ter stepped out of the St. Regis, her mind still reeling from her encounter with Dominic Voss. The humid night air clung to her skin as she raised her arm to hail a cab, her fingers trembl

ide. Personal suicide. Her father would have a coronary if he knew. Which was exactly why she found herself standing outside Voss Tower at 7:58 PM the next evening, wearing a black dress that hugged every curve and heels that made her legs look endless. The doorman took one look at her and nodded her toward a private elevator. "Mr. Voss is expecting you." The elevator was all glass, offering a dizzying view of Manhattan's glittering skyline as it climbed. Elena adjusted her dress straps, wiped her suddenly damp palms on the sleek fabric. She'd prepared questions, rehearsed her approach. None of that mattered when the doors slid open to reveal Dominic Voss silhouetted against floor-to-ceiling windows, the city sprawled at his feet. He turned slowly, a tumbler of amber liquid in one hand, his gaze dragging over her like a physical touch. "You came." His voice wrapped around her, rich and dark as the whiskey he was drinking. Elena lifted her chin. "You knew I would." A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. "I did." He stepped closer, the scent of sandalwood and something uniquely masculine wrapping around her. When his fingers brushed her wrist as he took her coat, the contact sent an electric current up her arm. "Tell me, Elena," he murmured, his breath warm against her temple as he leaned in. "Did your father warn you about me?" Her breath hitched. So he knew exactly who she was. "He said you were ruthless." Dominic's laugh was low and dark, vibrating through her where their arms nearly touched. "He's right." His fingers traced the inside of her wrist, where her pulse fluttered wildly. "But I think you like that." Dinner was a surreal experience - filet mignon so tender it melted on her tongue, truffle risotto that tasted like sin, wine that probably cost more than her monthly rent. Dominic played the perfect host, refilling her glass before she could ask, anticipating her every need. It was when the dessert plates were cleared that the mask slipped. "You want an exclusive?" Dominic swirled his whiskey, the ice cubes clinking. "Fine. One interview. But my terms." Elena leaned forward, her elbows on the table. "Name them." "No questions about my family." His eyes locked onto hers. "Or yours." A direct hit. He knew exactly what story she was really after. Elena forced a sip of water p