Falling For The Cold CEO

CHAPTER THREE:THE FLIGHT TO EDINBURGH

At exactly 5:42 a.m., Amelia Hart stood outside Blackwood Enterprises with a small suitcase beside her.

She was tired.

Cold.

And questioning every decision that had led her to this moment.

She checked her phone.

5:43 a.m.

Alexander Blackwood had specifically told her to be ready at six.

Amelia had arrived early because she knew what happened to people who made Alexander wait.

They suffered.

Usually publicly.

She glanced down at her outfit.

A cream blouse.

Black trousers.

A long dark coat.

Simple, professional and warm enough for Edinburgh.

She had barely finished checking her appearance when a black Mercedes pulled up.

The rear door opened.

Alexander stepped out.

Amelia's stomach did something incredibly stupid.

She immediately ignored it.

Of course he looked perfect.

Even at five forty-five in the morning.

His dark coat was buttoned neatly, his hair slightly tousled, and his expression suggested that the entire world had personally offended him.

His eyes landed on Amelia.

Then her suitcase.

Then back at her.

"You're late."

Amelia stared at him.

She looked at her phone.

"It's 5:45."

"I said six."

"Exactly."

Alexander's jaw tightened.

"Then why aren't you inside the car?"

Amelia looked at him.

"Good morning to you too."

His eyes narrowed.

"Get in."

She smiled sweetly.

"Good morning, Mr Blackwood."

He stared at her.

Amelia opened the car door.

"That's better."

"Don't push your luck."

She climbed inside.

Alexander followed.

The door closed.

The driver pulled away.

Amelia sat as far away from Alexander as possible.

She looked through the window.

London was still waking up.

Streetlights reflected against wet roads, and only a few people moved along the pavements.

For several minutes, neither spoke.

Then Alexander said,

"Your phone."

Amelia looked at him.

"What about it?"

"Turn it off."

She frowned.

"Why?"

"Because we're travelling for business."

"I'm aware."

"Then don't argue."

"I'm not arguing."

"You are."

"I'm asking a question."

Alexander looked out the window.

"Turn it off."

Amelia sighed.

She put her phone on silent instead.

Alexander glanced at it.

"Off."

She looked at him.

"No."

His head slowly turned.

Amelia immediately regretted her courage.

"Excuse me?"

"I need my phone."

"You'll have it when we arrive."

"What if someone calls me?"

"They can wait."

"What if it's an emergency?"

Alexander's expression remained emotionless.

"Then someone else will deal with it."

Amelia stared at him.

"You really don't understand normal people, do you?"

His eyebrow rose.

"What does that mean?"

"It means some of us have families and friends who might actually want to reach us."

Alexander looked at her for several seconds.

Then he said,

"Fine."

Amelia blinked.

"Fine?"

"Keep it."

She smiled.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She looked back out the window.

That had been surprisingly easy.

Until Alexander spoke again.

"Your sarcasm is irritating."

Her smile disappeared.

"And your personality is exhausting."

Silence.

The driver suddenly coughed.

Amelia covered her mouth.

Alexander stared at her.

She stared back.

Then, to her surprise, the corner of his mouth moved.

Barely.

Amelia's eyes widened.

Was that a smile?

No.

Impossible.

Alexander Blackwood didn't smile.

She turned away before he could notice her watching.

---

They arrived at the airport shortly after six-thirty.

Amelia had expected a normal commercial flight.

Instead, Alexander led her towards a private terminal.

She stopped.

"Where are we going?"

"To the plane."

She stared at him.

"What plane?"

Alexander continued walking.

"Mine."

Amelia hurried after him.

"You have a plane?"

He looked at her.

"Yes."

"Of course you do."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

They entered the private terminal.

Everything was quiet and polished.

Amelia suddenly felt underdressed despite knowing she looked perfectly professional.

Alexander noticed her hesitation.

"Problem?"

"No."

"Then keep moving."

She followed him.

A few minutes later, they boarded the private jet.

Amelia stopped at the entrance.

Her eyes widened.

The interior was luxurious without being excessively decorated.

Soft leather seats.

A small conference area.

A polished table.

And enough space to make her apartment look embarrassingly small.

Alexander walked past her.

"Sit."

Amelia turned.

"Do you know any other word?"

"Yes."

"Such as?"

"Leave."

She stared at him.

"You're unbelievable."

"I've been told."

She sat.

Alexander took the seat opposite her.

A flight attendant approached.

"Mr Blackwood."

"Coffee."

"Certainly."

The attendant looked at Amelia.

"Would you like anything, miss?"

"Coffee, please."

Alexander looked at her.

"Black?"

Amelia paused.

He remembered.

"Yes."

The attendant left.

Amelia stared at Alexander.

"What?"

"You remembered how I take my coffee."

His expression didn't change.

"I remember everything concerning my employees."

"That sounds slightly threatening."

"It wasn't intended to."

"That makes it worse."

Alexander opened a folder.

Amelia smiled faintly.

She had never met anyone who could turn a simple conversation into an argument.

The plane began preparing for takeoff.

Amelia looked out the window.

She loved travelling.

Even though she didn't get to do it often.

As the plane lifted into the sky, she watched London disappear beneath the clouds.

Then she felt something beside her.

A folder.

Alexander had placed it on the table.

"Read that."

Amelia picked it up.

The document contained information about the company they were visiting.

Whitmore Holdings.

Amelia read through the details.

The company had been founded decades ago.

It was privately owned.

And recently, its founder had died.

She turned the page.

Then stopped.

There was a photograph.

A man.

An older woman.

And a young man standing beside them.

Amelia looked at Alexander.

He was staring through the window.

His expression had become unreadable.

She looked back at the photograph.

"Is this the family?"

"Yes."

"Who is the young man?"

Alexander's eyes shifted towards her.

"His son."

"What's his name?"

"Julian Whitmore."

Amelia nodded.

She continued reading.

Something felt strange.

Alexander had been unusually tense since yesterday.

And now, seeing this family seemed to make it worse.

She hesitated.

Then asked,

"Did you know him?"

Alexander's eyes immediately hardened.

"Read the report."

That was clearly the end of the conversation.

Amelia lowered her gaze.

"Okay."

She continued reading.

But her mind was elsewhere.

---

Three hours later, the plane landed in Edinburgh.

The weather was colder than London.

Amelia stepped outside and immediately wrapped her coat tighter around herself.

"Cold?"

She turned.

Alexander was standing beside her.

"No."

He looked at her.

Amelia shivered.

His expression changed slightly.

"You're freezing."

"I'm fine."

"You're shaking."

"I'm still fine."

Alexander removed his coat.

Amelia's eyes widened.

"What are you doing?"

"Take it."

"No."

"Amelia."

She froze.

Again.

Her name.

His voice.

Why did two syllables from this man affect her so much?

"I'm not taking your coat."

"Why?"

"Because you'll be cold."

"I have another one."

He pointed towards the car.

"Take it."

Amelia looked at him.

He was clearly irritated.

But beneath the irritation was something else.

Concern.

She slowly accepted the coat.

"Thank you."

Alexander nodded.

She put it on.

It was far too large.

The sleeves covered part of her hands.

It smelled like his cologne.

Amelia immediately regretted putting it on.

She could feel her cheeks warming.

Hopefully the cold weather would disguise it.

Alexander looked at her.

"Why are you red?"

"I'm not."

"You are."

"It's cold."

"That's not why."

Amelia turned away.

"Can we go?"

Alexander watched her for another second.

Then he nodded.

---

The hotel was impressive.

Amelia had expected separate rooms.

They were given separate rooms.

Thankfully.

She didn't trust herself to spend a night in the same room as Alexander and remain completely normal.

They had a meeting scheduled for the next morning.

Alexander spent most of the afternoon in his room working.

Amelia used the time to organise the documents.

At around seven in the evening, she received a message.

Alexander: Dinner. 8 p.m.

Amelia stared at the message.

She typed:

Amelia: Is this a business dinner?

Three dots appeared.

Disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Alexander: Does it matter?

Amelia frowned.

She typed:

Amelia: Yes.

His reply came almost immediately.

Alexander: Then yes.

She stared at the screen.

"That man..."

She dropped the phone onto the bed.

At 7:50, she left her room.

Alexander was waiting downstairs.

He looked at her.

His gaze moved briefly over her outfit.

Amelia had changed into a simple dark green dress and a black coat.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing inappropriate.

Still, his eyes lingered for a second longer than necessary.

Then he looked away.

"You're late."

Amelia checked her phone.

"Ten minutes early."

"Seven minutes."

"What?"

"You're seven minutes early."

"Then how am I late?"

Alexander started walking.

Amelia followed.

"I don't understand you."

"You don't have to."

They entered the restaurant.

It was quiet and elegant.

Alexander was greeted immediately.

"Mr Blackwood."

He nodded.

They were shown to a private table.

Amelia sat opposite him.

For a few minutes, they discussed business.

Then food arrived.

Amelia noticed Alexander barely touched his.

"You should eat."

He looked up.

"What?"

"Your food."

"I know what food is."

"Then eat it."

His eyes narrowed.

"Are you giving me orders?"

"No."

"It sounded like it."

"I'm just saying you haven't eaten all day."

Alexander's expression changed.

"How would you know?"

Amelia froze.

She had been his assistant for eight months.

She knew his schedule.

She knew he had skipped lunch.

But the question sounded strangely personal.

"I organise your schedule."

"That doesn't mean you watch me."

Amelia lowered her eyes.

"I don't."

"Good."

Something about his response irritated her.

"Why do you always do that?"

Alexander's brows drew together.

"Do what?"

"Push people away."

He went still.

Amelia realised immediately that she'd crossed another line.

"I shouldn't have said that."

"No."

Alexander leaned back.

"You shouldn't have."

Amelia looked at him.

His expression was cold again.

"I apologise."

Alexander looked towards the window.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then his voice came quietly.

"People leave."

Amelia frowned.

"What?"

His eyes remained on the street outside.

"They always do."

She didn't know what to say.

Alexander looked back at her.

"That's why it's easier not to let them get close."

Something tightened inside Amelia's chest.

For the first time, she didn't see the billionaire CEO.

She saw a lonely man.

A man who had apparently learned to build walls so high that nobody could reach him.

She wanted to ask why.

She wanted to tell him that not everyone leaves.

She wanted to tell him that she—

No.

She stopped herself.

Her feelings were not his responsibility.

And she wasn't going to confess them.

Alexander picked up his glass.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you feel sorry for me."

"I don't."

"Good."

Amelia looked down.

"I don't feel sorry for you."

Alexander watched her.

"I just think you're not as horrible as you pretend to be."

His expression went completely blank.

Amelia's heart stopped.

Then, unexpectedly, Alexander laughed.

A real laugh this time.

Quiet.

Brief.

But unmistakable.

Amelia stared.

Alexander noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Stop staring."

"You're laughing."

"So?"

"I didn't know you could."

His smile disappeared.

"Forget it."

Amelia couldn't stop her own smile.

"Too late."

Alexander shook his head.

For the first time since Amelia had met him, the evening didn't feel like she was sitting across from her terrifying boss.

It felt almost normal.

Almost.

Until Alexander's phone rang.

He answered.

His expression changed immediately.

"Where?"

Amelia watched his face.

"How long?"

A pause.

Then his eyes lifted.

They met hers.

Something in them made Amelia's smile disappear.

Alexander stood.

"We're leaving."

Amelia frowned.

"Now?"

"Now."

"What happened?"

Alexander grabbed his coat.

"The Whitmores know we're here."

Amelia stood.

"Okay..."

He looked at her.

"And Julian Whitmore wants to meet you."

Amelia froze.

"Me?"

Alexander's expression was unreadable.

"Apparently."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

He moved towards the exit.

Amelia followed.

But as they stepped outside, Alexander stopped.

He looked at her.

His voice was low.

"Whatever Julian tells you tomorrow..."

He paused.

"Don't believe him."

Amelia stared at him.

"Why?"

Alexander looked towards the dark Edinburgh street.

"Because he hates me."

Then he walked away.

Amelia remained standing there.

And suddenly, the mysterious letter made sense.

Or at least, she thought it did.

Because whatever had happened between Alexander Blackwood and Julian Whitmore...

It was clearly personal.

And tomorrow, she was going to be caught directly in the middle of it.

Zeenat Dauda