Chapter Two

Jenna

Access Denied

"Shoot!" I mutter under my breath as frustration bubbles in my chest.

It's the sixth time I've been denied access to the company's system. At this point, I don't know whether to be offended or impressed. I've never had such a hard time getting into any company's system, but then again, I've never tried to infiltrate a medical company before. It's been a week since I started working at MedPlus and I expected to have gotten my work done by now but here I am, stuck running errands for other people. I've tried every trick up my sleeve, but nothing seems to work. The company's security protocols are on a whole other level, designed to test my prowess as a hacker

Tapping my fingers impatiently on my desk, I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, then pause to look around the room for the thousandth time. I know that no one is watching because everyone is usually out of the office for lunch breaks or meetings at this time, but it doesn't hurt to be extra careful.

Pushing aside my paranoia, I flex my finger and get to work again and once again, I'm denied access. I close my eyes, groaning loudly in frustration. A true genius must have written this code, I've never been unable to get past the first line of defense.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone entering the office. I quickly minimize my screen and glance up to see Ryan's freckled-faced secretary walk in. She's gorgeous, as expected of a billionaire CEO's secretary, graceful, and impeccably dressed.

She stops in front of my desk, her expression blank as usual. "Good afternoon, Miss Henson."

"Good afternoon," I reply, keeping my tone even while racking my head for a viable excuse if she queries why I didn't go on lunch break with the others.

"You've been assigned to stay back after hours to assist in a meeting on the executive floor," she says in a flat tone, her gaze unwavering as they bore into my soul.

For a moment, I wonder if she has something against me or if she is always so… frosty. Could she suspect my motives for working here?

"All right," I say, trying to hide my surprise at the unexpected assignment. "I'll make sure to be prepared."

"Be punctual," she adds. "The meeting is scheduled to start precisely at 6 p.m."

"I will be," I assure her, wondering what kind of meeting would require my presence so soon after starting this new job.

"Good," she says, giving me a curt nod. "Make sure to check your email and prepare the necessary files for the meeting. Mr. Anders doesn't tolerate sloppiness."

"Of course," I say with a small nod

Without another word, she turns and walks away, her heels clicking softly against the floor. I watch her leave, my mind racing. Staying after hours for a meeting on the executive floor could provide an opportunity for me to gather information or access parts of the system that were previously off-limits. It could also mean I'll be under closer scrutiny than before. It's a tough call, either way.

For the rest of the afternoon, I try to go over dossiers for the meeting. I can barely understand the medical jargon, but I keep my eyes glued to my computer screen, taking in as much information as my brain can retain. As the time gets closer, I can't seem to help the anxiety bubbling in my chest. I don't know if it's the thought of sitting through a meeting with a bunch of executives, including Ryan Anders. I haven't seen him around after running head-on into him in the hallway on my first day. My skin flushes with embarrassment at the memory of how I'd stumbled over my words and literally ran off after. His piercing gaze and commanding presence had rattled me more than I'd care to admit.

Get it together, Jenna!

I glance at my watch, taking a deep breath when I realize it's almost time for the meeting. I gather the files and notes I've prepared, double-checking everything to ensure I didn't miss anything. With the materials in hand, I rise from my desk and make my way to the executive floor. My heart seems to beat faster with every step I take. The closer I get, the bigger my urge to turn around and run grows.

"I can do this," I mutter to myself, letting out a shaky breath as I stop in front of the boardroom. "You've got this, Jenna."

I push the door open and, as I step into the meeting room, I'm surprised to see Ryan standing inside, his arresting brown eyes boring directly into mine. I freeze, my heart slamming unexpectedly hard against my rib cage.

He looks like he literally just stepped off the back cover of a fashion magazine with his imposing tall frame and face that seems chiseled to perfection by a master sculptor. If Adonis were to come to life, I'm sure he'd look exactly like Ryan Anders.

"Would you like me to pose for a picture, Miss Henson? It'd last longer." He asks quietly. His voice is quiet, but holds undeniable authority. He moves slightly away from the desk where he was reclining and it dawns on me all over again how tall he really is. The large boardroom suddenly feels too small.

My throat suddenly goes dry. "What?" I ask blankly, unable to make any sense of his words.

His deep brown eyes flash with irritation. He mutters something under his breath, most likely a curse word, and then he arches a perfectly carved brow at me. "If you're going to stand there and stare at me all day, you might as well take a photo and get it over with.

Heat floods my cheeks at the realization that I was caught staring at him. "I- I'm sorry, sir,"

I mutter, quickly stepping inside and closing the door behind me.

"Where's your laptop?" He asks, glancing from the files in my hands to my face.

"What laptop?"

I wished he'd stop staring at me with such intensity… It's like for some reason, he's intentionally trying to unnerve me. And it's working.

"Are you slow, Miss Henson, or just plain clueless about your duties?" He asks in a sharp tone, his eyes flaring with impatience. "As an office assistant, your main duty in this meeting is to take minutes and you can't do that without your laptop now, can you?"

I feel a surge of defensiveness in his tone, but I force myself to remain calm. What a jerk!

I've read a lot of negative blog articles about him but I'm not one to judge others based on press opinions. Now though, I'm inclined to believe everything written about him. I've never met a more arrogant, condescending man. Of course, I have no problem doing notes for the meeting—maybe I'm at fault for forgetting to bring a laptop—but he doesn't need to be an ass about it.

"I'm not slow or clueless, Mr. Anders," I reply, keeping my tone even despite the anger boiling in my chest. "I was told to bring the files, and I didn't realize I needed my laptop too."

Ryan raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "You didn't realize? That's not very reassuring, Miss Henson. This is a high-stakes meeting, and I need someone competent to take minutes."

I feel a sting from his words, but I try to focus on my breathing to keep myself from bursting. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll go get a laptop from the IT department. " I say, turning to leave but his voice stops me.

"Great thinking, Miss Henson," he says with a sarcastic scoff. "But I'm sure you know that no one will be there because most everyone's already left for the day. Instead, go to my office and grab my laptop. It's already set up and ready to go."

I nod curtly, trying to hide my frustration. Spinning around, I march away from his suffocating presence. I practically stomp my way to his office, feeling a sense of indignation at his condescending tone. I never thought I'd meet a bigger jerk than Henry, but Ryan takes the crown. His devastating good looks only go so far to compensate for his terrible personality. I used to wonder how Henry managed to convince anyone to build a business with him, but after meeting Ryan Anders, I can see why they were a good fit; the two of them deserve each other.

As I enter his office, I'm struck by the sleek, modern decor and the stunning views of the city skyline. But I quickly return my attention to the task at hand. I spot his laptop on the desk and grab it, pushing aside the feeling of resentment that's building inside me as I quickly work on installing a bug in the hard drive.

For now, I'll play the part of the incompetent assistant, just until I accomplish my mission. After that, Ryan Anders can burn in hell for all I care.

Chapter Three

Ryan

I stare pensively at the bustling streets of Seattle beyond the large windows of my company's boardroom, but my mind isn't on the magnificent view. Instead, it's consumed by the thoughts of Jenna Henson. For some reason, I still can't get her out of my head. Having her taking notes for me at the meeting last night only reinforced my need for her—she keeps up with everything I throw at her, and I love it. I want her out of my life, but I also can't bear the idea of never seeing her again.

I wasn't surprised when my private investigator called to confirm that Jenna was indeed Henry's stepsister, but I couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that came with the confirmation. It could be a coincidence that she came to work at MedPlus, but I'm not convinced. There's something about her, a shrewdness that I've never seen in a woman before… It's the awareness in those sharp green eyes as she takes in everything around her, every single detail while pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. There's something subtly sexy about that gesture and sometimes I find myself wondering what it'd be like to slide those glasses off her face and feel the full intensity of those intelligent green eyes on me while I trace the contours of her face, slowly…

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts and I turn around in time to see Jenna walks through the door. For a moment, my breath ceases in my throat. She's wearing one of those damn pencil skirts that accentuates her hips, paired with a crisp white blouse that compliments her pale skin. Her long dark hair, as usual, is tied up in a messy bun, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose, giving her the air of a nerdy temptress.

"You're late," I say, my voice sounding curter than I intended.

"I'm sorry, sir," she replies in that calm tone that makes me want to ruffle her feathers. "I had a few tasks to catch up on."

"Oh, really?" I say, jamming my hands into my pocket as I slowly lock my eyes on hers. "I would assume that a task given to you by the CEO should be your top priority," I say, advancing slowly until I'm standing directly in front of her. "Don't you think so, Miss Henson?"

"I- yes, sir, you're absolutely right," she says, holding my gaze, her green eyes brimming with apology and something mischievous I can't quite place.

My intrigue gives way to something stronger as the dominant part of me wants to grab her and kiss her senseless. I want to see her eyes change from being full of apology to begging me for more. I want to rattle her and watch her restraint slip away; I want to know she craves me as much as I crave her.

Fortunately, the door opens just as I'm about to give in to the crazy urge to pull her into my arms and seal my mouth over hers. Grant Den, my chief technology officer, and three other executives walk in.

"Good afternoon, everyone," I greet them, keeping my tone even. "Thank you for joining us. Shall we commence?"

The executives exchange polite greetings before taking their seats around the table. As the meeting starts, I glance in Jenna's direction, but she pointedly avoids my gaze, keeping her expression blank as she shares refreshments with everyone. When she gets to Grant, he says something to her, and she smiles. I suddenly feel a tightness in my chest as I watch them exchange words in low tones.

How can she smile at another man like that when she looks at me with nothing but timidness?

I watch her walk away from him, my hands fisting under the desk at Grant's lingering gaze. That sly bastard.

My hands are still tightly fisted when she reaches my side of the table. Her soft flowery scent crowds my senses and it's taking every bit of control in me not to throw her over my shoulder and take her back to his office, lay her over my lap, pull down that damn provocative skirt and spank her naked ass until she begs me not to stop. I want to punish her for smiling at Grant, then reward her for being so fucking gorgeous.

What the fuck is up with me?

I've never felt this out of control before, my emotions running wild in a whirlwind of conflicting desires. But there's something about Jenna… She gets under my skin, making me want to break free from my usual restraints.

As she hands me a bottle of water, our fingers touch, and I feel a jolt of electricity run through my body. I look up at her, and for a moment, our eyes lock. I see a flicker of something in her gaze, something that looks like a response, but she quickly looks away, hurrying on to the next person.

"Mr. Anders?" Grant calls, his deep voice piercing through my hazy thoughts.

I snap back to attention, looking away from Jenna's retreating figure. I can sense the subtle glances exchanged around the table, the unspoken shock at my momentary lapse in attention.

"Yes, Mr. Den?" I ask, trying to sound casual despite the embarrassment coursing through my veins

"Mr. Farrell asked for your thoughts on leveraging targeted digital marketing campaigns to reach our key demographics effectively," Grant supplies, doing nothing to hide the arrogant smirk tugging at his lips.

I might just fire the cheeky bastard one of these days.

"That's a great idea," I say, looking at the visual representation on the screen. "Show me the numbers from the last three years."

The rest of the meeting is a blur as I struggle to keep my focus on what's being said. Try as I may, my mind keeps going back to Jenna and it's taking every iota of my self-control not to look at her.

This doesn't make any sense… I barely know her, and her intentions are questionable; the mere fact that she's related to Henry is a fucking red flag. There are so many reasons I shouldn't pursue her, but I want her. It doesn't make any sense… Whatever it is, though, it needs to stop and the only way that can happen is to get rid of her.

The sooner the better.

***

The instant I get into my office, I grab the telephone and dial the temp agency's number. A woman with a nasal voice picks up and quickly connects my call to the director's office the moment she hears my name.

The executive director of the temp agency, Tom Carson, picks on the second ring, his eager-to-please laughter ringing annoyingly in my ears.

"I'm surprised to hear from you personally, Mr. Anders," Tom says after we exchange pleasantries. "How may I help you?"

I hesitate, trying to find the right words to articulate my thoughts. "I was wondering if it's possible to replace the temp you sent over last time."

"Do you mean Jenna Henson?" Tom asks, sounding perplexed.

"Yes. How soon can a replacement be sent?"

"I'm sorry, but may I ask why?" Tom asks and I can almost imagine his bushy brows wrinkling in confusion. "As far as I know, your HR department sent a report just yesterday about her excellent performance at the company. I must say I'm surprised you're asking for her to be replaced."

"It's not that she isn't a good worker, it's just…" I trail off, wondering how to explain to the man that even though Jenna Henson is my ex-business partner's stepsister, and I doubt she's up to any good, I'm attracted to her and constantly thinking about what it'd be like to throw her over my desk and fuck the living shit out of her. How do I explain to Tom Carson that I need her out of my space before I lose control and do something that I might end up regretting?

"She doesn't seem like a good fit for the position," I finish lamely. "I went through her resume and she's over-qualified for the job."

Tom remains quiet for a while, as if carefully thinking about his next words, then he clears his "I understand what you mean, Mr. Anders but Miss Henson is an excellent worker, and I don't see any reason you should let her go just yet. How about you let her work until the end of the month?

If she still doesn't seem like a good fit then, we'll send a replacement."

"Fine, Tom," I say reluctantly. "She can stay until the end of the month. But if I still feel like she's the wrong fit, she's gone."

"Thank you, Mr. Anders," Tom says, sounding relieved. "I appreciate your understanding. And who knows, you might find that Jenna grows on you."

I grunt, feeling a sense of unease. I have a feeling that's exactly what's going to happen. And that's exactly the problem.

"Thanks, Tom. I'll talk to you soon," I say, hanging up the phone.

I lean back in my chair, feeling frustrated and trapped. I need to get a grip on myself. I can't get too wrapped up in these confusing emotions when my company is at stake. If Henry indeed sent Jenna here, then there's a possibility she plans to do some damage to the company, and I need to keep a close eye on her.

But how can I do that without blowing my cover?

Suddenly, an idea pops into my head, like a lightbulb; I'm going to seduce Jenna Henson! I'm going to make her fall for me, so hard that she'll spill all of Henry's plans, and then I'm going to get revenge.

The thought sends a thrill through me, and I can't help but smile to myself. Seduce Jenna, get her on my side, and use her to get back at Henry. It's a brilliant plan, and I can't wait to put it into action. I'm a master in the art of seduction, a naive nerd like Jenna Henson has no chance. If Henry has decided to go low by setting me up with his sister, I'll go lower to destroy them both.

I lean forward in my chair, my mind racing with strategies and tactics. I'll start by apologizing and calling a truce. Then I'll charm my way into her heart, gain her trust, and then slowly reel her in. I'll make her feel special, wanted, and needed. And once she's hooked, I'll use her to get the information I need to take down Henry and his plans.

I feel a welcome surge of excitement and anticipation. Pursuing Jenna Henson is going to be a game, an intriguing challenge. I haven't felt so excited in a long time. With a newfound sense of purpose, I stand up and walk over to the window, looking out at the city skyline, an unconscious smile tugging at my lips; the amazing scene beyond my window has suddenly regained its allure.