The Feisty Fiancee. Jessica Steele

needed to see the Addison Kirk logo; he’d probably recognised the car she had been driving. In all probability he had only very recently—perhaps even the day before—been a passenger in it!

      ‘Mr Wakefield?’ she enquired, hoping there was some wonderful mistake and that this man—this man who yesterday, by his swift and skilful reactions, had managed to avoid what would have been an almighty collision—and earned a load of lip from her for his trouble—was not, by some miracle, the head of the Addison Kirk Group.

      He didn’t bother to confirm but, ignoring her completely, instructed his PA, ‘Hold my calls for five minutes, please.’ She had called him a grumpy old devil—it was going to take that long?

      He held his office door open for her to go through. Yancie stood up, uncertain whether or not to walk to the other door, and keep on walking. ‘I’ll attend to you later’, this man had yesterday threatened—he must have pegged her as employed by the company before he’d even said it. ‘Later’, Yancie knew, had just arrived—but she wasn’t the sort to run away.