The next morning, Elena arrived early, determined to bury herself in work. After last night, after the way Alexander had spoken to her—not as his assistant, but as if she were… more—she needed the distraction.
But distraction was impossible when the man himself strode into the office, sharp and composed as ever. Except she knew better now. She had seen the cracks.
"Miss Carter. My office."
She followed, clutching her notepad like armor.
Inside, he handed her a stack of reports. "These projections are unacceptable. Fix them."
Elena glanced at the papers, confusion knitting her brow. "With respect, Mr. Frost, the numbers are correct. I double-checked them twice."
"Then check again." His voice was clipped, his eyes flashing with something sharper than annoyance.
Something inside Elena snapped. "You don't get to take your frustrations out on me just because Sophia Bennett rattled you."
The words tumbled out before she could stop them.
Silence fell. His gaze darkened, freezing her in place. "Careful, Miss Carter."
But she was already past the point of caution. "I'm not your punching bag. If you think I'll just sit here and take it—"
In two strides, he was in front of her. His hand pressed against the desk beside her hip, his presence towering, overwhelming.
"You think you know me?" His voice was low, dangerous. "You don't know a damn thing."
Elena's breath caught. The air between them crackled, electric. His scent—clean, sharp, expensive—wrapped around her, dizzying. Her pulse thundered.
"I know you're human," she whispered. "Even if you pretend not to be."
His eyes dropped to her lips. Just for a second.
And then the world shrank to nothing but the heat of his body, the space of a breath between them.
Her heart screamed yes.
But just as his face dipped closer—
A knock shattered the moment.
"Mr. Frost?" Mrs. Greene's voice carried through the door. "Your car is waiting."
Alexander froze. A beat of silence, then he stepped back, mask sliding into place with practiced ease.
"Dismissed," he said coolly.
Elena's knees wobbled as she slipped past him, her skin still tingling from where the heat of his presence had branded her.
Almost.
They had almost kissed.
And that almost felt more dangerous than if they had.