Chapter 06

Adrian's POV

A knock interrupted me as I examined the latest Next Gen prototype renders at my desk, resumes scattered around.

"Mr. Salvatore," Charles said, pushing the door open. "Your new executive assistant from Neural Labs is here."

I turned to greet the newcomer, but the words died in my throat. Her. Standing in my doorway—the woman from that unforgettable night. A smile broke through my professional mask before I could stop it, and honestly, I didn't want to.

She was here. In my office. The last place I'd ever imagined her stepping into, yet somehow, the only place she belonged right now.

Recognition slammed into me, a visceral ache that sank low in my gut and ignited something primal. That night—her skin against mine, her breath hot in my ear—flashed behind my eyes like a fever dream. Gone was the slinky dress that had first snared me at the bar, its fabric clinging to her like a lover's hands.

Now, she stood encased in a tailored blazer and pencil skirt, every inch the poised professional. But that only made her more devastating. The contrast between the wild, uninhibited woman who'd unraveled me in bed and this cool, collected figure was a drug I hadn't known I craved.

Her hair was swept back, exposing the elegant line of her neck—a neck I'd kissed until she'd arched beneath me, gasping my name. The crisp white blouse hugged her chest, the top button straining just enough to hint at the curves I'd memorized with my palms. My fingers twitched on the desk, itching to trace those lines again, to peel back the layers of restraint she'd draped herself in.

"Welcome to Next Robotics," I managed, my voice forcibly neutral despite the memories flooding back—her skin against mine, her gasps in my ear, her nails down my back.

"Thank you, Mr. Salvatore." Her reply was cool and detached, nothing like the honeyed moans I remembered. But I caught the slight flush creeping up her neck, the way her fingers tightened on her bag strap.

Charles droned on about schedules and protocols, his voice fading to background noise as I studied her. Mid-twenties, carrying herself with natural grace. The suit couldn't hide the sway of her hips—hips I'd gripped as she moved above me that night.

"Charles," I cut in, my voice sharper than I intended, slicing through his monotonous ramble. "Give us a moment."

Once we were alone, I stood and approached her slowly. Her scent hit me—crisp and floral, with that underlying warmth that had driven me crazy that night.

"So," I said, voice low, "you're my new assistant." It wasn't a question. It was a challenge.

Her chin lifted slightly. "Yes, Mr. Salvatore." Her tone was professional, but her breath hitched when I stepped closer.

"You're good at pretending," I murmured, my gaze dropping to her lips. "But I remember...."

For a moment, her mask slipped. I saw the same hunger that had consumed us both that night, before she forced her composure back. The air between us grew thick with unspoken tension, memories of her wearing nothing but my shirt flashing through my mind. Her eyes still held that same capacity to darken with desire, even now beneath her professional veneer.

"Quite the coincidence," I moved closer, drawn to her like a magnet. "Finding you here."

"Is it?" Her voice carried that same seductive undertone I remembered. "Perhaps it's fate."

A sudden commotion outside my office broke the spell. Voices of the development team passing by reminded me exactly where we were.

"I want to be clear, Mr. Salvatore," she took control of the conversation with a confidence that was, frankly, arousing. "What happened that night was... pleasant, but it's in the past. I'm here because I'm qualified for this position. My experience at Neural Labs speaks for itself."

I couldn't help but admire her directness. This woman knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to set boundaries. It made her even more attractive.

"The position is demanding," I said. "The turnover rate speaks for itself."

"I'm aware of the challenges, Mr. Salvatore." A hint of steel entered her voice. "I grew up watching my mother build a business from nothing. I understand hard work and long hours."

"The position requires discretion. Absolute professionalism." I emphasized each word.

"Of course." Her chin lifted slightly. "I excel at maintaining appropriate boundaries."

The double meaning hung in the air between us. I allowed myself a small smile. "Very well, Ms. Rose. Charles will show you to your desk and review your duties."

She turned to leave, her movements precise and controlled. At the door, she paused. "Mr. Salvatore?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for the opportunity."

I nodded once, acknowledging the unspoken agreement between us. As the door closed behind her, I turned to the windows, watching the morning fog roll across Silicon Valley.

Throughout the day, I found myself constantly aware of her presence. Her performance in meetings, her sharp intelligence and efficiency - all of it only added to her appeal. She proved herself to be exactly what the company needed, while simultaneously being everything I shouldn't want.

We maintained professional distance, but each brief eye contact felt like playing with fire. Every slight touch when she handed me documents, every trace of her perfume as she passed by, tested my self-control.

"Your 2 PM with the board has been moved to tomorrow," she informed me through the intercom. "I've already received the preliminary briefing from Neural Labs regarding the collaboration."

"Thank you, Ms. Rose." I responded, impressed by her efficiency.

The hours slipped by as I lost myself in code and specifications. The outer office gradually quieted as the staff trickled out. A soft knock interrupted my focus around eight.

"Come in."

"Your coffee, Mr. Salvatore."

Anna placed a cup of coffee on my desk. Even at this late hour, her movements remained elegant and precise. The office was quiet now, most of the staff had left, creating an intimate atmosphere that made me acutely aware of her presence.

"Thank you," I said, watching as the steam rose from the cup.

"Everything's set for today," I said, watching her carefully. "I'll see you at my place tomorrow morning then?"

She paused, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "Your... place?"

I couldn't help but tease her a little, enjoying the rare moment of seeing her composed facade crack. "What's wrong, Ms. Rose? Having second thoughts about certain... responsibilities?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, clearly trying to decode my meaning. The way her lips parted slightly in thought was entirely too distracting. Damn, she probably had no idea how tempting that expression was.

"I apologize, Mr. Salvatore, but I need to confirm the specific details," her professional tone carried a hint of caution. "Charles mentioned the morning arrangements, but I'd like to verify the time and address."

"Ah, yes." I leaned back in my chair, allowing myself a small smirk. "Part of your duties as executive assistant includes ensuring I'm up for my early meetings. Which means waking me up at my residence."

Recognition dawned in her eyes, followed by what might have been relief - or was it disappointment? That look reminded me of how she'd appeared that morning in my bed. "I see. Charles did mention that. I just needed to confirm the specifics."

"No need to apologize, Ms. Rose." I couldn't resist adding, "Though I must say, your momentary... uncertainty was quite entertaining."

She gave me a look that was both professional and slightly challenging. "I assure you, Mr. Salvatore, I'm quite capable of handling all my professional duties. Including wake-up calls."

The double meaning in her words made my heart race. God, she was good at this game. Just like that night at the bar, she always knew exactly how to walk the line - never too obvious, yet perfectly provocative.

"I'll send the address to your email," I said, my voice rougher than intended. "See you tomorrow, Ms. Rose."

As she turned to leave, I couldn't help but watch her graceful exit. Those long legs glimpsed beneath her skirt hem brought back vivid memories of that night, of her soft gasps as my hands traced the inside of her thighs...

I waited until the door closed before letting out a controlled breath, running a hand through my hair. The prototype specs on my desk blurred together as memories of that night threatened to overwhelm me.

Fuck, I felt myself getting hard just from being near her. I forced my attention back to the prototype specs, but the numbers blurred together... Damn it.