Page 10 of Like a Hurricane

“Whatever my father has hired you for.”

“Are you sure you have that authority?”

“Well since whatever it is has something to do with me, then it appears I do.” I snap.

At that, he just grins, “Not everything is about you, princess, but I’ll be sure to let your father know your opinion on the matter.”

“Wait,” I grab his sleeve before he can walk away from me, “You’ve not been hired as a bodyguard or something?”

His glacial eyes drop to where my manicured fingernails are buried into the material of his pristine suit jacket, “I’ve been hired by your father but not for you.”

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?” His eyes flare.

“No.” I snatch my hand back, “It’s just that you keep popping up.”

“Hardly a cause for concern,” He cocks his head.

“What about at the restaurant?” I throw back, “Outside on the sidewalk?”

“That’s a very popular joint to eat, Miss Lauder, I happened to recognize you after meeting you in your father’s office earlier.”

“And today?”

“I have a meeting with your father.”

“Now?” I check the watch on my wrist.

“It’ll only take five minutes.”

I still didn’t trust him. Not even a little bit.

He smelled good though, something inherently masculine. My eyes drop to his hands, noting the rough texture of the callouses on his fingers and how large they were.

“What is it exactly that you do, Mr. Avery?” I flick my eyes back up to his to see him already staring at me, a heat entering the swirling depths of his eyes.

He wasn’t the first man to look at me like that, but I wasn’t ashamed to admit he was the first for me to respond to.

There was something very primal in the way he was looking at me right now, something very dangerous and for whatever reason, I liked it.

He leans in dangerously close, so close I feel the breath from his lips brush against the shell of my ear, “Well if I told you that, little storm, I would have to kill you.”

I suck in a gasp of air, but he just straightens, winks playfully and strolls away, whistling as he goes.

I’m so shocked that it takes me a moment to realize the tune he is whistling is the same as the last song I listened to on my playlist.

Chapter Five

I’m still whistling when I step into Arryn’s fathers’ office and click the door closed. His eyes snap up to mine, “Mr. Avery,” He stands.

“Tomorrow night,” I tell him, “Your job will be complete by tomorrow.”

He swallows nervously, “That’s um, that’s perfect, thank you.”

“I expect the money to be wired within five minutes of you receiving the proof the job is done.”

“Proof?”

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