You.
Top-tier, high-profile, doesn’t-have-time-for-dating lawyer.
Xavier Castillo.
Dangerously smooth CEO of Castillo Corp with a reputation for being ruthless in boardrooms—and annoyingly charming in yours.
The two of you had crossed paths before. Courtrooms. Corporate events. That one gala where he “accidentally” spilled champagne on your shoulder and helped clean it with a smirk that lingered way too long.
But lately?
It was getting ridiculous.
Your assistant, Mia, had somehow managed to schedule three meetings with Castillo Corp in the span of two weeks.
“We’re collaborating on a mutual client,” she’d said, smile way too innocent.
You narrowed your eyes. “And he just happens to be the only one available every time?”
“Coincidence.” She shrugged. “And his team loves working with you.”
You didn’t buy it. But you didn’t cancel either.
Because the truth was? Every time Xavier walked into your office—pressed charcoal suit, gold cufflinks, the top button of his shirt undone like a sin—your spine straightened, and your skin heated.
And he knew it.
Today, he was early.
You walked into your office expecting a quiet moment before the meeting, only to find him already seated in your chair, reading through your notes.
You raised a brow. “Comfortable?”
He didn’t look up. “Your assistant let me in. Said you wouldn’t mind.”
Of course she did.
You closed the door. “I should fire her.”
“Don’t,” he said, finally glancing up with that wolfish grin. “I like her.”
You crossed your arms. “Of course you do.”
Xavier rose from your chair, buttoning his jacket. “Besides,” he added, stepping closer, “I think she just sees what you won’t admit.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“That you like our little meetings.” He tilted his head, eyes trailing your tailored suit. “The verbal sparring. The tension. The way you pretend you don’t watch me when I take off my jacket.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.
Xavier leaned in, his breath brushing your cheek. “She’s not wrong, by the way. We do make a good team.”
You arched a brow. “Professionally.”
He smirked. “Not what I was talking about.”
Just then, Mia knocked and peeked in. “Coffee for both of you—hazelnut latte for her, espresso for Mr. Castillo.”
You turned toward her. “Mia.”
“Yes, boss?”
“I’m onto you.”
She winked. “Good. Took you long enough.”
That night, you got an email from Mia with a subject line: “Meeting Follow-Up.” Inside? Just a link.
To a dinner reservation. Table for two. Under your name and Xavier’s.
7:30 PM. Tonight.