The boardroom was freezing.
Elena sat in her usual chair at the far end of the table, her notebook open, her pen poised. She was dressed again, her beige blouse buttoned to the top, her skirt smoothed, her glasses back on her nose. She looked every inch the professional executive assistant.
But inside, she was screaming.
She could still taste him. She could still feel the phantom weight of his hand in her hair. Her body was humming with a mixture of adrenaline, shame, and a lingering arousal that terrified her. She was sitting in a room filled with twelve of the most powerful people in the city, discussing millions of dollars, and all she could think about was being under the desk ten minutes ago.
Julian sat at the head of the table, looking immaculate. He was discussing the quarterly
