Scandal and Seduction

Elena's POV

The shrill buzz of my phone tore me out of sleep. I blinked against the sunlight spilling through the curtains, the brightness painting the room in gold. Turning to the other side of the bed, I found it empty. Andrew was gone. Probably back in his own room.

I stretched, a lazy yawn escaping me, and reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with five missed calls from Hannah. My lips curved. Finally, she decided to call.

I dialed her back, pressing the phone to my ear as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. She answered on the second ring.

"Hi, Elena!" Her voice was bubbly and cheerful, the kind of morning energy I couldn't even pretend to match.

"Good morning," I mumbled, leaning back against the headboard. "I tried calling last night but your line wasn't going through."

"Yeah. Had a dead battery." She chuckled.

Before I could reply, Matthew's voice filtered faintly through the line, followed by Hannah's giggle and the unmistakable sound of a kiss. My chest tightened. Typical of him. I just prayed he wouldn't treat her the way he treated me.

"So..." Hannah's tone shifted playfully when she came back on the line. "How's the trip?"

A slow smile tugged at my lips as fragments of last night flashed through my mind. "Magical," I murmured, my voice softer than I intended.

There was a pause, then a knowing hum. "Mmm. You've got a whole lot to tell me when you're back, don't you?"

I laughed under my breath. "Of course."

"Okay." She drew out the word, a playful lilt in her tone. "Guess what?"

"You know I'm terrible at guessing," I said, rubbing my temple. It was too early to make my brain do gymnastics.

"Matthew and I..." She let the suspense hang for a second before shrieking, "We're engaged!"

My jaw slackened. I did not see that coming. Matthew... proposed?

She was already gushing, her words tumbling out in a rush. "He got down on one knee last night and it was perfect. I still can't believe it!"

I forced a smile. "Wow. Really?" My voice lifted, trying to match her excitement. "That's... amazing."

At least Matthew had done something right this time. He must have treated her well, otherwise, Hannah would never have said yes.

"I'm so happy for you," I said, and for once, I meant every word.

Her squeal pierced through the receiver. "The wedding's in just a few weeks, so you better hurry back to L.A.!"

A few weeks? My brows shot up. That was... fast. Too fast. Why the sudden rush?

Before I could ask, a sharp knock rattled the door. Probably Andrew.

"I've got to go, Hannah," I cut in quickly. "I'll call when I'm free, okay?"

"Bye!" she chirped, and the line clicked dead.

I dragged myself out of bed and padded across the room to the door. When I pulled it open, Andrew stood there, already dressed for the day. The dark, tailored suit hugged his frame in that way it always did, cutting a sharp, commanding silhouette. His hair, carelessly falling across his forehead, only made him more maddeningly irresistible.

"Good morning... sir," I said, my eyes locked on his face, hoping for even the ghost of a smile.

But there was none. His gaze was flat, unreadable and distant. Almost as if last night had never happened.

"You're not ready for the meeting. It's 10 a.m. already." His tone was clipped, all business.

My stomach dropped. Ten already? Shit. I must have crashed so hard after... after last night. My body had been wrung out from the intimacy, from the way he'd made me feel things I hadn't felt in nearly a year, since Matthew.

"I... I was just about to, sir." My voice stumbled over itself. Why did his stare feel so cold now?

"Good. Get to it. Let me know when you're done." He turned without another glance. "I'll be downstairs in the car."

And then he was gone, leaving me in the doorway, chest tight.

I exhaled shakily, realizing I'd been holding my breath. What the hell was that? He looked at me like... like I was no one. For a man who had traced every inch of my skin just hours ago, he now spoke as if we were strangers. Had I only imagined last night? No. It was too raw, too real. My body still ached from it.

I closed the door and slumped back inside, shoulders heavy. I had been foolish. Letting my fantasy run wild and believing just for a moment that I was more than his secretary. That I mattered to him. But I was wrong. It was nothing more than a mistake, and mistakes don't change anything.

By the time I showered and slipped into my clothes, the hollow ache in my chest had settled into a dull weight. Downstairs, I slid into the car beside him. He was already there, eyes locked to his phone, fingers tapping with disinterest. Not one glance in my direction.

I turned toward the window, forcing myself to watch the blur of the city instead of the man beside me. Still, every inch of me felt his nearness, the heat of his body like a cruel reminder. I told myself not to think about him. But how could I, when he was right there, close enough to touch yet impossibly far away?

After the meeting, we drove back to the hotel and he disappeared into his room without a word. His silence stung more than I wanted to admit, but who was I to complain?

I retreated to my own room, deciding I had no energy left for the day. It was only noon, but the quiet seemed perfect for a nap. I curled up with the novel I'd packed, ready to lose myself in its pages, when a sharp chime from my phone pulled me back.

A message. From him.

"Meet me at the executive lounge."

My lips tugged into a smile before I could stop them. So he'd finally decided to acknowledge his "unattractive secretary." Of course, he would choose the executive lounge. Exclusive, private and expensive. Very much like him.

I slipped on my flats, locked the door behind me, and made my way down the quiet hallway. The anticipation quickened my steps.

When I reached the lounge, I raised my hand, knocked lightly, and pushed the door open.

When I stepped in, I couldn't stop myself from gaping. The executive lounge was breathtaking and far more elegant than anywhere I'd ever been. Soft golden lighting glowed over plush armchairs and sleek leather couches, arranged in cozy clusters that invited quiet, private conversations. The air carried a faint scent of polished wood and expensive coffee, wrapping the room in quiet sophistication.

Across the room, Andrew sat waiting, his eyes fixed on me. I drew in a breath and walked toward him.

I sat across from him, nerves tangling in my stomach. Why had he called me here? What was so important that it couldn't be said anywhere else? My palms grew clammy against my skirt, and I couldn't bring myself to lift my eyes from the polished table between us. My heart hammered so loud I was certain he could hear it. God, please... don't let me embarrass myself.

He raised his glass, watching me over the rim as he took a slow sip. The faint clink as he set it back down made me flinch. Then, leaning forward, his gaze locked onto mine with unsettling intensity.

"I want us to make a deal," he said, voice low but firm.

My head snapped up, confusion flashing across my face. A deal? With me?

"Sir, I... I don't understand." My voice came out smaller than I intended.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing smile. "Tell me," he asked, his tone deceptively casual, "what kind of man do you want to marry?"

I froze, heat rushing to my cheeks. Of all the questions he could have asked, why this one? My throat tightened. Still, I forced the words out. "I... I just want someone who'll love me the way I love him," I whispered, barely able to meet his eyes.

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest. Then, without warning, he leaned back and dropped the words that shattered the air between us.

"In that case," he said smoothly, "will you marry me?"