Seducing the Ice-Cold CEO

Chapter 5

Leah

Before he could change his mind, I climbed into Dante Kerlsen’s car, shutting the door firmly behind me. The leather seats were buttery soft beneath me, and the faint, clean scent of expensive cologne lingered in the air.

It wasn’t a small car by any means—far from it, it was the kind of vehicle that practically screamed power—but even so, I was hyper aware of him sitting barely two feet away from me as he got in. Every movement he made seemed controlled. His sharp profile was lit faintly by the glow of the dashboard, and for one dizzying moment, I almost forgot what I was supposed to be doing.

Get it together, Leah.

I sat up straighter, fishing frantically through my bag. I didn’t have my notes but the questions were already forming fast and clear in my head. I wasn’t going to waste this chance.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice a little breathless despite my best efforts. “For giving me this interview.” He glanced at me, cool and unreadable, and gave a slight nod. I found my phone, set it to record, and cleared my throat. “I’m beginning now. I’ll just ask a few questions.”

“I’m ready whenever you are,” he said simply.

I swallowed and started. “You’ve chosen to maintain a remarkably low profile, despite the level of success you’ve achieved, Mr. Kerlsen. What drives your decision to stay out of the public eye?”

I watched him carefully as he considered his answer, one hand resting loosely on his thigh as he began to drive, his expression thoughtful.

“I don't see the point of unnecessary noise,” he said at last, his voice clipped. “The work speaks for itself. Fame doesn't build companies. People do.” I found myself studying the sharp line of his jaw and the slight furrow between his brows. “And,” he added dryly, “I have no patience for pointless interviews.”

I let out a soft laugh before I could stop myself. “Glad to know I’m not included in that.”

He didn’t smile, but there was a slight glint in his eye, a flicker of amusement that gave me the courage to move on.

I leaned in slightly. “Can you share a pivotal moment in your career that shaped your approach to business?” He was quiet for a beat longer this time. When he spoke, his tone was a shade rougher, as if the memory wasn’t entirely pleasant. “I was twenty-one,” he said. “Fresh out of university. I thought I could fix everything faster and better than anyone else. I made a decision by trusting the wrong partner. It didn’t take long to lose everything I had scraped together.”

I drew in a breath. “What happened?” I asked.

“I learned that contracts and handshakes mean nothing without leverage,” he said flatly. “And that trust should be earned, not given.”

“And what about your personal values?” I pressed. “What guides your decisions, professionally and personally?”

This time, there was the faintest hint of a wry, almost self-deprecating smile. “I don’t separate the two,” he said. “Loyalty, discipline, and results. Everything else is negotiable.”

God, he was intense. I could practically feel the force of his convictions radiating off him. Wanting to lighten the mood, I let a playful note creep into my voice. “Alright, Mr. Kerlsen. Let’s say you hadn’t become a wildly successful businessman. What would you be doing right now? Something lawful? Or…”

I paused and let my lips curve up slyly, letting the unspoken implication dangle in the air. Something illegal? my expression seemed to suggest. To my delight, Dante’s brow arched, and for the first time, something dangerously close to a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“If I told you,” he said, voice dry as a desert, “you might have to write a very different kind of article.”

I laughed, genuinely this time, the tension between us softening slightly. To my surprise, the conversation between us started to flow more easily as the car glided through the city. Dante wasn’t the open, laughing type by any means, but he had this dry, almost wicked sense of humor that made it weirdly easy to talk to him once you found the right rhythm.

I couldn’t remember the last time an interview had felt like this; less like pulling teeth and more like… well, like a conversation with someone fascinating you didn’t quite know how to handle. Still, a tiny voice in the back of my head reminded me that I hadn’t forgotten my bigger goal. I had bigger things to worry about than just filing a decent article.

I shifted slightly in my seat, pretending to glance at the traffic, and asked in the most casual voice I could muster, “With a schedule as packed as yours, is it hard to balance your personal life? I imagine Mrs. Kerlsen must need a lot of patience.”

I was proud of how smoothly the question rolled off my tongue. No awkward pauses or obvious fishing. Just harmless, professional curiosity... on the surface.

Dante’s lips curved barely but it was enough to make my stomach somersault. “There’s no Mrs. Kerlsen,” he said smoothly.

Oh. I c****d my head, the gears in my mind spinning faster now. “No Mrs. Kerlsen yet, huh?” I teased lightly. “Maybe a future Mrs. Kerlsen?”

Dante turned his head slightly to look at me, his eyes cool but sharp, like he was seeing right through every innocent little word I’d strung together.

“If what you’re trying to ask,” he said, voice bone-dry, “is whether I’m single, you could have just asked.”

I let out a soft, almost guilty laugh, raising my hands in mock surrender. “That wasn’t what I was aiming for at all,” I lied shamelessly, flashing him an easy smile. “But since you put it on the table… are you?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’m not in a relationship right now.”

There was something in the casual way he said it that made my heart kick against my ribs. I gave a little nod, trying to act like that was just a passing detail in a professional conversation. My fingers flew to my phone, pretending to check if it was still recording, when really, I had discreetly turned it off after my last official question.

No, I’d heard what I wanted to hear. No matter what would happen when I went after Dante, there would be no accidental homewrecking. I would do it knowing he was free game. Unlike a certain cheating ex of mine.

I slipped the phone back into my bag, just as Dante pulled the car smoothly onto a quieter road. It was then that I realized we were no longer anywhere near the bustling city center.

I glanced out the window as the car came to a stop. Buildings had thinned out. There were no bustling sidewalks, no easy cabs waiting to be flagged down. Where the hell was I going to find a ride back from here? I bit my lip, pretending to fiddle with the strap of my bag while my mind raced. The thought bubbled up before I could stop it: maybe I didn’t have to get a ride back just yet. I could stretch this a little longer.

Dante’s meeting couldn’t last forever. And if I tagged along and smiled just right... maybe he would offer me a ride back. Maybe we could pick up where this easy conversation had left off. Or, I could turn it into something more. The thought sent a small wicked thrill through me.

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I turned toward him.

“So,” I said lightly, “where are we heading?”

Dante shot me an unreadable sidelong glance. “We?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t exactly walk back, and I haven’t seen a taxi in more than five minutes.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with me, then caught himself just in time. “If you’re planning on following me,” he said, deadpan, “I hope you’re not squeamish about waiting.”

I grinned. “I’m very patient.”