JONATHAN
Who is that?
From the moment Chase says her name, my gaze locks onto her and refuses to let go. Elizabeth Morgan. I’ve heard it in passing, a whisper among assistants, but I never bothered to attach it to a face. Now I wish I had.
That face. That mouth. Those eyes like ice cut from fire. How the hell did I walk past this woman for a year and not notice her?
I pride myself on awareness, on control, on never missing a detail. And yet here she is, standing in the middle of my conference room like some secret the universe has been holding back just to see if I’d flinch.
I do more than flinch. Something tightens in my chest, sharp and unfamiliar.
Lust, yes; but threaded with something deeper and bordering on an aching tenderness. She looks at me and for one dangerous second I forget my own rules.
My body knows her already. Heat coils low, feral, like a wolf stirring after a long sleep.
It’s been years since a woman has managed to stir anything in me beyond passing interest. Too many nameless nights, too many bodies that blurred together.
She is not nameless. She will never be.
I draw in a breath, steady, but the air tastes different now that she’s in the room. She doesn’t even realize she’s carrying the spark that could set fire to every wall I’ve built around myself.
Chase recommended her, so I know she must be competent. Still, part of me resists, wonders if she’s just another young woman chasing a paycheck. But my instincts—the same instincts that have made me a predator in business—tell me she’s more.
A challenge. A temptation. A risk.
And God help me, I want to take it.
Most days, I prefer silence to company. Silence doesn’t make mistakes. It doesn’t drop figures or forget the weight behind a signature. Assistants rarely last with me. The pace, the precision, the hours… most fold within weeks. Better to work alone than waste time watching someone unravel.
Her voice rolls over the room, and I swallow the coffee slow. It’s richer, darker somehow. Or maybe that’s just the knowing that every morning, it was Elizabeth putting fire in my cup.
She talks about front desk work, errands, the grind that keeps the office machine turning. Her voice is clear, her answers short and to the point.
Not over-rehearsed. Not scrambling.
She speaks like a woman used to being overlooked, but unwilling to be sloppy in the meantime.
And I can’t shake it. How has no one noticed her? Was it deliberate blindness? Laziness? Or worse, did everyone assume this is all she could do?
The thought irritates me. Not at her—at myself. At my staff. At the fact that I walked past her desk for a year and never saw her. “Why haven’t you been pulled into a higher role yet?” The words are out before I can stop them. My tone is threaded with annoyance, but I don’t retract. I need her answer.
My reputation and livelihood could be on the line if she pulls a fast one and tanks me.
Her eyes light up as I speak to her directly, almost as if she wasn’t expecting me to be interested.
“Oh,” she says in a low tone, and her eyes lock onto mine again, causing my body to shift again. “I don’t have an answer to that. Maybe one of your colleagues can better answer it for you.”
Her answer lands with such quiet confidence that the room actually stirs. A couple of the men glance at me, smirking like they’ve just witnessed a magician pull a rabbit out of my starched collar.
I can’t help it—my mouth curves into a smile I can’t quite wrestle back down.
“Well, gentlemen?” I drawl, letting my gaze circle the table. “Any of you care to explain how this woman has been hiding in plain sight?”
Chase clears his throat, already grinning. “Sir, I’d say we were a little… distracted.” His chuckle is quick and irreverent. “Let’shope today fixes that.” He takes a sip of coffee to smother his amusement, though his eyes are dancing.
“Mm.” I let the sound rumble, but my smile fades into business. “The job isn’t just fetching files and keeping me caffeinated. You’ll be at my side, handling paperwork, strategy, meetings. A desk right outside my office. It’s relentless, Miss Morgan. Are you prepared for that?”
She doesn’t flinch. Instead, her eyes find mine, and for one charged beat the room falls away. Blue. Fierce, unblinking blue that slices straight through me like she’s seen the man behind the title.
