Hired to seduce him

chapter 2

The distance between us shrank in three long, deliberate strides.

Before I could even process the change in his eyes, Nathaniel was right there. He didn’t ask for permission. He reached for my good arm and pulled me to my feet with a firmness that was surprisingly gentle.

His grip was warm. Much warmer than a man made of ice had any right to be.

"Let me see," he commanded, his voice a low rumble.

I didn't answer. I just let my body lean into his, holding out my left hand. I slowed my breathing, biting my bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

Nathaniel took my wrist. His thumb brushed against my pulse point, and for a second, I forgot to fake the breathlessness. My heart was hammering against my ribs, and he could absolutely feel it.

He looked down at the angry, reddened skin on my wrist. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"It's blistering," he murmured, his eyes lifting to meet mine.

Up close. He smelled of cedarwood and rain, wrapped in the unmistakable scent of money. My stomach did a slow, dangerous flip.

*Oh, no.*

I knew men. I knew how to read them, play them, and discard them. It was always easy because I never felt a thing. But looking at the sharp angle of his jaw, feeling the heat of his skin just inches away from my own, my breath caught in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with my performance. He was overriding my instincts with nothing but his proximity.*Damn.*

He was exactly my type. A massive, catastrophic problem. Because looking at him, I realized that my entire plan was fundamentally flawed. Seducing a man like Nathaniel Cole was easy; the real nightmare was going to be surviving it. Enamoring him while remaining completely bulletproof felt suddenly, terrifyingly impossible."Can you walk?" he asked.

"I... I think so," I whispered, keeping my voice soft. "It just stings."

He didn't let go of my wrist. He guided me toward his private elevator, bypassing the security turnstiles entirely. The few employees in the lobby froze, staring at us. Nathaniel didn't give them a single glance. He swiped his keycard, and the steel doors slid open.

The ride up was dead silent. Every time I shifted, I could feel his eyes on me.

When the doors opened on the executive floor, he led me straight into his office. It was a massive, minimalist space.

Large glass windows showed the entire city skyline, but my focus was on the sleek leather couch in the corner.

"Sit," he said.

I sat.

Nathaniel walked over to a hidden cabinet, pulling out a black first-aid kit. He sat on the edge of the coffee table right in front of me.

He opened the kit, pulled out a tube of ointment, and took my hand again, resting it on his thigh. The warmth of his thigh seeped through the fabric of his trousers, straight into my palm.

"This will soothe the pain," he warned.

He applied the gel. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his long fingers spreading the cool cream over my skin with a meticulous care that felt entirely out of character for a man this ruthless. I closed my eyes, letting out a soft sigh. For once, I didn't have to fake it. It felt incredible. The contrast between the cold medicine and the searing heat of his skin was overriding my system, blurring the line between the assistant trying to survive and the woman completely captivated by her mark."You're not in the system," Nathaniel said, wrapping a light gauze around my wrist. "And you're not wearing a visitor's badge."

I opened my eyes. He was looking at me.

"I..." I started, letting my voice trail off.

He secured the tape on the bandage, but he didn't let go of my hand. He looked at my black tailored suit, my neat hair, and the empty space beside me where a folder should have been.

"My HR director mentioned a final candidate was scheduled for nine o'clock," he said, his tone turning clinical. "For the executive assistant position. The one with an impeccable resume and a terrible sense of punctuality."

I blinked.

He thought I was applying to be his assistant.

"You're late," Nathaniel continued, his voice dropping an octave. "And you've already managed to cause a disaster in my lobby."

My mind raced. Claire had told me he was impossible to get close to. That he lived in his office and ignored every woman who crossed his path. But if I was his assistant... I’d have access to his schedule, his office, his phone. I'd be with him every single day.

It was the perfect Trojan horse.

I swallowed hard, letting my shoulders drop as I looked up at him through my lashes.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Cole," I said, my voice trembling just enough. "The traffic was awful, and then... the coffee. I understand if you want me to leave."

Nathaniel didn't move. His hand rested inches from mine, his gaze dropping to my lips before rising back to my eyes. The silence stretched between us.

"I don't tolerate incompetence, Ms...?"

"Quinn," I supplied softly. "Scarlett Quinn."

"Ms. Quinn," he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like a threat. He stood up, putting the distance back between us. "Normally, I would have had security throw you out the moment you spilled that cup."

He walked back to his massive desk, leaning against the edge and crossing his arms.

"But I'm willing to overlook the mess. If—and only if—your skills match your audacity." He tilted his head. "Are you ready for the interview, or do you need to go to the hospital?"

I looked at the bandage on my wrist, then up at the man who was supposed to be my target, but felt entirely like my predator.

I stood up, smoothing down my suit jacket, and met his icy gaze.

"I'm ready," I said.