Athena Tsaliki was a chameleon. An outrageous, rude, bitchy, beautiful chameleon who left a trail of destruction and tears in her wake. Slender and in perfect physical shape, with her pretty green eyes and wide mouth she had the face of an angel and the tongue of a viper. The staff he’d inherited in the buyout all hated her. Her siblings, all brothers, hated her. The few members of staff in his other business ventures who’d had dealings with her hated her.
But sacking her would cost him. That had been the deal. A one hundred million penalty for any Tsaliki sibling sacked before the three months was up. Athena, the trickiest of the lot, came with a premium. If he sacked her, he would have to pay a billion-euro penalty, and while it would definitely be worth taking that financial hit, Draco had never admitted defeat about anything in his life and he wasn’t going to start now. A man didn’t become a self-made billionaire before he hit his thirties by turning down a challenge. Draco thrived on challenges, and in Athena he’d found his biggest challenge yet.
‘I’m not going to sack you, Athena,’ he said. ‘But you are welcome to do everyone a favour and quit.’
She pulled one of the many faces that made her so mesmerising, this particular expression a cross between rueful and sad, and with a voice pitched to match it, said, ‘We both know I can’t do that. My darling brother will cut me off forever if I quit…’ She suddenly brightened. ‘Unless you want to support me? I wouldn’t ask for much—just a townhouse with a minimum of six bedrooms and views of the Aegean—can you believe the apartment Alexis has stuck me in doesn’t have a decent view of anything?—an island of my own in the Seychelles, a private plane of my own, all the upkeep and maintenance and staffing costs paid for all this, of course, a clothing allowance of a hundred thousand a week and an additional allowance of a hundred thousand a week, index linked to rise with inflation. Oh, and a couple of cars. Those Baby Bentleys are really cute. What do you think?’
Not for the first time, Draco had to bite back amusement. Athena’s green eyes were sparkling, not with hope or expectation but with mischief.
Leaning back in his seat, he steepled his fingers, shook his head and suppressed a smile. ‘As tempting as your suggestion is, you’re way past the age of being supported.’
Her eyes widened in fake outrage, mouth dropping open. ‘Are you calling meold?’
‘Hardly. You’re a decade younger than me.’
‘Ooh, so you’re thirty-one, then?’
Biting back yet more laughter, he raised an eyebrow. ‘You know damn well I’m thirty-eight.’
‘That makes you eleven years older than me…just.’ She covered her mouth and leaned forward to whisper, ‘I won’t tell anyone your real age if you don’t tell them mine.’
‘Ageing only bothers those who trade on their looks,’ he said pointedly.
‘I know! You have to feel sorry for those people. If they would only cultivate a personality, they might not feel the need to inject their foreheads every other week.’ She pulled a rueful face and shrugged in a ‘but what can you do?’ fashion.
‘As entertaining as this conversation is…’
She beamed.
‘…I’m supposed to be in a finance meeting, so let’s get this wrapped up—you’re now going to work directly for me.’
She wriggled her shoulders in mock excitement. ‘Ooh, a promotion! My family will be so proud!’
Draco had no idea how he kept a straight face or how he was able to keep his tone stern. ‘For the next two months you will work your contracted hours, and in those contracted hours you are going to do some real, actual work. You will be at your desk by eight-thirty a.m. and leave no earlier than five p.m. When I travel, you will travel with me and if that involves working late or over weekends then you will work late and over weekends. You will not go for lunch and then decide that having a bikini wax or highlights in your hair is more important than returning to the office.’
She was nodding along as if agreeing to every word.
‘You will dress appropriately for the office. No more tutus, no more Elsa costumes—’
‘What about Ana?’
‘The red wig doesn’t suit you.’
She gasped as if affronted.
‘No more ripped jeans, no more leather, no more mini-mini-skirts—no one needs to see the colour of your knickers.’
She fluttered her eyelashes again. ‘Yes, but that’s why bikini waxing is so important.’
Hewould notlaugh or respond in any other fashion. ‘The next time you come to the office wearing anything I deem inappropriate I will personally dress you in one of Evangeline’s dresses.’
‘Ooh, will you strip me first? That could be fun!’
He gave her the look that made every single other employee quail. ‘Appropriate attire, Athena. Business attire. Do you understand?’
In the short—but excessively long—time he’d had to suffer Athena Tsaliki, Draco had trained himself to ignore her innocently delivered suggestive and flirtatious comments. Athena was one of Athens’ most notorious socialites. She was used to wrapping men around her little finger, using sex as her weapon of choice. Not that he had an issue with that, and if he were to meet her again in one of the nightclubs he’d occasionally seen her dancing at until the early hours and they were to catch each other’s eye before she found another man to fall out of the club with and there was no risk of anyone finding out—Athena might not care about her reputation but Draco cared about his—he’d gladly take her home and see if she was as spectacular in bed as the grapevine suggested.
However, Athena was trouble with a capital T, and she would have no qualms in weaponising any sex between them while she remained in his employ, so until the three-month mark passed, Draco would keep his hands to himself and his thoughts far away from imagining those long limbs wrapped around his waist.
