Weekend with the Tycoon Read Online Free Page B

that caused Mr. Putnam’s door to swing open. Samantha glanced at her new Platinum Cartier watch: precisely three o’clock.
    “Are you coming too?” Samantha asked.
    “No dear. Remember, this is your time to shine. You have everything you need,” Marlene said.
    Samantha smiled at Marlene and noticed a slight smile back before she walked back into the sterile whiteness of Mr. Putnam’s office. The door closed behind her. But, she was alone in the large office. He was nowhere to be seen. Could Marlene have made an error? Samantha checked her watch and sighed with relief. She was on time. And suddenly, there he was, appearing as if by magic from a concealed door on the opposite wall.
    Samantha felt her mouth completely dry up. Quite a feat after all the champagne she’d downed as well as the water and coffee hoping to sober her up to handle any meetings this afternoon. He glanced at his watch.
    “Good. Right on time,” he said. “I like that outfit. Nice choice.”
    “Um, thanks,” Samantha said, unsure of the correct answer in such a situation. There had been no ‘choice’ about any of it. He’d approved all of the outfits before Raymond could even show them to her.
    Control freak.
    “Ready?” he asked.
    “Yes, sir,” she said.
    “Samantha, since we are spending the weekend together, it would be appropriate for you to call me Blake.”
    She stared into his blue eyes. He was gorgeous. Really gorgeous. She felt dizzy. She was drowning in blue.
    “That is what business associates do,” he said.
    “Of course, Blake,” she said feeling bold and far older than twenty three.
    They were business associates.
    “Come,” he said, opening the door he’d just emerged from and she followed him out the door.
    Blinding sunlight. They were outside. The top of the Blake Genetics building. It was terrifying and unexpected, and Samantha fumbled around in her new purse, trying to find her new sunglasses as she hurried to keep up with Blake, who had just turned a corner in front of her. She broke out in cold sweat and could barely catch her breath. Samantha’s fear of heights was well known – why wasn’t that in his precious file on her? What was he trying to do? Kill her after dressing her like she was a cover model for Town and Country ?
    Trying not to look at the horizon and only the glare off the ground under her feet, Samantha rounded the corner. She heard the whoosh of something mechanical. She looked up and spotted Blake already climbing into a white helicopter, emblazoned with Blake Genetics on the side.
    Samantha froze against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. They were traveling in a helicopter? A tiny, white tin can with a propeller on top? She didn’t even know the company had a helicopter. No way was she getting in that thing. She’d take a cab. She’d drive herself and meet him there. Her luggage alone wouldn’t allow that hunk of metal to get off the ground.
    “What the hell is wrong with you?”
    She didn’t realize he’d come back for her and could barely hear him over the thump of the rotors.
    “I’m not getting on that thing,” Samantha said. “I can’t.”
    “Yes, you can and you will. We have an agreement.”
    “You said nothing about a helicopter,” she said, her voice jerky with panic. “I’ll drive and meet you there.”
    She braced herself because he looked angry. Not even her father had glared at her like that when she’d backed into a wall when she was sixteen.
    “I have a Prius,” she said shakily and waited for him to fire her or…
    He laughed.
    “A Prius.”
    “Yes,” she said cautiously.
    “Does it float?”
    “What?” She was starting to hyperventilate. She could feel it. Her vision was black around the edges. This had happened on a school trip to New York on the Empire State Building.
    “We’re going to an island.”
    She swallowed hard. Island. It was as if her life flashed in front of her eyes. No chance to show off her knowledge. Her skills. No