Jenna Blake was the kind of assistant who never made mistakes.
She arrived ten minutes early, kept her emails crisp and her skirt modest. Her heels clicked like a metronome through the marble floors of Voss Global Industries. She never dared to wear red lipstick. Never raised her voice. Never flirted.
And yet, none of that mattered the moment she stepped into Cole Voss’s office.
Because the second he looked up at her—sharp blue eyes narrowing over the rim of his glasses—every inch of her body betrayed her professionalism.
Her breath caught. Her thighs clenched.
And Mr. Voss noticed.
He didn’t smile.
He didn’t nod.
He just stared at her like a problem he already knew how to solve.
Cole Voss wasn’t a man who wasted words.
His instructions came like bullets—short, direct, impossible
