Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed(4)

As she took a sip of her coffee, he noticed her fingernails were immaculately manicured and painted in a shade of red he found particularly arousing. Oh yes, the more he saw of his new financial controller, the more he liked. Even though he was in charge of a business meeting with three other senior male employees sitting around the table, he felt his cock harden when his gaze connected properly with hers for the first time. Her eyes were large and attentive, and as they sexily flickered shut before opening again, he could only describe their color as a delicate china blue.

Aware that his thoughts had become sexual and had nothing to do with the business in hand, Mac reluctantly put the image of her silken body writhing naked beneath him from his mind, and instead, focused his attention on the here and now.

Rapping the silver spoon against his coffee cup, he enjoyed the way all four employees stiffened in their seats. “Right then, let’s get this show on the road.” In his opinion, it never did any harm to let his minions know that not one amongst them was indispensable. He figured that just the thought of losing their jobs during this period of financial recession kept them in line.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as you will be aware we have a fresh face with us today. Kendall Van Heusen is our new financial controller.” Knowing everything that went on his business, Mac folded his arms across his chest and paused for what seemed an unfeasibly long time, searching each individual face in turn, before speaking again. He saw it in their eyes, not one of them had a fucking clue that the boardroom was bugged for sound, and he’d heard everything that had been said from the comfort of his office two floors up. While he didn’t give a fuck whether his employees liked him or not, he thought their treatment of his new financial controller to be shabby and disrespectful, although he wouldn’t let on for now. “Kendall comes highly recommended, and I have no doubt she will give the company the biggest bang for its buck that’s possible in these recession-hit times.” He nodded and gestured in her direction. “Welcome to Buchanan Enterprises, Kendall.”

She blushed slightly with the attention being focused solely on her. “Thank you, Mr. Buchanan, and thank you for giving me the opportunity.”

“You’re welcome. Say, how long have you been here now, honey? Three weeks isn’t it?”

“It will be a month tomorrow, sir.”

“Uh-huh. That’s good. And your team, you’re happy with their performance?”

“Yes, Mr. Buchanan. Louise informed me it would be fine for me to choose my own.”

“That’s correct. Those were the instructions I gave her.” He scanned the boardroom table. Already having all the answers, he probed, “Have these guys introduced themselves to you?”

“Not exactly, sir.”

“I see.” The exchange between Mark Springer in particular and Kendall was testament to that, and he’d recorded it for future reference. Knowledge is power. The guys he employed were a bunch of hardheaded, hard-drinking individuals who didn’t give a fuck about anyone but themselves, and the simple fact that he’d put a mere girl in such an important position had obviously ruffled their feathers.

Fuck them. I make the rules here.

“Well, for the record, honey, the guy on your right is Mark Springer. He’s the editor of the New York Standard. On your left is Steve Johnson, editor of the Los Angeles Echo, and sitting opposite you is Dave Watson, editor of the Philadelphia Bugle. Total circulation some twenty-five million copies.” He heard a little female cough, and he couldn’t help but smile slightly. “And of course, Marcy Cooper, my personnel assistant who you’ve already met.”

“Welcome to the mad house, honey.”

Mac wagged a finger. “Marcy, behave.

“Sorry, Mr. Buchanan, sir. Just trying to make the lady feel at home.”

Mark Springer clearly wasn’t enjoying his time in the boardroom. If a heavyweight title contender had punched him full in the face, he wouldn’t look more pissed than he did right this moment. In the three years since he’d hired him as the editor of his best-selling newspaper, he’d improved the circulation by some twenty-five percent, but in the last six months the sales had slumped badly, and he wanted to know why.

“Mark?”

“Yes, Mr. Buchanan.”

“Circulation is down again…” Although he didn’t need to, Mac flicked through the notes in front of him for effect, already understanding the situation perfectly. “By more than two point eight million in the last six months. This is unacceptable.

“Reason?”

Truth be known, he never had taken to Mark Springer. So it wasn’t an arduous task to put the guy on the spot and watch him squirm, especially after what he’d heard from the hidden microphones secreted around the boardroom.