At His Desire: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 7

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Authors: Delilah Fawkes
At His Desire: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 7

 
    By
Delilah Fawkes

 
 
 
    I
awoke from dreams of rough lovemaking in Mr. Drake’s dungeon and stretched my
arms over my head, yawning peacefully. I could still feel where his hands had
gripped my hips the night before, and traced the skin he’d touched with relish.
The sun was just coming up over the hill, the floor-to-ceiling windows tinting
themselves to keep out the unwelcome light.
    I
sat up, realizing the other side of the bed was empty, the red sheets crumpled
and cold. Where was Mr. Drake? I’d hoped to catch him sleeping just this
once... to get a glimpse of him beside me, vulnerable and completely mine. To
see him, just once, when he wasn’t in total control.
    No
such luck.
    I
should have known that a man like him always rises early.
    I
slipped a silk robe over my shoulders and padded down the hall to the stairway,
hoping to find him at breakfast, but as I neared the second floor landing,
raised voices met my ears. I stopped just shy of Mr. Drake’s study, hesitating
in the shadows. The door was open just a crack, but the male voice floating
through the doorway was all too familiar. Lex Smith was here, his sharp voice
echoing through the hallway.
    “We’ve
got no other choice, Chase! Honestly, what else do you think we should do?
We’ve got to make an impression on these people, or we’ll lose them.”
    “I
thought you said it wasn’t anything to worry about? That the losses were
minimal?”
    “So,
I understated the issue a bit. That’s not the point. We’ve got to build investor
confidence.”
    “We
can’t afford-”
    “We
can’t afford not to!”
    I
heard Mr. Drake sigh, and imagined him running a hand through his hair. I felt
like I was intruding on a private moment, an eavesdropper who had no business
listening in. I debated with myself for a moment, then turned and snuck
downstairs toward the kitchen. If Mr. Drake wanted me to know what was going
on, he’d tell me himself. I wasn’t about to break his trust.
    After
a hot cup of coffee and one of the chef’s delicious omelets, Mr. Drake appeared
around the corner. For the briefest of moments, he looked exhausted, his green
eyes dulled with worry. Then he saw me, and smiled.
    “So,
you’re up after all. Excellent. I need you to go back to your apartment and
pack your things.”
    I
lowered my fork. “Good morning to you, too.”
    He
leaned over and kissed my hair, his expression softening. “Good morning, Isa. I
wish I weren’t in such a hurry, but I have work to do. Quickly. We need to put
together a weekend getaway for the investors and members of the board, and we
need to do it now.”
    He
grabbed a fresh baked croissant from a basket on the counter and toyed with it
absentmindedly. “Hopefully they haven’t already gotten wind...”
    I
put my hand on his arm, and he looked at me, as if startled that I was still
there.
    “What
can I do to help?”
    He
frowned, his eyes appraising me. “I need to call everyone on the investor list,
and set up three days and two nights of entertainment to occupy them all. Mr.
Smith offered his parents’ hotel and casino as a possible location.”
    I
took a deep swig of coffee, and stood up. “No problem. Give me the names, and
I’ll take care of the rest.”
    His
lips twisted into a half smile, his eyes twinkling incredulously. “Isa, are you
sure--”
    “I
used to put together events for my grandmother’s charity all the time. I’ve got
this.”
    He
raised an eyebrow, obviously needing more.
    “She
built a halfway house for problem teens, but could no longer handle running it
when she fell ill. I was the only one who could help out, so I guess you could
say I learned on the job. I know a thing or two about organizing events for
wealthy benefactors.” I smiled up at him. “Trust me. I can help you, if you let
me.”
    He
ran a hand over his chin, as if absorbing my words. “Well, aren’t you just full
of

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