Madison
The workday passed in a blur of meetings, phone calls, and emails. I split my time between my PA duties outside Alexander’s office and my project manager responsibilities downstairs, juggling both roles with increasing confidence. The Manhattan Project was gaining momentum, with Herbert Hayes proving to be an invaluable addition to the team.
By six o’clock, I was back at my desk outside Alexander’s office, finishing up some correspondence, when my phone buzzed with a text.
Alexander: Done for the day. Meet me in the garage in 10.
I frowned at my screen. No “please,” no explanation of where we were going. Just a command, as usual. I considered texting back something snarky but decided against it. Instead, I shut down my computer and gathered my things.
In the elevator down to the garage, I checked my reflection in the mirrored walls, smoothing a hand over my
hair.
Alexander was waiting by his car, his suit jacket draped over one arm, tie loosened, and sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. He looked more relaxed than I’d seen him in days.
“Ready?” he asked as I approached.
“For what, exactly?” I stopped in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t mention any plans for this evening.”
“That’s because I didn’t have any until an hour ago.” He opened the passenger door of his car. “Get in.”
I stared at Alexander, raising an eyebrow. “Are you kidnapping me, Mr. Knight?”
His lips curved into that infuriating smirk. “It’s not kidnapping if you get in willingly.”
“That sounds exactly like something a kidnapper would say.” I crossed my arms, fighting a smile.
“Madison.” His voice dropped lower, sending a shiver down my spine. “Get in the car.”
I pretended to consider it for a moment longer before sliding into the passenger seat. “Fine. I’ll wait until we reach our mysterious destination before I decide whether to scream for help.”
Alexander chuckled as he closed my door and walked around to the driver’s side. The car purred to life beneath us, and he navigated smoothly out of the garage.
“No driver today?” I asked, noticing James’s absence.
“I wanted privacy.” His hand found my knee, squeezing lightly. “Just us.”
We drove out of the city, the concrete jungle gradually giving way to more greenery. I watched Alexander’s profile as he drove, the strong line of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows as he concentrated on the
road.
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“Are you going to give me any hints about where we’re going?” I asked after about thirty minutes.
“No.” His hand slid higher on my thigh, just beneath the hem of my skirt. “But I promise you’ll like it.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t push his hand away. “Your confidence borders on arrogance, you know that?”
“Borders?” He glanced at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I crossed that border years ago, Madison.”
We turned onto a private road lined with tall pines. The pavement curved around a bend, and suddenly, a stunning lake appeared before us, its surface glittering in the evening sun. On the shore stood a modern glass and wood structure that looked like something from an architectural magazine.
“Holy shit,” I breathed as Alexander pulled up to the house. “Is this yours?”
“One of my properties.” He cut the engine. “I don’t come here often enough.”
The house was breathtaking, with all clean lines and floor–to–ceiling windows that reflected the lake and surrounding forest. A spacious deck extended over the water, complete with outdoor furniture and what looked like a hot tub at the far end.
Alexander led me inside, his hand at the small of my back. The interior was just as impressive as the exterior, with an open concept, minimalist furniture in neutral tones, a massive stone fireplace, and a kitchen that would make professional chefs weep with envy.
“This is…” I trailed off, taking it all in. “Incredible.”
“Come.” Alexander took my hand, leading me through the house to the deck. A table had been set up overlooking the lake, complete with candles and wine glasses. “Dinner should be ready.”
“You planned this?” I couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice.
“I called ahead. The chef prepared everything and left just before we arrived.” He pulled out a chair for me. “Sit.”
I sat, watching as Alexander opened a wine cooler and extracted a bottle. He poured the wine, a rich burgundy that matched my lingerie. He handed me a glass, and I sipped, savoring the wine’s smooth, complex flavor.
He disappeared into the house, returning moments later with two covered plates. When he lifted the lids, I found perfectly seared scallops with a vibrant puree and microgreens.
“This looks amazing,” I said, picking up my fork.
“Try it.” Alexander watched as I took my first bite, his gaze intense.
The scallop melted in my mouth, buttery and delicate. I couldn’t help the small moan of pleasure that escaped
- me.
Alexander’s eyes flashed. “I love those sounds you make,” he said, his voice rough. “Though I prefer when I’m the direct cause.‘
Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “The food is excellent. You should try it instead of watching me eat.”
He smirked but began eating his meal. We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes; the only sounds were
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the gentle lapping of water against the shore and distant birdsong.
“Why did you bring me here?” I finally asked.
Alexander took his time answering, sipping his wine. “I needed a break from the city. From the constant scrutiny.”
“And you wanted company?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Not just any company.” His eyes held mine. “Yours.”
Something warm unfurled in my chest. I looked away, focusing on the spectacular view. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Yes,” he agreed, but when I glanced back, he wasn’t looking at the lake. He was looking at me.
After dinner, Alexander cleared our plates and returned with dessert, dark chocolate mousse topped with fresh
berries.
“You have a sweet tooth,” I observed as he dug into his portion with obvious enjoyment.
“Among other appetites.” His gaze traveled over me slowly, deliberately.
I shifted in my seat, suddenly very aware of the lingerie beneath my clothes. “You certainly don’t hide your intentions.”
“Why would I?” He leaned forward. “We both know what I want, Madison.”
I swallowed hard, my spoon suspended halfway to my mouth.
“And what’s that exactly?” I managed to ask, my voice steadier than I felt.
“You. Preferably naked and wet.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, but I refused to look away. “Is that all I am to you? A body to fuck?”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
