Yvonne Lindsay – Boardrooms & a Billionaire Heir / Jealousy & a Jewelled Proposition: Boardrooms & a Billionaire Heir (страница 4)

She hesitated as he made short work of the corridor with his long, devouring strides. So he didn’t want to view his domain, cast an all-encompassing powerful eye over the magnificent Sydney view. Of course. He had the mirror image from his North Sydney complex. Still, she’d anticipated questions, pulled all the relevant files and promotional material and put them on his desk. She’d made tentative meetings with department heads.

“Keep up, Miss McLeod,” Jake said curtly as he pressed the elevator button.

Holly quickly regrouped and moved forward, apprehension giving way to irritation in the face of his cool perusal. “You’re not authorised to remove files from the building, Mr Vance,” she said shortly, refusing to flinch as his sharp eyes met hers. “But I’ll go and personally make sure they’re delivered up to your temporary office.”

He scrutinised her with all the skill of a pro, but she returned his look steadily. Oh, I know how you work, Mr Midas Touch. The stare-down was part of his strategy, along with an emotionless, layout-the-facts style that most men grudgingly admired, despite his ruthless reputation. Men wanted to be him; women just wanted him. Period.

She pushed the elevator button repeatedly, tightening her grip on her file so it crushed up against her breasts like protective armour. “I think now’s a good time to discuss how you’d like to work while you’re here.”

He frowned. “I don’t expect you to be performing any personal assistant duties. I already have one.”

“Holly is a wealth of information about Blackstone’s. We’re fortunate to have her,” Kimberley said, from behind them. Holly ducked her gaze guiltily at the unexpected praise as Kim continued. “Make use of her expertise and gather as much knowledge as you can before deciding to invest with us.”

Holly felt a confusing frisson of adversarial tension crackle between these two, like an argument was in the cards in the next two seconds. She’d never seen Kimberley be anything except utterly polite and professional, even to people she disliked.

Jake Vance, on the other hand, chose to do as he pleased, courtesy be damned.

“I need to speak to you later, Jake,” Kimberley said pointedly.

“I can fit you in tomorrow.”

“I’m flat out with Fashion Week but I can find time. I’ll let Holly know.” She gave up on the elevator and reached for the fire stairs door.

Jake turned to Holly when the door clicked shut, his face a study in controlled irritation. “It looks like I have myself an assistant, Miss McLeod.” She blinked as he added, “As to how I work, it’s quickly. I ask questions. You answer them. Simple.”

She straightened her spine. “Do you have an agenda? A deadline or time frame that—”

“I plan on this taking no more than a week, ten days at the most. Every morning I’ll decide on our timetable and we’ll take it from there. I expect you to start work at eight and stay until everything that needs to get done is done. You need to work around my schedule and be available at my North Sydney office. Do you have other work commitments?”

She shook her head. “You’re my first priority.”

Holly watched in fascination as his sensuous mouth thinned, almost as if he were holding something back. His eyes, on the other hand, glittered for one second before he glanced away. “Let’s start with the building layout and other assets.” As if on cue, the doors pinged open and he swept his hand forward, indicating she go first.

“Our ground level is secured with high-end technology and a security desk, as you’ve seen,” Holly began as they descended. “No employee gets in without their ID and a walk though the scanners. Visitors must be signed in and accompanied by an employee.”

“What about the Blackstones themselves?”

“All executives are located on the forty-third floor with the rest of the board, and use this private elevator. Finance is on the thirty-fifth floor, PR on the twentieth. We also have an employee-only gym and health club, child-care center and cafeteria. We own the whole building, including the grand ballroom, shop fronts, bar and three restaurants that cover the ground, first and second floors facing George Street. Our employees get generous discounts at these and we have a standing table for executive use at each restaurant. We occasionally rent out our ballroom to other companies. Last year it was the B&S and Make a Wish Charity Ball.”

She held out a glossy brochure that she’d helped design, one that detailed the building’s facilities. He just glanced at it, then back at her.

“No company propaganda. I prefer facts.”

Right. Feeling as if she’d failed some kind of test, she tucked the offending material back into her folder. Take a breath, Holly. Work out your strategy and stick with it.

“The rest of the floors are taken up by HR, the press room and our other divisions.”

“Which are?”

“Blackstone Jewellery, International Sales, Mining, Crafting and Design, Legal. I have a fact sheet of the departmental hierarchy and breakdown.”

“I’ll need that e-mailed.”

She nodded and fixed her eyes on the descending numbers.

Jake crossed his arms and studied her profile before ending at the low, elegant sweep of dark hair that brushed past her ears and up into a stylish ponytail.

An unexpected stab of lust hit him low and hard, but with practised ease he stuffed it back. Still, it didn’t stop his gaze from tripping back over her in leisurely study, taking in the navy suit that cinched in her waist, the V-neck shirt revealing a creamy throat adorned with one simple diamond on a gold chain. Down farther, her legs were encased in navy pants, ending in a pair of absurdly high sandals.

He found himself staring at those feet, the nails painted a subtle peach with the second toe sporting a diamond stud toe ring.

When she shifted the file in her arms and glanced over at him, he suddenly realised he’d been staring at the woman’s feet.

He snapped his eyes up to meet hers and it hit him again. It wasn’t the curve of her lips, nor the way her blue eyes tilted up at the corners. It was the tiny birthmark on the left side of her mouth, like some artist had painted it on to tease and tempt. To focus a man’s attention.

A prime kissing target.

When she glanced away, her profile oozed cool professionalism. So why did that calm facade annoy him?

Jake was used to all the tricks when it came to business, but this was definitely a twist. They could’ve given him any old assistant, yet this gorgeous brunette’s presence meant they’d obviously read the reports about Mia.

She was here not only to spy but to distract.

He scowled as his phone rang again. Expert, was she, held in high regard by Blackstone’s? That was enough to give him pause.

He’d learned from his mistakes. If they thought a pair of cat’s eyes and a kissy-mole would divert him from his purpose, they had another think coming. The press called him Mr Midas Touch, the bad boy of business, and if the Blackstones wanted an unfair fight, they would find out how bad he could be.

Two

So that was the great Jake Vance, Mr Midas Touch. Owner of the billion dollar AdVance Corp, corporate shark and Australia’s third richest single man under forty.

Holly quickly dumped the financials on the desk of her temporary office, whirled out the glass doors and back to the elevators.

She’d been prepared for the arrogance, the intolerance of anyone he considered beneath him. He was unconventional, a risk taker. He made business decisions that wiser people labelled career suicide. But somehow he always managed to come out on top. Maybe because he gave the impression he had nothing to lose. Those who had nothing risked nothing.

But the Sunday feature article hadn’t warned of the zing of attraction that had nearly floored her, the aura of power and control that stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth and turned the words to dust in her throat.

Working at Blackstone’s put her directly in the path of many powerful men. But Jake Vance…It was something in his face, the way his eyes had swept over her even as he tried to keep his perusal impersonal. Call her crazy, but she’d felt the air practically crackle with a weird sort of expectation.

The elevator doors swung open and she pressed the basement button impatiently.

Their gazes had locked just long enough for her to recognise the moment—predatory interest, an almost promissory flame in those deep green eyes. His mouth, a frankly sensual sculpture in warm flesh, had tweaked for a brief second, not enough to be called a smile.

Then he’d shut it down.

The only man in all her twenty-six years who’d forcibly smothered his interest.

No wonder he was at the top of his game. With that much control over his emotions, he was dark, brooding danger in an Italian designer suit. Heaven help a woman if the man ever genuinely smiled.

She curled her lip at the thought. Men in power—those who played God with people’s lives—turned her blood cold.

Like Max Carlton, her soon-to-be ex-boss.

She’d been surprised when he’d approved her temporary transfer to PR eighteen months ago, but she’d had no time to worry if that approval came with strings, not when Blackstone’s ten-year anniversary had been her top priority. Months later she’d been on the team organising Blackstone’s Australian Fashion Week presence. It’d been a chance to show Kimberley Perrini her Blackstone’s-funded studies were paying off, a chance she’d desperately wanted since graduating over a year ago. Then, last week, she’d been pulled from the glamorous event that was the ultimate dream of every Sydney designer to babysit Jake Vance.