Chapter 3 Across His Desk

The Blackwood AgroTech headquarters towered over the city like a monument to ambition. Their sleek glass panels reflected the morning sun, and the massive logo at the top gleamed with pride. Inside, employees moved with precision, every suit pressed, every step purposeful. The building itself seemed to hum with energy and light as if even the walls carried the weight of Jason Blackwood's presence.

Aira felt out of place the moment she stepped into the grand lobby. She smoothed the front of her blazer very well, clutching her presentation folder tighter than necessary. She had done client pitches before, but none in a building like this, and certainly not for the man whose eyes had lingered on her far too long at the gala the other night.

She reminded herself over and over: This is business, Aira. Keep it professional. Keep it excellent. Keep it distant.

"Ms Daniels?" A receptionist approached her with a polite smile. "Mr Blackwood will see you now."

She replied, "okay."

Before replying, Aira's stomach knotted. Her heels clicked too loudly against the polished marble floor and generated a noise as she followed the assistant to the elevator. Every second inside the lift stretched her unbearably. By the time the doors opened to the top floor, her palms were damp.

Jason was standing by the wide glass window of his office when she entered. The view was breathtaking-skyscrapers, highways, and beyond them, the faint outline of the harbour. But Aira barely noticed all that.

Because Jason turned, and the full weight of his gaze settled on her.

"Ms Daniels," he said smoothly, as though her name had been carved into his memory. "Thank you for coming."

"Mr. Blackwood." She forced a professional smile, though her pulse betrayed her calm facade.

He gestured toward the chair across from his desk. "Please. Sit."

The room was vast, every detail exuding wealth, excellence and control, mahogany shelves lined with awards, a desk polished to perfection, a cabinet of rare wines in the corner. The kind of office that didn't just say power, but declared it. And behind it all, the man himself: tall, composed, exuding authority that was both intimidating and magnetic.

Aira sat, keeping her back straight, her folder clutched like a shield. "I appreciate the opportunity to discuss how our firm can contribute to your campaign."

Jason's lips curved slightly. "Straight to business. I like that."

She opened her folder, carefully avoiding his eyes. But Jason leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "Tell me, Ms Daniels-did you enjoy the gala?"

Her pen stilled. That wasn't the question she had expected immediately. "It was... elegant."

"Elegant," he repeated, amused. "You didn't seem like someone easily impressed."

Aira met his eyes, heat prickling her skin. "And what exactly do I seem like, Mr. Blackwood?"

For a moment, the air between them thickened. Jason's gaze lingered, not with arrogance, but with something sharper, more intent. "Like someone who doesn't belong in a room full of masks. Someone who sees through the glitter."

Her breath caught, though she masked it with a cool expression. "That's a bold assumption for someone who barely knows me."

Jason's smile deepened, slow and deliberate. "Then perhaps I'd like to know you better."

The words hung in the air, heavier than any contract.

Aira swallowed, her mind screaming warnings. She needed to redirect before this spiraled into something she couldn't control. She tapped her folder. "Shall we go over the proposed campaign outline?"

Jason didn't argue. He leaned back in his chair, watching her as she began her presentation slides about brand image, corporate responsibility, and international markets. Her voice was steady, her points sharp. She spoke about community engagement, strategies for public trust, and long-term visibility. But she could feel his eyes on her the entire time, and it unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

At one point, she stumbled over a phrase and cursed herself silently. Jason didn't laugh, didn't interrupt. He just studied her in silence, as though every word out of her mouth was more revealing than the data on her slides.

When she finished, the room went quiet. She resisted the urge to fidget nor shake.

Finally, he said, "Impressive. Very impressive."

Relief flickered in her chest. "Thank you."

Jason rose from his chair, walking around the desk until he stood close enough that she had to tilt her head to look up at him. The scent of his lingered-something dark, masculine, disarming.

"But I have one condition."

Aira tensed. "Condition?"

Jason's eyes locked with hers, unwavering. "If we move forward with this campaign, I want you directly involved. Personally."

Her heartbeat stumbled. "That's... unusual. Normally, the firm-"

"I don't care about the firm." His tone softened, but his intent was clear. "I care about you."

For a moment, the world seemed to tilt. Aira's instinct screamed to run, to protect her carefully guarded secret. Yet a dangerous part of her wanted to believe in the sincerity in his voice.

She stood quickly, gathering her folder. "I'll... discuss the proposal with my team and get back to you."

Jason didn't stop her. But as she walked toward the door, he said quietly, "Don't run from me, Aira. I don't give up easily."

Her hand froze on the doorknob. She didn't look back. She tried to, but she couldn't. Because if she did, she feared she would drown in the pull of his gaze. And that which she was totally avoiding would happen.

Instead, she walked out, her steps quick and uneven, her heart pounding with the certainty of one thing: Jason Blackwood wasn't just interested in a business deal.

He was interested in her.

And no matter how she tried to frame it as business, every instinct inside her screamed that she had just stepped into dangerous territory.