Emma stood in front of her bedroom mirror at 5:30 AM, staring at the black dress hanging on her closet door.
This wasn't just any dress. This was the dress—the one she'd bought on sale six months ago and had been saving for a special occasion. Fitted, elegant, professional enough for a corporate setting but with a subtle sensuality in the way it hugged her curves. The neckline was modest but hinted at the graceful column of her throat. The hem hit just above the knee, showing off her legs without crossing into inappropriate territory.
She'd told herself she was just dressing professionally. That this had nothing to do with the way Alexander's eyes had darkened when he looked at her last night. That she wasn't trying to crack the Ice King's armor.
But Emma had never been good at lying to herself.
The meeting today was critical—a presentation to the board about Sterling Industries' biggest opportunity yet. A partnership with a major health insurance company that could triple their current financial status. The wellness app they'd been developing would be integrated into insurance plans nationwide, reaching millions of users. And ninety percent of the project's success hinged on the nutritional science framework—Emma's expertise.
She was irreplaceable, and she knew it. The company needed her. Which meant Alexander needed her, whether his ego would admit it or not.
Emma slipped into the black dress, the fabric settling against her skin like a whisper. She kept her makeup natural but polished—just enough to enhance her features without looking like she'd tried too hard. Her long, wavy hair she styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders. And then, the final touch.
Catch 22.
The perfume was her secret weapon—warm, sophisticated, with notes of jasmine and amber that somehow smelled different on everyone who wore it. On Emma, it was intoxicating without being overwhelming, the kind of scent that lingered in a room after she left and made people turn their heads trying to identify it.
She sprayed it on her pulse points: behind her ears, at the base of her throat where her jugular vein pulsed, the inside of her wrists. The scent would rise with her body heat throughout the day, creating an invisible aura that would be impossible to ignore.
If the Ice King thinks he can resist me, let's see how long that lasts.
Emma arrived at Sterling Industries at 6:45 AM sharp, the building still mostly empty in the pre-dawn quiet. The security guard did a double-take when she walked through the lobby, her heels clicking against the marble with confident precision.
She wanted to be early. Wanted Alexander to see that yesterday's lateness was an aberration, not a pattern. Wanted to prove she was reliable, professional, indispensable.
Wanted him to see her in this dress before anyone else did.
The 35th floor was silent except for the soft hum of computers on standby and the distant rumble of the city waking up outside. Emma set her bag down at her desk, powered up her computer, and began preparing for the meeting—pulling up the files she'd need, organizing her notes, making sure every detail was perfect
At 6:58 AM, she heard it.
The distinctive purr of an engine in the parking garage below—expensive, powerful, unmistakably Italian. Emma moved to the window and caught a glimpse of a sleek black Ferrari sliding into the executive parking spot.
Alexander Sterling had arrived.
Her heart rate kicked up as she heard the elevator chime. She forced herself to return to her desk, to look busy and professional, even though every nerve ending was suddenly on high alert.
The elevator doors opened, and Alexander stepped onto the floor.
He wore a charcoal gray Tom Ford suit that probably cost more than her monthly rent, a crisp white shirt, and a navy tie that brought out the shifting colors in his eyes. His dark hair was perfectly styled, still slightly damp from a morning shower. He carried a leather briefcase in one hand and moved with the controlled grace of a man who owned every space he entered.
Their eyes met across the open floor plan.
Emma watched something flicker across his face—surprise that she was already there, maybe, or appreciation for her punctuality. But then his gaze traveled down, taking in the black dress, and his entire body went rigid.
The Ice King's jaw clenched. His knuckles whitened around the briefcase handle. And for just a fraction of a second, Emma saw raw, undisguised hunger flash through those hunter eyes before he crushed it back down with visible effort.
Got you.
"Ms. Hart." His voice was carefully controlled, but she heard the slight roughness underneath. "You're early."
"I wanted to be prepared, sir. The board meeting is important."
"Indeed." He walked past her desk, and Emma caught the moment he inhaled—subtle, barely noticeable, but she saw his shoulders tense as her perfume reached him. "Conference room in five minutes. Notify the board members."
He disappeared into his office without another word, but Emma noticed he'd gripped the door handle a little too tightly.
At exactly 7:00 AM, Alexander emerged from his office and headed toward the large conference room at the end of the floor. Emma followed, her heels clicking a steady rhythm behind him.
"Everyone, please come to my office—" Alexander paused, correcting himself. "To the conference room. The meeting begins now."
His voice carried authority that made people move immediately. Within minutes, the conference room filled with Sterling Industries' senior leadership: the CFO, COO, head of product development, lead investors, and several board members Emma had only seen in company newsletters.
Emma entered the room first, taking her seat in the assistant's chair near the head of the table where Alexander would sit. As she moved past him to reach her seat, she felt the shift in his posture—the way he went absolutely still as her scent washed over him.
She settled into her chair, crossing her legs and pulling out her tablet to take notes. When she glanced up, Alexander was staring at her with an expression that could have melted steel.
Then he blinked, and the Ice King mask was back in place.
"Let's begin," he said coolly, taking his seat at the head of the table.
The meeting lasted sixty minutes, but for Emma, every second felt charged with electricity.
Alexander presented the partnership opportunity with his characteristic precision—numbers, projections, market analysis delivered in that deep, commanding voice that made everyone in the room sit up straighter. He was brilliant, and watching him work was like watching a master conductor lead an orchestra.
But Emma noticed things the others didn't. The way his eyes kept flickering to her when he thought she wasn't looking. The way his hand tightened around his pen whenever she shifted in her seat. The way he seemed hyper-aware of her presence in a room full of powerful people demanding his attention.
Halfway through the meeting, the CFO turned to Emma.
"Ms. Hart, I understand you're our nutrition expert on this project. Can you walk us through the scientific framework that makes our app different from competitors?"
All eyes turned to her. Emma felt the weight of their stares—some curious, some skeptical, and more than a few male board members whose gazes lingered a little too long on her figure in the black dress.
She stood, smoothing her dress with steady hands, and moved to the presentation screen.
"Of course." Emma's voice was clear and confident. She'd spent years presenting research in university settings; a boardroom full of executives didn't intimidate her. "Our competitive advantage lies in our personalized nutritional AI that adapts to individual metabolic responses rather than generic calorie counting..."
She launched into her explanation, pulling up slides she'd prepared showing the science behind their algorithms, the peer-reviewed research supporting their methodology, the clinical trials they planned to conduct. She spoke about gut microbiome diversity, macronutrient timing, and bioavailability with the ease of someone who genuinely understood the material at an expert level.
The room was silent, captivated.
But Emma only cared about one person's reaction.
Alexander sat at the head of the table, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her skin warm. He wasn't just listening—he was completely focused on her in a way that felt almost possessive. His jaw was tight, his posture rigid with control, but she could see it: the way his chest rose and fell a little faster, the way his fingers drummed once against the table before he forced them still, the way those hunter eyes darkened with something that definitely wasn't just professional respect.
He wanted her.
The Ice King wanted her, and he was fighting it with everything he had.
The realization sent a thrill through Emma's body that she had no business feeling in a professional setting. She forced herself to focus on her presentation, to ignore the heat building between them, to finish strong
"And that's why our approach will revolutionize personalized nutrition in ways our competitors can't match," she concluded, meeting Alexander's gaze directly. "Any questions?"
The CFO nodded appreciatively. "Impressive, Ms. Hart. Very impressive."
"I have to agree," said the COO. "Alexander, where did you find her? She's exceptional."
Emma watched Alexander's jaw clench at the compliment, saw sometHe redirected the conversation with smooth authority, but Emma noticed he didn't look at her again for the rest of the meeting. It was like he was deliberately avoiding her, creating distance even as the air between them crackled with tension.
The other board members stared at Emma throughout the meeting—some with respect, others with barely concealed desire. But Emma's focus remained locked on Alexander. On the way his hands moved when he gestured. On the way his voice dropped slightly when he was making a crucial point. On the subtle tells that suggested he was far more affected by her presence than he wanted anyone to know.
This wasn't just about proving herself professionally anymore.hing flash through his eyes that looked almost like jealousy when the COO smiled at her a bit too warmly.
"Ms. Hart's credentials spoke for themselves," Alexander said coolly. "Which is why she's on this team. Are we ready to discuss implementation timeline?"
He redirected the conversation with smooth authority, but Emma noticed he didn't look at her again for the rest of the meeting. It was like he was deliberately avoiding her, creating distance even as the air between them crackled with tension.
The other board members stared at Emma throughout the meeting—some with respect, others with barely concealed desire. But Emma's focus remained locked on Alexander. On the way his hands moved when he gestured. On the way his voice dropped slightly when he was making a crucial point. On the subtle tells that suggested he was far more affected by her presence than he wanted anyone to know.
This wasn't just about proving herself professionally anymore.
Emma wanted to see what lay beneath the Ice King's frozen exterior. Wanted to understand what made him tick, what he was hiding behind all that controlled precision. Wanted to be the one who cracked through his armor and discovered the real Alexander Sterling.
And maybe—just maybe—she wanted him to crack through hers too.
The meeting concluded at exactly 8:00 AM. Board members filed out, several stopping to congratulate Emma on her presentation. She smiled graciously, shook hands, accepted compliments, all while acutely aware of Alexander gathering his papers at the head of the table.
Finally, the room emptied.
It was just the two of them, separated by twenty feet of expensive conference table and a tension so thick Emma could practically taste it.
"Ms. Hart." Alexander's voice cut through the silence.
"Yes, sir?"
"Your presentation was..." He paused, and Emma watched him struggle with something internal. "Exceptional. You represented the company well."
It was the closest thing to praise she'd heard from him, and coming from the Ice King, it felt like a victory.
"Thank you, sir."
"However—" His eyes finally lifted to meet hers, and Emma's breath caught at the intensity she found there. "In the future, please maintain appropriate professional boundaries during board meetings."
Emma's eyebrows rose. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"I think you know exactly what I mean." His voice dropped lower, rough with something that sounded like frustration. Or desire. Or both. "You're playing a dangerous game, Ms. Hart."
"I'm just doing my job, Mr. Sterling."
"Are you?" He moved around the table toward her, each step deliberate and controlled. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're trying to prove something."
Emma's heart hammered as he approached. She should step back. Should maintain distance. Should remember that he was her boss and this was completely inappropriate.
But she didn't move.
"And what if I am?" she challenged quietly. "What if I want to prove I belong here? That I'm more than just a pretty face with a degree?"
Alexander stopped three feet away from her, close enough that she could smell his cologne—something expensive and masculine that made her want to close the distance between them.
"You've already proven that." His eyes searched her face, and for once, the Ice King's mask slipped just enough to show vulnerability underneath. "The question is: what else are you trying to prove?"
The air between them was electric, charged with everything they weren't saying.
Emma realized with startling clarity that she was in dangerous territory. That this wasn't just about professional ambition anymore. That every time Alexander looked at her with those shifting amber-brown eyes, something inside her responded in ways that had nothing to do with career advancement.
She wanted to nurture him. To understand him. To see what lay beneath the ice and ego and control.
And God help her, she wanted him to look at her the way he was looking at her right now—like she was the only thing in the world that could make him lose control.
"I should get back to work," Emma said softly, but she didn't move.
Neither did Alexander.
They stood there, frozen in a moment that felt suspended in time, both knowing they should walk away and neither one able to make themselves do it.
Finally, Alexander broke the spell.
"Yes. You should." His voice was rough, almost pained. He turned away from her, heading for the door. "I have calls scheduled all morning. Hold them unless it's urgent."
Then he was gone, leaving Emma alone in the conference room with her racing heart and the dangerous realization that the Ice King wasn't nearly as immune to her as he pretended to be.
And she was in serious trouble.