The Billionaire’s Forbidden Assistant

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, sealing Sienna in a space of glass and chrome—and tension. She wasn’t alone. Dominic Wolfe stood to her left, tall and devastating in his charcoal-gray suit, a subtle musk of sandalwood and something darker clinging to the air around him. His profile was all hard lines and quiet danger, eyes like winter storms. He hadn't spoken a word since they stepped in together. Her heart pounded a little too fast for comfort. She was the new executive assistant to one of his partners, barely three hours into her first day at Wolfe International, and already she’d spilled coffee on her skirt, gotten lost on the 30th floor, and now she was trapped in an elevator with the man whose name inspired both awe and fear in the office gossip. She could *feel* him watching her, even if he wasn’t turned her way. “I didn’t expect to see you this early,” his voice came low and smooth, like silk over gravel. Her breath caught. She turned slightly, careful not to meet his eyes for too long. “First day. Thought I’d impress by being on time.” “You’re already impressive.” His words were quiet, but there was something in the way he said it—unapologetic, deliberate. Sienna's stomach dipped. Heat licked its way up her spine. “I—I work for Mr. Linton,” she said quickly. “Your partner.” “I know who you work for.” He finally looked at her. His gaze was slow, sweeping, like a touch without contact. Her skin prickled under it. The elevator jolted to a sudden stop between floors. Lights flickered. “Oh God,” Sienna gasped, hand shooting to the wall. Dominic didn’t move. His voice was calm. “Emergency stop. It happens. Relax.” Easy for him to say. He looked like he *owned* the building—and probably did. Then came the silence. Thick. Charged. She wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she glanced up at him. He was already looking at her, mouth curved ever so slightly. “I don’t bite,” he said softly. “That’s... good to know.” “But I *do* touch.” The air between them sparked. She felt it—felt *him*—every nerve tuned to the man who hadn’t touched her yet but whose voice alone was unraveling something tightly coiled inside her. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Is that part of the job description?” His smile deepened, wicked now. “Depends on how far you want to climb, Miss Rose.” He stepped closer. Not touching. Just near enough for her to feel the heat of his body. His hand lifted—slow, intentional—and brushed a stray curl from her cheek. Fingers lingered. Sienna’s breath stuttered. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. She didn’t stop him when his thumb grazed her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, even as his eyes dipped to her mouth. Her body thrummed, her mind screaming at her to pull back, but the elevator was too small, his pull too strong. “You haven’t done anything yet,” she whispered. That was all it took. His hand cupped her jaw, pulling her closer, and his mouth found hers—not sweet, but consuming. Hot. Possessive. Her hands braced against his chest, not to push him away—but to hold on. The kiss deepened, his tongue stroking hers, and Sienna moaned into him, mind melting into the feel of his body pressing her to the wall. One hand slipped to her waist, gripping her like he owned her. And maybe, in that moment, he did. The elevator jolted again. Lights returned. The spell broke. He pulled back, breath shallow. “Forget this happened,” he said, smoothing a hand through his dark hair. Her lips were still tingling. Her body, betrayed. She stared at him. “Is that an order, Mr. Wolfe?” He paused at the door as it opened, and turned to look at her one last time. “No,” he said, voice rough. “It’s a warning.” To Be Continued…