The Art of Loving a Greek Billionaire
thousand reasons to be thankful for. His chest would tighten up at the mere thought of losing her, and yet when he opened his eyes and saw reality for what it was, why did he feel such anger at himself and her?
    Always he could not help but feel that she was hiding something from him, but what was it? And why would she have something to hide?
    An hour later, Damen had successfully pushed the thoughts out of his mind by concentrating on his work. There was a knock on his door before his secretary came in. “Sir? Someone is here to see you who’s not on your appointment book. Her name’s Farah Jenkins—”
    Damen looked up impatiently from the proposal documents he was perusing.
    “—and she says she is an old high school acquaintance of Ms. Tanner.”
    About to tell Bart to get rid of his unexpected visitor, Damen’s mouth snapped shut. His eyes narrowing, he said expressionlessly, “Let her in. If I buzz you, it means you should come in and make the necessary excuses to get her out of my office.”
    “Understood, sir.” Bart’s head bobbed several times as he retreated. He came back a moment later, opening the door for a petite strawberry blonde with hard china-blue eyes. She was dressed beautifully and expensively, but he knew her type. She was rich but not that rich to rub elbows with his kind, and she would do anything to make that possible.
    He sincerely hoped she was indeed a mere acquaintance, and that Mairi had not been fooled into being her friend.
    But are you sure they are not the same kind, only Mairi is more adept at hiding her true colors? The tone inside his mind had him stiffening.  
    “Thank you for allowing me a few moments of your time, Damen.”
    The woman’s voice had Damen looking up. Her voice was sweet and husky, but it also had a practiced tone to it, like it was something she had perfected. Her sense of overfamiliarity was repulsive, but his feelings about it did not show on his face as he inclined his head in acknowledgment of her words.
    “It is my pleasure to welcome any acquaintance of my fiancée.” Walking around his desk, he gestured towards the living area of his office. “Shall we?”  
    She walked ahead of him, her hips swaying seductively as her perfume wafted towards him.
    He became even more repelled. This woman, whoever the fuck she was – Damen had already forgotten her name – was no different from the countless beautiful women who tried to seduce him. Their type believed that their pretty faces were more than enough to enslave men.
    “Would you like to drink anything?”
    She shook her head, surprising him. “I don’t intend to take too much of your time.”  
    She took a seat on the couch and he took the leather armchair adjacent to it. “What may I do for you then?”
    “Oh, it’s more a matter of what I have come to do for you.” Her smile became brittle. “I flew here as soon as I could upon reading the news about dear little Mairi. Stavros Manolis is your friend, isn’t he?”
    He said evenly, “You already know the answer to that.” The sound of her laugh was hollow, and his skin prickled in warning at hearing it. This was not going to end well. He couldn’t yet figure out why, but he was fucking sure of it.
    Damen stood up. “If you came here to play games—”
    Farah snapped, “I came to prevent you from being conned by a gold digger.”
    “You have overstayed your welcome,” he bit out. “Leave before I have security escort you out.” Turning his back on her, Damen stalked back to his desk, intent on buzzing Barry to get the woman out of his sight before his temper exploded.
    “I’ve brought proof,” the woman half-screeched at him.  
    Suddenly she was in front of him, pulling out a medium-sized envelope from her purse. Flinging it at him, she said, “She stole the man I loved from me!”
    There was a demented look in her eyes that almost had him cursing. Not bothering to answer her, he pressed the buzzer for Barry. When his

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