Charlotte's POV

I was elbow-deep in paperwork when Jean-Pierre swept into my office, that irritatingly gorgeous grin plastered across his unfairly handsome face.

"Zere you are ma belle" Jean-Pierre singsonged as he strode in.

I drawled without looking up from the stack of quarterly reports littering my desk. "Don't tell me you've come bearing more unsolicited romantic overtures. As tempting as another candlelit bouillabaisse sounds, I'll have to decline. Unlike some people, I actually have work to do."

Jean-Pierre tsked melodramatically as he claimed the chair opposite me, looking entirely too at home with his feet propped up on my desk. So much for professional boundaries.

"Such a suspicious mind, ma chérie," he tutted, shaking his head in feigned reproach. "One might zink you do not trust my intentions are purely...honorable."

I snorted indelicately, finally glancing up to fix him with a flat stare. "About as honorable as a drunken sailor, I'd wager. What's your game this time, Casanova?"

Rather than rising to my barbed tone, Jean-Pierre merely leaned back with calculating nonchalance, examining the manicured tips of his fingers.

"I may 'ave...persuaded a certain esteemed colleague to reconsider your involvement in ze...Sakura proceedings," he said at last, his tone brimming with studied indifference.

The pen slipped from my suddenly numb fingers as the implications struck me like a sucker punch to the gut. No...he couldn't possibly mean—

"Max agreed to let me on the Sakura deal?" I couldn't quite mask the incredulous eagerness that crept into my voice.

Jean-Pierre's full lips curved into a slow, predatory smile that really should have gotten him prosecuted. "Indeed. It seems zat despite his...reluctance regarding sharing your assets, he simply could not resist ze opportunity to plumb zeir full depths once properly motivated."

My cheeks flooded with traitorous warmth at his blatantly suggestive phrasing. Honestly, was there anything this man didn't find a way to make sound filthy?

Snatching up a crumpled wad of scratch paper, I whipped it across the desk, aiming for that intolerably smug grin. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Jean-Petit," I teased, my tone laced with playful reproach. "Some of us actually focus on doing our jobs instead of flirting our way through life."

As the words left my mouth, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement. Here I was, chastising Jean for his relentless flirtation, while I had been engaging in far more... intense encounters with Max. The irony wasn't lost on me, and the thrill of our secret moments together sent a shiver down my spine.

Jean-Pierre dodged the projectile with insouciant ease, not even ruffled. "My my, such violence. Although I suppose I cannot blame you for your... eagerness. Working in such close proximity to Maximilian and moi for an extended period?" He tsked again, shaking his head slowly. "It will surely test ze limits of your restraint, ma chérie."

My jaw clenched hard enough to grind enamel. Damn if the insufferable Frenchman didn't have a point.

The thought of being involved in Max's make-or-break international deal made my pulse thunder with a dangerous blend of excitement and trepidation. The stakes were incredibly high, and the pressure to perform was immense. Adding Jean-Pierre's delightfully charming presence to the mix threatened to obliterate my senses entirely.

"I think I can handle myself just fine around you and our esteemed CEO, thanks," I countered, raising my chin in a show of bravado I only halfway felt. "The real question is whether you or Max are ready to handle all this up-close-and-personal time with...moi."

Jean-Pierre barked out a full-bellied laugh at that, looking both delighted and vaguely awed. "Incroyable! You, ma chérie, are a force to be reckoned with, aren't you? Perhaps zat is exactly why he invited you aboard zis...perilous voyage in ze end."

Perilous didn't even begin to cover it, I mused as I watched Jean-Pierre rise with that inexplicable grace of his. The man moved like he was constantly on the prowl, looking for his next source of delicious torment to chase. "You owe me a date, ma belle."

As he made for the door, Jean-Pierre paused to look back over his shoulder, mouth curved into one final taunting smirk. "He expects to see you in his office"

"He does?" I ask mischieviosly.

"Oui." His eyes glinted with wicked challenge. "Do try to go easy on Maximilian, won't you? We wouldn't want him to experience ze...utter ruination only a woman like you could incite, now would we?"

With a careless wink and a swagger I absolutely did not track with my gaze, Jean-Pierre Duvall exited my office, leaving me to obsess over the implications of his words.

Date and ruination, huh? Well, if the shoe fit...

Sinking back into my chair, I allowed a slow, curving smile to spread across my own lips as excitement began to hum along my nerves. If Max thought for one second he could keep me on a short, professional leash while working together on this career-defining deal, he had another thing coming.

Let the ruination begin.

Max's POV

I sat rigid behind my desk, hands steepled before me as I wrestled with an agonizing decision. The weight of Jean-Pierre's words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint scent of leather and polished wood that permeated my office.

'Don't punish yourself forever...Don't punish her...Kathrine wouldn't have wanted that for you.'

His plea resurfaced the grief I thought I'd buried long ago. The loss of Kathrine to him, their happiness cut tragically short - it all came flooding back. Now, I faced the specter of history repeating itself in the cruelest way.

Charlotte Bennett had awakened an all-consuming desire within me that made any feelings I had for Kathrine pale in pitiful comparison. My Charlotte, whose smiles and casual intimacy with Jean-Pierre last night had ignited a fear so primal it threatened to consume me.

I closed my eyes, recalling the undeniable connection between them at the Pemberton Gala - the first time I snapped, overwhelmed by an uncontrollable need to claim Charlotte as mine alone. The memory of her in that shimmering gown, laughing at something Jean-Pierre said, sent a fresh wave of jealousy coursing through me.

What if I was cursed to relive that nightmare? To watch the woman who had unlocked such ferocious desires and vulnerabilities in me ultimately choose another man just as before? The thought alone was enough to make my chest constrict painfully.

No, I could not afford to be shattered into oblivion like that again. It would be a death sentence.

A gentle knock at the door pulled me from my brooding. I looked up to see Charlotte step into my office, all tawny grace and defiant curves. My gaze instinctively dropped to the swell of her lips before I recovered enough to meet her eyes.

"I trust Monsieur Duvall informed you of my decision to allow your participation in the Sakura Proceedings?" I kept my voice neutral, fighting against the awareness of her nearness.

"He did." Her tone was even, but I detected a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "He also noted you seemed...reluctant to have me so closely involved."

I held her stare, my grip on the armrests tightening imperceptibly. "The Sakura deal is high-stakes. I need my team operating at peak focus." I allowed my gaze to deliberately rake over her, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the slight catch in her breath. "Demanding positions such as these allow little room for...unnecessary distractions."

Charlotte's clever eyes danced over my features with unsettling perception. She took a step closer, the scent of her perfume - a heady mix of jasmine and something uniquely her - threatening to overwhelm my senses.

"Is that what you're afraid of, Max?" she asked, her voice dropping to a lower, smokier register that strummed my baser impulses. "That I'll prove too much of a...distraction?"

The loaded silence that followed her question hung thick in the air, taut as a tripwire. My jaw tightened as I fought to maintain control, the tempest of conflicting emotions roiling within me.

"Distraction or not," I began, my voice a rough-edged growl, "you have a job to do, Miss Bennett. One that requires your full attention and dedication."

Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous mix of amusement and challenge. "And if I can handle both the job and said... distractions?" she teased, taking another slow, deliberate step closer.

My pulse quickened as the space between us shrank, her presence overwhelming my senses. I needed to regain control, to remind both of us why we were here. "Then prove it," I said, my tone low and intense. "Show me that you can balance the demands of this project with the complications of our...partnership."

Charlotte's lips curved into a knowing smile, and she tilted her head slightly, a gesture that was both inquisitive and provocative. "And what if I manage to do just that, Max? What then?"

I took a measured breath, fighting the urge to close the remaining distance between us. The air between us felt charged, crackling with unspoken desires and challenges. "Then we'll both have our answer," I replied, my voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of longing. "And I'll know that you are as committed to this 'Firm' as much as I am."

"Until then, I'm hoping to regain a professional perspective on the matter." I stated, trying to convince myself as much as her.

"Is that so?" The muscle feathered in her jaw - her own telltale sign she inwardly battled conflicting impulses akin to my own. When I didn't immediately respond, she shook her head, seeming to deflate somewhat. "For someone who prides himself on being so unflinchingly decisive, you can be dreadfully unclear when it suits you," she said, an edge creeping into her tone.

I clenched my teeth, her barb striking dangerously close to the truth about my recent hot-and-cold behavior towards her. The urge to pull her close warred with my need to maintain distance, to protect myself from potential heartbreak.

Before I could formulate a reply, she continued, her voice emerging quieter but laced with unmistakable intensity. "For someone who insists on maintaining control of every scenario...you're going about securing this particular contingency in an appallingly inefficient manner."

The weighted phrasing - the implication that I mishandled the tenuous situation between us - sliced straight through me like her words were a literal scourge against my egregiously upended restraints. This maddening, brilliant siren had a proclivity for unraveling me more completely than anyone before.

Before I could formulate a reply, I acted on the blazing impulse consuming me. In one fluid motion, I rose from my chair and closed the distance between us. My fingers traced along the taut line of Charlotte's jaw as I pulled her flush against me, her back arching instinctively into my embrace.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Charlotte," I murmured, letting my lips graze the delicate shell of her ear. I felt her shudder slightly, her breath catching. "Are you certain your...loyalties won't be divided?"

I felt her tense at the pointed implication of her intimacies with Jean-Pierre last night. A flicker of guilt passed through her eyes, quickly replaced by defiance. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the staccato rap against my office door sliced through the tension like a whip-crack.

Both our gazes snapped toward the interruption. I reluctantly stepped back, immediately missing the warmth of her body against mine.

"This isn't over," I stated in a low, weighted tone as I moved behind my desk once more, attempting to regain my composure.

Charlotte's chest rose and fell rapidly, her eyes glittering with a mixture of defiance and banked desire as a slender, honey-blonde woman in impeccably tailored couture sliced inside without preamble.

An icy chill instantly permeated the atmosphere as the woman's glacial presence commanded the room. Charlotte visibly straightened under the imperious scrutiny, her professional mask sliding back into place with practiced ease.

"Miss Bennett," I said evenly, wariness flickering in my gaze as it met the newcomer's. "I expect to see a draft summary of your Sakura notes ready to review with the team by tomorrow morning."

The woman's perfectly arched brows rose infinitesimally as she appraised Charlotte. Her next words emerged with a polished, merciless clarity.

"Mr. Pemberton, I apologize for the intrusion. I'm afraid a last-minute complication has emerged that will require your immediate attention."

She turned her penetrating stare back towards Charlotte. "Miss Bennett, would you kindly clear his calendar for the next three days?"

I frowned slightly at my "benefactor", her expression one of veiled urgency. While the interruption was highly unexpected, her tone left no doubt about the seriousness of the matter. A surge of frustration welled up inside me at the timing, but I knew better than to question her.

Charlotte, still lingering by the door, shot me a questioning glance before nodding once, seemingly recognizing the shift in atmosphere.

"Of course, Miss," she replied crisply, already pulling out her phone to adjust my schedule. "I'll have his affairs prioritized accordingly."

With a final inscrutable look between Charlotte and myself, my "benefactor" inclined her head. "Excellent. We have much to discuss, Mr. Pemberton."

As Charlotte made her exit, I couldn't help but feel the unresolved energy still simmering between us like a pot about to boil over. While the disruption was unsettling, it also provided a temporary reprieve from the confrontation I knew we would inevitably be revisiting soon enough.

For now, I had no choice but to turn my attention to the crisis at hand, resolute in riding out this torturous holding pattern until Charlotte definitively revealed where her heart, body, and convictions truly belonged. The thought of the coming days, separated from her yet knowing she would be working closely with Jean-Pierre, sent a fresh wave of jealousy coursing through me.

I steeled myself, pushing down the tumultuous emotions threatening to overwhelm me. There would be time to deal with Charlotte and Jean-Pierre later. Right now, I had a crisis to manage, and I couldn't afford any distractions - no matter how alluring they might be.