SEDUCTION AND STRATEGY
Of course he will, Isabella thought.
He always sees the ones he intends to use.
The door opened on motion sensors, and the first thing she noticed was the smell—cedarwood, expensive ink, and something darker. Then she saw him.
Damian Moretti was leaning against his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, the kind of man who made power look effortless. His eyes—storm gray, sharp as glass—studied her like a puzzle he intended to solve.
“Miss Voss,” he said, voice smooth, cultured, dangerous. “You’re either very confident or very naive to walk into my office looking like that.”