TAMING MR BLACKWELL

WORKING FOR ADRIAN BLACKWELL WAS ONE HELL OF A JOB.

(Ivy’s POV)

I looked away immediately.

The doors slid open with a soft chime. Our rooms were at the end of the hallway.

“This way,” Adrian said, walking ahead. I followed, my heels clicking against the plush carpet.

When we reached my door, I hesitated. “Goodnight, Mr. Blackwell.”

He gave a slight nod. “Get some rest, Miss Carter. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

And with that, he disappeared into his room. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

I tossed my bag onto the bed and kicked off my heels.

The room was beautiful....too beautiful. It had soft lighting, a massive window overlooking the city, and a bed so big I could roll over twice without reaching the edge.

But I couldn’t enjoy it. Because my mind was still stuck on the flight.

On him.

I ran a hand down my face. I was being ridiculous. He probably hadn’t even thought about it again. To him, it was nothing. A moment of convenience, not kindness. I shouldn’t let it get to me.

I forced myself to freshen up, change into my pajamas, and slip under the covers. But even as I closed my eyes, sleep didn’t come easily.

Because for the first time since I started working for Adrian Blackwood… I felt like I had seen something more.

And I wasn’t sure what that meant.

...............

(Adrian’s POV)

I hadn’t meant to touch her.

It had been instinct...something automatic. One moment, she was gasping for air, fingers digging into the armrest like she was about to fall out of the sky, and the next… I was reaching for her.

I should have stopped myself. Should have kept my hands to myself like I always did. But her panic had been so raw, so unfiltered, that it caught me off guard.

And for a brief moment, I forgot who I was supposed to be.

The second her breathing steadied, I pulled away, burying myself in work as if the moment never happened. But it did.

And now, hours later, lying in the dimly lit hotel room, I could still feel the warmth of her skin against mine.

I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over my face.

This was a problem.

I had spent years perfecting control....over my time, my emotions, my life. Nothing rattled me. Nothing made me pause.

Yet here I was, in a five-star hotel suite, thinking about my damn assistant.

Unacceptable.

I turned onto my side, glaring at the city lights filtering through the window. Ivy Carter was nothing more than my employee. A persistent, sometimes clumsy, but efficient worker who had lasted a little longer than few others.

That was all.

So why couldn’t I stop replaying the way she had looked at me when she opened her eyes?

Wide. Surprised. As if I was the last person she expected to comfort her. Maybe because I was.

I never did things like that. I didn’t reach out. I didn’t soothe. That was a line I never crossed, a rule I had lived by for years.

Yet, for her, I had broken it.

I scowled at the ceiling.

This trip was already proving to be more disruptive than I anticipated. Tomorrow, I would reset things. Keep my distance.

Because no matter how warm her hand had felt in mine…

I was not going to let Ivy Carter become a distraction.

................

(Ivy’s POV)

The next morning, Adrian didn’t look at me when I approached.

He sat at the head of the long dining table in the hotel’s private lounge, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, his attention fixed on his tablet. His posture was as composed as ever, his expression unreadable.

It was as if last night never happened. And maybe, to him, it didn’t.

I had spent the night tossing and turning, my mind replaying the moment he placed his hand over mine. The warmth, the quiet reassurance.....it had been unexpected, but brief. Too brief.

Now, in the cold light of morning, it was clear he had already moved past it. I squared my shoulders and cleared my throat. “Good morning, sir.”

He didn’t glance up. “My schedule?” was all he said. Straight to business. No acknowledgment. Nothing.

I pushed away whatever lingering thoughts I had and flipped open my notepad. This was just work. “You have a meeting at nine, followed by a networking lunch at noon. The panels start at two, and your keynote speech is at five.”

He nodded once, taking a sip of coffee. “Confirm that the car will be ready by eight-thirty. I don’t want delays.”

“I already did.” His eyes lifted, meeting mine briefly before he nodded again and returned to his tablet.

Dismissed.

I turned on my heel and left, ignoring the tight feeling in my chest.

Maybe I had overthought everything last night. Maybe it had been nothing more than a reflex...a brief, meaningless moment of comfort. Nothing more.

..........

The day was exhausting. Adrian’s schedule was packed, which meant mine was even worse. Meetings, calls, last-minute adjustments..... every hour was a blur of motion. I barely had time to breathe, let alone eat.

Adrian, as always, was precise and direct. He moved through each meeting with sharp efficiency, his words carrying weight in every room he entered. I followed, keeping everything organized, fixing problems before they reached him.

There was no room for mistakes. And I didn’t make any.

By mid-afternoon, I stood near the back of the conference room, watching as Adrian spoke on a panel. His voice was calm, confident....completely at ease in front of an audience.

I scribbled down notes, keeping track of key points and follow-ups. At one point, he glanced in my direction. A brief, fleeting look. Then he looked away, as if I wasn’t even there.

And I told myself it didn’t bother me.

By the time his keynote speech ended, exhaustion pressed heavily on my shoulders.

The applause was deafening as Adrian stepped off the stage, shaking hands with executives and board members. I stayed on the sidelines, checking my notes for tomorrow’s agenda.

When he finally approached, his expression was unreadable. “Did you confirm the dinner reservations?”

“Yes. Eight-thirty at the private venue.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Be ready by eight.”

I blinked. “Me?”

He looked at me like I was slow. “You’re my assistant. You’ll be there.”

I swallowed the immediate protest that rose to my lips. Of course. Another long night. Another event where I had to make sure everything ran smoothly.

“Understood,” I said, keeping my tone professional.

He didn’t say anything else. Just gave me a final glance before walking away, already pulling out his phone.

And once again, I was reminded exactly where I stood. Working for Adrian Blackwell was one hell of a job.