*Damien's POV*
This was harder than I'd expected. Sitting next to her in my hotel room, pretending to focus on the presentation while she fidgeted beside me, her pen twisting between her fingers. Her eyes kept drifting toward me, studying me intently, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Why does she do that? Doesn't she realize how insanely sexy she is?
Isabella isn't the type to flirt with her boss—that's what drew me to her in the first place. Her professionalism, her sharp mind, her impeccable grades. Despite her limited experience, her resume was flawless, and she was the only candidate who hadn't flirted with me that day. And she didn't disappoint. She's the best assistant I've ever had—a rare gem. But her presence—her energy—was also a nightmare for my work ethic.
I'm trying my best to stay professional, to keep my composure around her. But her piercing gaze, the way she bites her lip—it's a damn weapon. Every fiber of my being screams to lose myself. Fuck work ethics. Right now, I could forget everything and be with her—right here, right now.
"Sir," she broke the silence softly, her voice almost a whisper.
I hesitated, chest tightening. "Sorry, Isabella," I said, my voice rougher than intended. "We should take a break. I've ordered room service. Come, eat with me." I nodded toward the door, expecting her to follow me without question.
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*Isabella's POV*
He gestured for me to follow him into a corner of his suite—a cozy little nook with a plush black sofa and a small coffee table. The space felt surprisingly intimate, and I realized I was starving and in desperate need of a break. He sank into the sofa with a reassuring smile that made my stomach flutter, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of ease. Maybe I could do this. Have lunch with my boss—nothing more. I could push aside the wild, dirty thoughts that threatened to consume me and focus on the task at hand.
But as I sat beside him, eyeing the decadent array of appetizers before me, he reached out, plucking one from my plate and holding it to my lips. I froze, caught off guard, unsure whether to pull back or open my mouth. My heart pounded fiercely in my chest. "I heard you telling Mr. Estrada that you like Swiss cheese," he said smoothly. "Open your mouth, Isabella."
I parted my lips and opened my mouth, and the moment the delicious taste hit my tongue, I was surprised—pleasantly so. The flavor was rich, indulgent, and somehow intoxicating. The sound of his voice, low and steady, sent my mind spiraling into a dangerous place. I was afraid to do or say anything else, afraid I might make an unimaginable mistake that I couldn't take back.
"Is it good?" he asked, his tone casual, almost too calm. "Oh, yes, it's good," I managed to reply, my voice barely more than a whisper. He was talking about the food, but my mind was elsewhere—caught in the image of what I truly wanted, what I shouldn't be thinking about. "The food is wonderful, sir. Thank you," I said softly, trying to keep my composure, my words careful and polite as I tried to hide the storm raging inside.
After we finished the main dish, we moved on to coffee. I excused myself, my mind now spinning with the need to clear my head. I couldn't focus on work anymore—I needed a cold shower, a desperate attempt to wash away the heat, the temptation, the dangerous thoughts swirling in my mind.
*Monday Morning*
I chose a simple yet elegant outfit— a silver turtleneck sweater paired with tailored black pants and matching heels. My makeup was understated but polished, just enough to exude confidence. I took a deep breath and headed out, ready to face the day. As I stepped into the car, I greeted Damien softly, "Good morning, sir." He looked up from his seat, his eyes briefly roaming over me. "Isabella," he replied with a calm nod.
"Is there anything else I should know about your office here?" I asked, voice tinged with nervousness. Damien studied me carefully, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You're nervous, aren't you? Please don't be. New York City isn't that scary—you'll do amazing," he reassured me smoothly. He paused, then added, "Did you get a chance to see a little of the city?"
Before I could answer, I hesitated. "Oh, I... I was just shopping, sir," I said softly, And eyeing your sexy brother i told myself inwardly. Damien's expression remained composed, but his tone was gentle. "I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to go sightseeing," he said, voice warm. "No problem, sir. I don't like popular tourist spots anyway—too crowded," I replied, turning my attention out the window as the city blurred past.
"We're here already," Damien said calmly, nodding. The hotel was just around the corner, I could tell. "Stay put, Isabella. It's just a normal office," he instructed, voice steady. The car pulled up, and we entered the lobby. Damien greeted a woman with a professional smile. "Good morning, Jo-anne."
"Hello, Mr. Lancaster," she flirted, her tone dripping with playfulness. "We've missed you here in New York." He introduced me smoothly, "Jo-anne, this is Isabella." She offered a warm smile, and I nearly felt my confidence waver under her gaze. "Jo-anne will brief you on this week's schedule. Keep your phone—I'll call you when I need you," Damien added before slipping away.
I couldn't help but feel a flicker of resentment. Some women are so stunning that they make me forget all my confidence. Jo-anne was utterly gorgeous, and I felt like a peasant standing next to her—despite the designer clothes Jacob had bought me. "Hey, girl. Nice to meet you," Jo-anne greeted casually, flashing a grin.
"The big boss calls me Jo-anne, and I don't like it," she said, winking. "Although, it is my name—please just call me Jo or Joey." I nodded politely, trying to hide my discomfort. "Sorry about him," she added, smirking. "You got the cranky brother." I blinked, surprised. "I'm the PA to the fun brother," I said, my tone light but edged with a hint of sarcasm. She leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling. "Is it true that…"
Before she could finish, I interrupted gently, "I'm going to have to stop you right there. Mr. Lancaster is the CEO of this company. You wouldn't have this job if not for him. Stop calling him names and gossiping about him." For some reason, her amusement only grew at my words. It seemed nobody in New York took this company—or perhaps, this whole scene—very seriously.
"Him? Never," she said with a wink. "You're forgiven. But tell me—are you getting all the perks of having a gorgeous Lancaster as your boss? Because I sure do."