To Burn Beside You

I should've known he'd be beautiful.

But I wasn't prepared for that kind of beauty.

Lucian Thorne doesn't belong in boardrooms. He belongs in shadows, or maybe under a goddamn spotlight-tall, sharp-edged, and tailored in black like he walked off the cover of GQ and straight into the Devil's seat at the head of the table.

He didn't look at me when I walked in. Just kept reading a file with the kind of focus that said I know you're here, and I'll deal with you when I'm ready. Like I was just another problem to be assessed, processed, and neutralized.

They told me to bring my A-game. I brought my heels, my lip gloss, and my most expensive attitude.

"Miss Vale," he said, without looking up. "You're late."

I smiled-sharp and sugarcoated. "Traffic was hell. You know how it is. Bottlenecks, egos, entitled men in suits who think time stops for them."

That got his eyes on me.

And God-those eyes.

Steel-gray. Ice-cold. The kind of eyes that see too much and offer nothing in return. He studied me like a weapon he wasn't sure he needed to disarm yet.

"Do you usually begin contracts by insulting your clients?" he asked, voice calm and clipped.

"Only when they open with rudeness first."

He tapped the folder in front of him. "You're not my client. Not yet. You're just a name on a file someone else recommended."

"And you're just a man with a PR crisis trying not to look like he's bleeding."

Silence stretched between us.

I could see the flicker of something behind his eyes-not anger. Something colder. He didn't rise to the bait. He let it sit. Let me squirm. A power play. And I hated that it worked.

Finally, he closed the folder, slid it aside like he'd already decided.

"I don't want a fixer," he said. "I want a scalpel."

"I'm both," I replied. "But I don't work miracles. If you're looking for a halo, you've called the wrong woman."

He leaned forward slightly. Just enough for me to catch the scent of cedar and something darker. Like expensive danger.

"I'm not looking for salvation, Miss Vale," he said quietly. "I'm looking for silence."

I blinked.

"Excuse me?"

He pushed a contract across the table. "You'll start tomorrow. You'll have full access to my files, my company's internal communications, and your own secure office. But there are rules."

Of course there were.

"I'm listening," I said, even though I wanted to roll my eyes.

"One-anything you see, hear, or suspect stays in-house. Two-you report directly to me. No exceptions. Three-if I believe, even once, that you've compromised my interests, I will have you legally and professionally dismantled."

Well.