Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed(12)
“Kendall, can you come to my office right away, please?”
“Certainly, Mr. Buchanan.”
Although she only said three little words, there was a palpable anxiety lacing her husky voice, and he figured he was on the right track. Something was wrong, very wrong, and he’d get to the bottom of it if it was the last thing he ever did.
Two minutes later, he heard a timid knock at his office door, and he slowly took his booted feet from the executive desk. To increase her anxiety levels further, he waited for his financial controller to knock a second then a third time before casually saying, “Enter.”
When she pushed open the heavy oak door and walked into his office, he was immediately intoxicated by her beauty. Her elegance and loveliness captivated him as much now as it had the first time he’d laid eyes on her, but with composure being of paramount importance, he nonchalantly gestured to the chair opposite.
“Take a seat, honey.” Making the effort to look as concerned and compassionate as humanly possible, he reached across and patted her hand. “How are you feeling today?”
Kendall shifted nervously in her seat. “Much better. Thanks for your concern.”
“That’s good to hear. I understand that migraine can be real debilitating, enough to bring some people right down. By the way, thanks for calling to tell me you weren’t well enough to have dinner with me at Le Bernadin.”
She shuffled again in her seat and let out a barely audible but guilty as hell cough. “I’m sorry I disappointed you, sir. I just felt so unwell.”
Mac feigned his concern again by nodding benignly in her direction. “Yeah, I can imagine. I expect you went straight to bed. Right?”
“Oh, yes. Just a sip of hot milk, and then I was asleep within minutes.”
“Good, real good.”
Fucking liar.
She was a liar, but not a very good one. He’d make her squirm some more before going in for the kill.
“Say, Kendall, you don’t happen to have a twin sister by any chance, do you?”
“No…no…Mr. Buchanan, I’m an only child. I thought you already knew that from my résumé.”
“Yeah, I knew that, honey, but I just thought I’d ask.”
Obviously ruffled by his line of questioning, he watched her fan a hand in front of her face.
“Too hot for you?”
“A little.”
“Shouldn’t be. The air-conditioning is working just fine. The whole building was serviced only last week.”
She nervously cleared her throat again. “It’s probably just the remnants of my migraine.”
“Is that so?” This had gone on long enough, and he wanted to know what the fuck was happening within the financial department of his company. “Let me cut to the chase, honey. As your boss, I ask you a question, and you answer it truthfully. How does that grab you?”
The woman was riddled with anxiety, because this time her delicately manicured fingers massaged her throat with nervy stroking movements.
“What were you doing in this very building at eight o’clock on Friday evening? The very same night you were supposedly tucked up in bed, with the mother of all migraines.”
“I–I–I was in bed.”
More lies.
Anger finally getting the better of him, he leaned forward and smashed his fist down on the mahogany desk hard, causing her beautiful eyes to fly wide open with fear. “Enough. You’ve just lied to me. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can do it again.”
Although her beauty still shone through, the corners of her full, sexy mouth were now noticeably dropped. Her obvious vulnerability only added to her allure. Truth be known, seeing her this way turned him on.
“Don’t you think we have security cameras here at Buchanan Enterprises, Ms. Van Heusen?” He deliberately used her formal name, leaving her in no doubt how serious the situation had become. “My head of security has enhanced images of you on his CCTV system.”
She tried to force a smile, but it didn’t convince him one little bit. “Oh, that, yes, yes I’m sorry. I forgot to mention that I suddenly felt better and decided to come into the office and finish off some accounts that needed my attention.”
He looked skyward and spread his hands wide as though searching for divine inspiration. “So, the migraine miraculously disappeared then?”
“Yes, sir, I know it sounds unbelievable but—”
He banged his fist on the desk again. “It sounds unbelievable because it is.”
With the gravity of the situation finally getting to her, she lowered her head and steepled her hands over her nose and mouth, and he saw she was starting to hyperventilate. “I don’t want to say anymore, Mr. Buchanan. I can’t.”