Tempting the Untouchable

CH 2 The Approach

The next morning, the city felt different.

Or maybe it was just me.

Sunlight filtered through my apartment blinds, slicing the room into gold and shadow. I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Damien Hart’s face — the way his gaze had pinned me in place, the faint curve of his mouth like he knew something I didn’t.

I pushed the memory away as I made coffee, the bitter scent filling the air. Today was supposed to be about work, not about a man who could ruin my focus with one glance.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

Meet me at Le Rivage. Noon.

No name. No explanation. But I didn’t need either. Only one man would send a message like that and expect me to show up without question.

I almost laughed. He really thinks I’ll run when he calls.

Still, by eleven-thirty, I found myself standing outside Le Rivage — an upscale restaurant with a view of the skyline, the kind of place where every glass sparkled and every laugh was measured.

The host led me to a corner table. Damien was already there, suit jacket draped over the chair, shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to make him look infuriatingly effortless.

“Elara Cruz,” he greeted, his voice smooth as aged whiskey. “You’re punctual.”

“I had nothing better to do,” I said lightly, sliding into the seat opposite him.

His lips twitched, like he knew I was lying. “Coffee?”

“I make my own,” I replied.

“Of course you do.” He leaned back, studying me. “You cost me last night.”

I raised a brow. “You won.”

“Not the pendant,” he said, his gaze locking on mine. “You cost me the comfort of knowing no one dares to challenge me in public.”

I sipped my water, refusing to look away. “Maybe you needed the reminder.”

For a moment, there was silence — the kind that felt like a held breath. Then he smiled, slow and deliberate. “You’re not afraid of me.”

“I don’t have time to be afraid,” I said.

His eyes darkened, not with anger, but with interest. “Good. I need someone like that.”

I frowned. “Need?”

He slid a small black folder across the table. Inside was a contract. I skimmed the first few lines, my pulse spiking.

He wanted me to design an exclusive clothing line for one of his private ventures — a project worth more money than I’d ever seen in my life. The terms were generous, almost too generous.

“What’s the catch?” I asked.

“You work under me,” he said simply.

I met his gaze. “And if I say no?”

His smile returned, sharper this time. “Then you’ll keep wondering what it’s like to tempt the untouchable… and you’ll never find out.”

The challenge in his voice made my blood heat. I should have walked away. But instead, I found myself saying the one word I knew would change everything.

“Yes.”