed with him.
If there was a mould for tall, dark and handsome then Thanos had certainly broken it. He was broad-shouldered, slim-hipped, with strength and charisma in every long stride of his powerful legs. Unlike the photographs she’d seen of him, he wore a suit now, navy blue with a crisp white shirt that only served to emphasise the depth of his tan. His eyes were caramel-coloured and rimmed in thick, curling black lashes, so he looked almost as though he’d worked overtime with a mascara wand. He was the very image of the billionaire magnate she knew him to be, with the exception of his hair, which was somehow wild and untamed, as though he’d stepped straight off a speedboat on the Riviera and into the doors of this Manhattan monolith.
She stared at him because she couldn’t help it, and even when his eyes jerked to hers, she didn’t look away. Not for several long, compelling seconds.
His lips curled in what could have been a smile, or could have been derision, and then he stopped close enough to her desk for Alice to hold her breath.
‘You’re the temp?’
It was enough to jolt her back into the present—and who she was to him. The temp! As if she hadn’t been keeping his life running seamlessly these past five months, since his regular assistant had been on leave.
‘Alice, yes.’
‘Alice.’ He nodded, as if it didn’t matter, and in a way that made her absolutely certain he’d have forgotten her name again in an instant.
Except he didn’t turn and walk away. He continued to stare at her in a way that set her pulse racing, so she had to forcibly remind herself that he generally occupied himself with glamorous models, that there would be nothing in her somewhat plain face to cause him to stare like this. No, he must have another reason for looking into her eyes as though he’d seen her before.
He blinked then, like severing a thread, his dark lashes closing against his cheeks, forming perfect fans for the briefest of seconds before he opened his eyes and speared her with his intent gaze.
‘Print the file on P & A Industries. I have a meeting in ten minutes.’
He spun on his heel and stalked towards the office to her left—an office she’d only been into once or twice since taking up this role. It was his office, and he hadn’t been in New York the whole time she’d been at Stathakis Corp.
It was the final straw in rousing Alice back to reality.
Years ago, she’d looked at another man with that same deer-in-the-headlights sense of drowning and she’d come to regret it hugely. She’d fallen for Clinton’s practised flirtation, hook, line, and sinker, and learned a valuable lesson—she wouldn’t fall for another man’s easy charms, ever again. And Thanos Stathakis was not in the realm of Clinton. Thanos was...bigger and somehow more dangerous.
She had no business staring at him as though he were the second coming.
She pushed back from her desk, following behind him. ‘A meeting, sir?’
He opened the door, moving into the enormous space without turning the lights on, so it was Alice who flicked the switch and brought the overheads to life.
Like the rest of the building, this large room had a Scandinavian feel, with light timber furniture, pale walls and a cream carpet. The artwork was minimalist, the light fittings modern and striking. His desk sat against one wall with a state-of-the-art computer atop it and a piece of expensive art behind it; across the room, framed perfectly by floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased an incredible view of Manhattan, was a boardroom table large enough to accommodate twenty-two people.
‘Mmm...’ He made a noise of agreement, shrugging out of his jacket and placing it carelessly across the back of his chair. The movement only served to highlight the breadth of his shoulders and arms that looked to have been sculpted by God’s own hand. Her lips parted and she stared—she knew she was staring but almost for the first time in Alice’s life her self-control was nowhere to be seen.
‘You know,’ he drawled with a sinful smile pulling at those impossibly strong lips. ‘That thing where people come to the same place at the same time to discuss a prearranged schedule of topics?’
She blinked, embarrassment shifting through her, and she was glad then that she didn’t blush easily. ‘I know what a meeting is,’ she said softly, the fact he was teasing her setting off a thousand fires in the depth of her soul. ‘I just meant it’s not in your diary.’
Something flashed in his expression—triumph? Wariness?—and then he nodded curtly. ‘It was arranged this morning. Kosta Carinedes happens to be in New York so I thought it was a good opportunity to...see him.’
Alice nodded. ‘Fine. How many people will be at the meeting?’ She was already slipping back into her professional groove, thinking of how quickly she could alert the catering team to send up refreshments, how many copies of documents she’d need to print.
‘Just him and me. And you,’ he added, as an afterthought. ‘In case I need anything throughout.’