Page 35 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
I settled back against his chest, processing his words. An analyst position would be a significant step forward in my career. It was what I'd been working toward for years.
"Okay," I finally said. "Boston sounds good."
"Good." I could hear the satisfaction in his voice. "We'll leave Thursday morning, be back Sunday evening."
The casual way he said it, as if traveling together for business was normal, sent a flutter through my stomach. This was getting complicated, but I couldn't bring myself to care.
Hours later, when it was time to leave, Lucian walked me to the elevator. He seemed reluctant to let me go, his hand lingering on my lower back as we waited for the doors to open.
"I have something for you," he said suddenly, reaching into his pocket.
He produced a small black velvet box, and my heart nearly stopped. Jewelry? This was exactly the type of gesture that would blur the lines we'd just carefully redrawn.
"Lucian, I can't?—"
"Open it."
With trembling fingers, I lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in white satin, was a keycard.
Not jewelry. Something worse.
I felt the color drain from my face as I realized he was giving me a key to his penthouse.
"It's for the private elevator," he explained. "So you can come and go as you please. No need to announce yourself to security or wait in the lobby."
I stared at the keycard, not fully understanding what was really happening here. This wasn't just convenience—it was access. Complete, unrestricted access to his private world.
"I don't know if this is a good idea."
"Why not? You're here often enough. This just makes it easier."
But it wasn't easier. It was dangerous. Because looking at that keycard, feeling the weight of his trust and the casualness with which he'd given me entry to his life, I realized I was already far more attached to this arrangement than I'd admitted to myself.
And maybe, judging by the gift in my hands, so was he.
10
LUCIAN
Tessa was absolutely fantastic during the meeting in Boston, and it wasn't just the way that blue dress hugged her curves or the glimmer of pride in her expression as she fielded difficult questions.
I found her intelligence sensational, her ability to navigate the challenging arguments the potential client made so authoritative that even I was ready to sign on the dotted line.
The meeting that could've taken over four hours to achieve resolution and secure signatures ended in just under three hours with our new clients eating out of our hands.
Though I had been distracted by how gorgeous she was standing at the head of the table presenting her report, nothing escaped my notice. My assessment of her capabilities had been spot-on and Tessa Wynn was going to make Cross Capital a lot of money.
The meeting over, she relaxed and began tucking her portfolios away and gathering up her things while I said my thanks and goodbyes to each member of the client's team.
One by one, they filtered out until I turned to see Tessa standing alone with her things held in her arms, ready to go.
"You were incredible," I said once we were alone.
"Really?" The uncertainty in her voice surprised me. How could she not know how brilliant she was?
It had to be a hefty case of imposter syndrome, or maybe I hadn't done my job as her mentor adequately enough.
"Really. They were ready to sign before you finished the first slide." I opened the door for her and she walked out ahead of me.
