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“Don’t. He’ll eat you alive.”
“I can handle him just fine.”
Walking with confidence, she was totally ready to get the billionaire into the car and off to the jet.
She also didn’t bother knocking since she was a little mad that he had made his PA cry. The man sitting behind a massive desk would have otherwise made her stagger. As tall as Henry and Asher, and probably with a similar muscular physique with the way his bespoke suit draped over his shoulders.
With his head bent, his short, dark hair gleamed with health. From what she saw from his profile, his face was all hard angles with a jawline that was structured in such a way as to deliver dominance and demand respect.
“You’re fired,” he said without looking up.
“I beg your pardon,” she replied, at once annoyed by his arrogance.
“I said you’re fired. You may leave.”
“If you’re going to fire me, at least have the decency to look me in the eye.”
Her words seemed to elicit some response in him. His jaw clenched before he looked up. For a split second, a frown creased his thick, silky eyebrows before he sat back in his chair.
Blakely didn’t dare falter or squirm under his intense gaze. She could take as much as she could give.
“You’re fired,” he said, then dismissed her.
The absolute nerve of the man.
“Use my name.”
“You’re fired, Lynette.”
“You are unbelievable, Lord Cunningham. The person you want to fire is not me. She has blonde hair and blue eyes, and her name isLinda, not Lynette. She’s worked for you for six months, and you couldn’t take the time to learn her name?
“Also, you aren’t going to fire her. You are going to be less scary when you give her instructions, so she’s not so petrified of getting them wrong and then actually gets them wrong. Be nice. It’ll cost you nothing.”
This made him look up at her again before he unfolded his body from the chair. She forced herself not to take a step back.
“Who are you?”
She took a deep breath and, for the third time that morning, delivered her greeting to an English aristocrat. “Lord Cunningham, my name is Blakely Cohen. I work for Andrew Symmonds, the Duke of Brairbrook, your father. I’m here to extend a personal invitation to a birthday party for Andrew’s wife.
“Your father will greatly appreciate your and your brothers’ presence at the event. I have a car waiting outside to drive us to the airport. You can come as you are since I have already had a wardrobe delivered to Brairbrook House on the Upper East Side, which is where you will be staying over the weekend. And yes, in case you’re wondering, Lord Milton and Lord Bailey are already in the car I mentioned. I collected them this morning, and they have agreed to attend Tanya’s birthday party.”
“Henry and Asher are outside?” he asked, closing the distance between them, his hands in his suit pockets, his dark blue eyes drawing her in and then drowning her in them. This time, she thought her body was going to melt into a puddle if he came any closer. Was London always this hot?
“They are. I suppose you will want to see that for yourself. So shall we?’
She led the way, still not 100% sure he was going to follow her. It was the scent of his cologne that enveloped her first as he walked in behind her.
As they passed his fully distraught, near-petrified PA on their way out, Blakely stopped to speak to her.
“Linda, Lord Cunningham will be away for the weekend and possibly on Monday too. Please hold the fort.”
Linda nodded, completely dumbfounded. Poor thing.
Oh, and Linda, you aren’t fired, just to be clear,” she said as they stepped into the elevator and faced the PA’s desk. “In fact, Lord Cunningham has given you a raise.” She smiled broadly at the pretty blonde before the doors closed on them.
“You’re lucky I’m not taking you over my knee and spanking you for throwing around my money.”
“You’re lucky your archaic fantasies won’t work on me.”
