Page 7 of Undercover Billionaire

Ari twirled the umbrella absently as he relived the moment again. He’d kissed her.He’dkissedher.

Even now, he couldn’t say what had come over him, but his pulse had rushed through his ears and his chest had filled with the burning need to taste her mouth, and suddenly his lips were landing on hers and it had been such a shock he’d been too stunned to move.

He hadn’t ever thought this moment would come. The moment he’d desire another woman. He hadn’t sought it or expected it. In fact, he’d beenjust finewithout that aspect in his life.

He’d been content knowing he’d had his one great love.

But here it was –desire– and Ari didn’t know what to do with it. How could something he didn’t need or want feel so good? How had the physical pain he’d felt sitting at the bar over his unexpected reaction to Kelsey’s perky friendliness have melted away so easily when they were sitting on his bed?

Because ithadbeen… easy. So easy.

Ari’s heart seized in his chest at the thought, and he tossed the umbrella in the bedside bin as if it had suddenly turned into a live snake. He wasn’t ready for that – to move on. He still felt… married. Logically, he knew he wasn’t being unfaithful to Talia, but he wasn’t ready toreplaceher, either.

Theo would be over the moon if he knew – not that Ari would ever disclose what had happened. But his family had been shoving women at him for the last two years, hoping they’d be some kind of antidote to his grief.

Ari understood they were worried about him, concerned about his reclusiveness and fretting about how he’d withdrawn into his job, how he’d buried himself in numbers and spreadsheets instead of facinglife. But they’d been his salvation during his blackest, bleakest days.

Being productive, taking over the reigns as the Oceanós Line CFO to drag the family’s ailing cruise ship enterprise back into the black, had given him a reason to get up every morning.

A purpose.

Speaking of which, Ari checked his phone for the time. Almost seven o’clock. It wasn’t surprising he’d slept for so long. Enduring a migraine was a physically exhausting experience for which sleep was the best cure.

And hewason holiday.

Well,officially, anyway. Unofficially, despite cocktail umbrellas and mind-bending kisses, Ari was here to do a job. He was on theHellenic Spiritundercoverto investigate why the ship that had once been the pride of the fleet was not only losing paying passengers and therefore money but also having difficulty retaining staff.

He’d suggested this scenario at the board meeting two weeks ago, assuming the company would employ someone to undertake the comprehensive clandestine assessment. After all, secret passengers, like secret shoppers, were tactics they’d employed before to assess passenger experience and keep crew on their toes.

But then Theo had suggested Ari be the one. Ari had protested –all those fucking people– but, as Theo had been quick to point out, no one would do a more thorough, more targeted assessment than Ari because nobody knew the business better or took more pride in the ships and their profitability than Ari.

Also, being theotherCallisthenes son, the younger one – the one whodidn’tappear every other week on the cover of a tabloid magazine or revel in being an international playboy – he could blend in without being recognised.

Plus, you need a fucking holiday.

The board – which consisted entirely of family members from his grandfather to his parents and assorted uncles, aunts and cousins – had nodded their heads at Theo’s irritable proclamation.

Ordinarily, Ari would have told Theo to go screw himself, board meeting or not, but his brother had known just the right strings to pull. TheHellenic Spirit’s continued problems were a matter of personal pride for Ari. It was the only ship that hadn’t shown improvement since the measures he’d put in place across the entire fleet when he’d become the CFO.

Staff turnover was high, customer satisfaction surveys were subpar and three out of the last dozen cruises had seen outbreaks of gastro bugs. Not to mention the steady decline in numbers,thisvoyage being no exception.

TheHellenic Spirit’s capacity was four thousand people – two thousand three hundred passengers and seventeen hundred crew. There were currently fifteen hundred passengers on board. That was a shortfall of eight hundred guests, which was, in the long run, unsustainable.

And he – or Ari George, anyway – was here to uncover why.

Ari roused himself, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He needed to get dressed for his seven thirty dinner sitting and then he was going to spend a few hours checking out the casino.

His gaze fell on the cocktail umbrella sitting in the bottom of the bin, and an image of Kelsey rose unbidden. A slug of grief, dark and visceral, hit him square in the middle of his sternum and he scrambled for his mental cache of Talia images. The one on their wedding day with her smiling up at him like he’d hung the goddamn moon offered itself up, and he grabbed on, refusing to relinquish it as he pulled his gaze from the bin.

Spotting his wallet, he reached for it, suddenly remembering he’d yet to check the contents. He’d deliberately left it behind to see if it was returned to him and if so, if anything was taken. He’d put in enough money to be tempting but not raise questions about his level of wealth.

He was supposed to be an ordinary Joe, after all – not a multi-millionaire heir to a Greek shipping line.

Ari counted the money. Twice.Two hundred euros. He counted it again. There was twenty missing. A feeling of dread sunk to the pit of his stomach and his throat went tight.

Hisguiltintensified.

Had Kelsey taken it? Had she come here, smiled at him, sat with him, brought afucking cocktail umbrellawith her all whilehistwenty burnt a hole in her pocket?

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