Chapter 2

TWO

E mma squared her shoulders and walked into the lobby. She made it three steps before nearly colliding with a distinguished older man in an expensive suit.

“I am so sorry!” She steadied herself, automatically noting his strong bone structure and familiar genetic markers. Related to the Spectres? “I’m Dr. Emma Greene, here for an interview about the research position. I’m really excited about your work with genetic stability patterns, particularly the inherited trait preservation in certain family lines—” She caught herself gesturing enthusiastically. “And I’m probably not talking to the right person, am I?”

The man’s amused smile confirmed it. “Board meeting, I’m afraid. Reception is over there.” He pointed to a desk where a professional-looking woman was trying not to laugh.

Emma’s face burned. Of course, she’d tried to geek out about genetics with a board member. She made her way to the correct desk, only to be directed to the executive elevator.

The doors opened directly into a board meeting. Twenty faces turned to stare at her.

“Wrong floor!” she squeaked, jabbing buttons frantically.

That’s when she saw him.

Time stopped.

Lucas Spectre stood staring at her and Emma’s carefully organized scientific mind short-circuited. No photo had done him justice. He was tall, dark-haired, and radiated a presence that made her forget basic biological functions like breathing. His suit looked painted on, all perfect lines and sharp angles that somehow made him more devastating in person.

But it was his eyes that scattered her thoughts like loose electrons. They shifted from green to gold as he turned, landing on her with an intensity that sent heat rushing through her body. Something primitive and decidedly unscientific jolted through her nervous system.

Their gazes locked. The air felt charged like the moment before lightning strikes.

“Hypothesis,” Emma’s brain offered weakly. “I’m having a stress-induced hallucination caused by sleep deprivation and excessive caffeine consumption. Alternative hypothesis: his genetic structure is even more fascinating up close than the published data suggested.”

But hallucinations didn’t make your skin tingle or your heart perform statistical impossibilities. They didn’t look at you like they could see straight through your professional facade to the mess of attraction and nervous energy underneath. And they definitely didn’t have eyes that seemed to change color in response to emotional states - a genetic trait she’d never encountered in any research.

The elevator doors started to close. Emma jabbed at the open button, missed, and somehow hit every floor number instead.

“Smooth,” she muttered. “Very professional. Just add this to your growing list of graceful moments, right after trying to explain genetic inheritance patterns to the board member who probably thinks you’re a caffeinated disaster in heels?—”

“Hold the elevator.”

His voice was deep, rich, and did interesting things to her pulse rate that she desperately wanted to document for scientific purposes. Somehow, Lucas Spectre had crossed the room and stepped into the elevator before the door finished closing.

Suddenly the space felt too small, too warm, and charged with something Emma’s scientific mind couldn’t quantify.

He smelled amazing – something woodsy and masculine that probably shouldn’t be allowed in enclosed spaces. Up close, she could see the perfect symmetry of his features, the way his suit emphasized broad shoulders, and how his eyes definitely weren’t a natural color any genetics textbook had prepared her for.

“Dr. Greene.” He extended his hand with a slight smile that should be classified as a lethal weapon. “I believe we’re headed to the same place.”

Emma stared at his hand for a moment too long before remembering how human interaction worked. “Yes! Hi. I mean, hello. I’m Dr. Emma Greene. But you know that. Because you just said it. And I’m just going to stop talking now before I start analyzing the statistical improbability of your genetic markers.”

Their hands touched. Static electricity crackled between them, actual visible sparks that sent her papers flying everywhere.

“Sorry!” Emma dropped to her knees, gathering papers. “That’s just the transfer of electrons between surfaces, though the amplitude was unusually high which could indicate increased electromagnetic activity, possibly related to cellular energy patterns that might explain some of the anomalies I’ve noticed in your family’s genetic...” She looked up and lost her train of thought completely.

Lucas had knelt with her, gathering papers with inhuman grace. This close, she could see flecks of amber in his eyes, the strong line of his jaw, the way his mouth curved with barely contained amusement. Everything about him suggested genetic markers that defied normal human variation.

“Please,” he said, voice low and intimate in the enclosed space, “continue. You were saying something about anomalies in my family’s genetics?”

“I was?” Emma’s brain felt like it was operating at half capacity. “Right. Yes. Science. That’s why I’m here. Actually, I’ve made a breakthrough in understanding genetic stability patterns that might explain how certain families pass down consistent traits across generations. I mean—” She closed her eyes. “Can we pretend the last thirty seconds didn’t happen?”

His laugh was warm and rich, doing dangerous things to her already compromised nervous system. “I’d rather not. I find your enthusiasm refreshing. Tell me more about these stability patterns you’ve discovered.”

They stood, and Emma realized how close they were in the elevator. She could feel the heat radiating from him, see the way his pupils dilated slightly as he looked at her. Something primal recognized something in him, something that had nothing to do with science and everything to do with pure, raw attraction.

The elevator dinged. Emma jumped, clutching her research materials like a shield.

“After you,” Lucas gestured, and was it her imagination or did his voice sound rougher?

Emma’s legs somehow remembered how to walk. She felt his presence behind her like a physical touch, her body hyper-aware of his every movement. The rational part of her brain tried to analyze the response – elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, heightened awareness. The rest of her just wanted to turn around and see if he was affected too.

His office door closed behind them with a soft click that seemed to echo in her bones.

“Please, sit.” Lucas gestured to a leather chair across from his desk, but remained standing a moment longer, his eyes doing another slow sweep that made Emma forget basic motor functions.

Emma sank into the chair, crossing her legs and immediately uncrossing them when his gaze tracked the movement. She could do this. She was a professional scientist. Just because he looked like genetic perfection and moved like some kind of predator, and oh god, he was sitting now and leaning forward slightly and?—

“Your paper on genetic stability markers was fascinating.” His voice cut through her mental spiral. “Particularly your theories about hereditary trait preservation in stable bloodlines.”

Right. Science. She could talk about science. Science was safe. Science didn’t have eyes that changed color or a mouth that should come with a warning label.

“Thank you! Data suggests some genetic sequences remain practically unchanged through generations, almost like they’re protected by an unknown mechanism. It’s fascinating because normal DNA shows variation between generations, but these families—” She caught herself gesturing enthusiastically and nearly knocked over a very expensive-looking paperweight.

Lucas caught it with impossible reflexes, his hand brushing hers. The contact sent another jolt through her system, and Emma swore his nostrils flared like he was... scenting the air? She filed that observation away for later analysis.

“Sorry,” she managed. “I get excited about genetic discoveries. And apparently gravity becomes optional when I’m nervous. Not that you make me nervous. Well, you do, but in a good way. A professional way! Because of your work in genetics, which aligns perfectly with my research on hereditary trait preservation. Not because—” She forced herself to stop talking.

But instead of looking annoyed, Lucas smiled. Really smiled. The expression transformed his face from merely gorgeous to absolutely devastating. “Tell me about your breakthrough.”