Page 8 of Ardent Desires

I nod, letting the silence hang between us. She’s nervous, but there’s something else there, too. Determination. She’s not afraid to push back, and I respect that.

“I see you studied marketing,” I say, flipping open her resume. “And you worked at a luxury resort during college. Why are you working as an assistant for Jameson Reed?”

She shifts in her seat, her eyes darting toward the door before settling back on me. “I... I wanted to get my foot in the door. Blackwood Enterprises is one of the best companies in the world. I figured if I worked hard enough, I’d have a chance to move up.”

I study her, letting the silence stretch. She’s not wrong. Blackwoodisthe best. But I can’t help but wonder why someone with her qualifications is stuck running errands for a man like Reed.

“Interesting,” I murmur, leaning forward slightly. “And do you think working for Mr. Reed is getting you where you want to be?”

Her eyes widen a bit, and she looks like she’s trying to find the right words. “I... I’m learning a lot,” she says carefully. “But I hope to eventually transition into something more... aligned with my degree.”

I smirk. She’s trying hard to be polite, but I can see the frustration. And honestly, I like that she’s not pretending everything’s perfect.

“I’ve reviewed your resume,” I say, leaning back. “You’ve got experience in hospitality, marketing, and you’ve managed to keep yourself afloat in one of the most demanding companies in the world. That’s impressive.”

Her eyes snap up to meet mine, surprised. “Thank you, sir.”

I nod, tapping my fingers lightly on the desk. “I’m considering expanding our European luxury hotel division. You have experience in that area. I might have use for you.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything at first. She looks shocked, like she wasn’t expecting this. Hell, I wasn’t expecting to say it either. But there’s something about her—herdetermination, her background—that makes me think she could be an asset.

“Thank you,” she says finally, her voice quiet but steady. “I—I’d love the opportunity.”

I nod again, letting the conversation settle. There’s more to her than just her resume. Maybe it’s the way she looks at me, like she’s trying to figure me out. Or maybe it’s that subtle vanilla scent she’s wearing. Either way, I’m intrigued. And that doesn’t happen often.

“Well,” I say, straightening the papers on my desk. “I expect to see more from you, Miss Sanders. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I won’t, sir,” she says quickly, standing up. Her hands are shaking a little as she smooths down her skirt.

I watch as she walks out of my office, her posture a little straighter than when she came in. The door clicks shut behind her, and I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck.

Last night, she caught me off guard with those wide eyes and that shaky apology. But there’s more to her than that. And I intend to find out exactly what it is.

Turning back to the proposals, I force myself to focus. The European expansion won’t happen on its own.

But before I can dive in, my phone buzzes again. Vanessa’s name pops up on the screen.

I groan, swiping to ignore the call. Again.

There’s work to be done. And now, more than ever, I need to keep my focus sharp.

* * *

It’s been a week since I pulled Ellie Sanders into this project, and every day, I’m more intrigued by her. I’ve had her desk moved next to Lena’s. Officially, it’s for convenience, but if I’m being honest with myself, I like having her close.

Right now, she’s sitting at that desk, head bent over a pile of documents, pen tapping against her lip. That damn red lipstick she always wears—it’s distracting as hell.

Lena walks into my office with her usual efficiency, dropping the administrative reports on my desk. She barely looks at me before turning to leave. Typical. Always so stiff, always by the book. But Ellie… she’s different.

I clear my throat. “Lena, before you go, I want you to handle everything administrative for the French Riviera project.”

She pauses, turns slowly, eyebrow raised just slightly. “And Miss Sanders?” she asks, her tone cold but professional, like always.

“She’ll be working hand-in-hand with you,” I say, keeping my tone even, though my gaze flicks to Ellie’s desk. “But she’ll be focused on the creative and strategic side of things. You’ll handle the logistics.”

Lena gives a short nod, though I can tell she’s not thrilled. Doesn’t matter. This project is too important, and I need Ellie’s mind on it, not buried in paperwork.

I step out of my office and approach Ellie’s desk. She looks up, blinking, clearly surprised that I’m standing over her.

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