Don't Tempt The Boss

CHAPTER TWO

LENA.

“Your meeting with Mr Vale was at seven p.m. sharp.” The blonde woman behind the desk drawled, popping the gum in her mouth. It was the same pink as her lipstick. She pointed to the wall clock. “This is nine.”

Apparently, no one at Vale Biotech worked during the day.

“I’m sorry, I really did try to make it on time, but my—”

What was I even going to say? That my asshole of an uncle had woken up in a fit and decided to make my entire day a living hell, refusing to let me leave until I’d dropped what was left of my cash for him.

He’d said it was for dinner, but we both knew he was going to go get drunk.

I swallowed down my words; the woman didn’t even look like she was interested in any excuse I had to give. “Is there anything I can do? I really need to get to this interview.”

She levelled me with a stare, but dragged her gaze down to the monitor in front of her. She clacked a couple of keys. “Lucky for you, Mr Vale has just had a cancelled ten o’clock. Take the elevator up to the 68th floor. You’ll know when you get there.”

I did as she said and took the elevator. It was dimly lit, and had no mirrors, which I found very strange. But I chalked it up, because so far, everything I’d seen of this company was quite strange.

The elevator doors dinged open on the 68th floor, into a dark reception area with only one door at the far end. It was unguarded and simply read, Sébastien Vale, CEO.

There was an automated lock on the door asking for my thumb, and when I slid my finger into the slot, a needle pricked me. I hissed as my blood dripped into the capsule. A moment later, it flashed green, and the door clicked open.

Sébastien Vale’s office was spread out before me.

Plush, rich and reeking of money.

I stepped inside, only to stop short when I realized the room was empty. I stepped in gingerly, taking note of the lack of mirrors in this room as well. The only reflective surface was the floor to ceiling window at the side.

I smoothed down my hair self-consciously, unable to tell if the bruise on my face from last night was still covered by the foundation I’d applied.

I stepped forward, my footfalls muted on the carpet, curiosity dragging me to the antique pictures hung on the walls.

Almost a dozen originals, and in the corner, stood one that was covered in a white tarp.

For some reason, I wanted to uncover it and see what lay beneath, but before I could, I felt the air shift behind me, and before I realized what was happening, I was being slammed into a bookshelf hard enough that I lost my breath.

A man stood before me, towering over my 5’5 frame. He had a hand clamped around my wrist, using it to hold me in place. There was something otherworldly beautiful about him, and the sight of him made me immediately breathless.

He looked fifty and thirty at the same time, with harsh grey eyes, and long salt and pepper hair he secured in a bun. His body was a hard, tense line against mine, all hard muscles and defined lines. He smelled like woodsmoke and the cloying sweet scent of blood.

My heart pounded in my chest, hard enough it felt like he could hear it.

His eyes roved over my face, and some of the coldness in his gaze melted into shock.

“Elara?” he whispered, like he’d seen a ghost. His other hand reached up almost reverently, like he wanted to cup my cheek, but he caught himself in time.

I shook my head as my chest rose and fell fast and hard, “No. My name is Lena,” I gasped, “Lena Moreau. I’m here for the internship position.”

The man, Sébastien, his gaze shuttered immediately, returning to that cold mask of indifference. “What are you doing in my office?” he growled, pushing me harder against the bookshelf.

I made a small noise of protest, but refused to be intimidated, “I’m here for the interview, Mr. Vale. I was told to come over tonight.”

Sébastien scoffed, pushing me away and crossing over to his desk, his long legs eating up the space in seconds.

“I told you to come over at seven p.m. But you waltz in here two hours late and expect me to just drop all prior engagements for you?” he met my gaze over the rim of his whiskey glass, “Get out of my office, Miss Moreau.”

I sucked in a breath, and squared my shoulders. I was not leaving this place without a fight, not when this man was my only salvation. “I’m sorry I came late, Mr. Vale. There were circumstances beyond my control, but I swear to you, that if you just give me this one chance to prove myself, you won’t regret it.”

Sébastien c****d a perfectly shaped brow. It seemed like he was mocking me. “I value punctuality among all else in my employees, Miss Moreau, and if you cannot keep to that simple rule, then I don’t believe you are a good fit for this company.”

“Please,” I resorted to begging as I stepped closer, “I need this internship. Look, Professor Hale recommended me,” I began rustling in my bag for the letter I’d been given, “He says you’ll value his word more than mine.”

I handed it out to him, and he stared me down like I was holding out vomit.

“Please,”

He rolled his eyes, but plucked the letter out of my hand. He ran his gaze over it uninterestedly, one brow c*****g up as he read. Once he was done, he crumpled it into a ball and tossed it at me.

We both watched as it bounced off my chest.

“I’m going to be very blunt with you, Miss Moreau.” he drawled, stepping closer. “I don’t want you here.” His eyes dragged over my frame, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “Something about your face…pisses me off. But, for the sake of my old friend, Hale, I will compromise.”

He buried his hands in his pockets, the movements causing his crisp white shirt to stretch across his broad chest, making my throat run suddenly dry.

I cleared my throat and averted my gaze, forcing myself to listen to what he was saying.

“My previous personal assistant as just left under…unfortunate circumstances, and I’m in need of a new one.” He leaned down to make sure we were eye to eye; his scent washed over me. “If you can survive being my personal assistant for the next three months, then the internship position is all yours.”

There was a wicked gleam in his eyes.

He thought he was scaring me away, but he had no clue I was more stubborn than he could ever imagine. I would do anything to save my brother.

Anything.

I met his gaze with a harsh nod.

“Deal.”