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At His Mercy (The Billionaire’s Beck & Call, Part 2)


By Delilah Fawkes




“Isabeau! Get in here this instant!”

A shiver of anticipation raced down my spine and I allowed myself time for a smile before jumping up from my desk. This was the second time Mr. Drake called me into his office today, and from his tone, he sounded like he was about to lose it. Just as I’d planned.

I eased open the mahogany door and slipped inside, checking my hair to make sure it hadn’t escaped its chignon. Mr. Drake sat on the edge of his desk facing the doorway, perched like a bird of prey. His wavy hair was perfectly in place, but his green eyes had a wild look behind them, like I was trying his last nerve.

And maybe I was.

“Come here.” His voice was dangerously low.

I walked toward him slowly, suddenly feeling nervous. What if my plan backfired? What if instead of punishing me like last time, he just fired me instead? I swallowed, my mouth suddenly drier than a cotton ball.

I stopped a couple of feet away from him, but he crooked his finger, beckoning me closer. I gulped and complied, moving forward until we were eye to eye, his gaze boring into me. He was so close now that I could smell the fresh scent of his aftershave just inches from my nose.

“What,” he said, “Is this?”

He thrust a piece of paper in front of me, and I suppressed a smirk. The copy I’d made of the boardroom minutes was off center, the edge cut off in a way I knew was making him crazy. Mr. Drake was nothing if not a control freak.

“It’s the copy you asked for,” I said, innocently.

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