Adrian Bennett had been preparing himself for this moment since he'd received the acceptance letter three weeks ago. An internship at Silvermoon Industries was like winning the lottery. Thousands applied, but only a select few were chosen each year. For someone like him, an orphan who'd scraped his way through college on scholarships and part-time jobs, this opportunity was everything.
He'd heard the stories, of course. Everyone had heard about the infamous ash-eyed elf who ruled the corporate world with an iron fist. Lysander Silvermoon was legendary, ruthless in business, cold as winter, and terrifyingly beautiful in the way that made grown men stutter and powerful women throw themselves at his feet. The rumors painted him as someone who crushed competitors without blinking and fired employees for breathing too loudly in meetings.
Adrian had spent hours researching the company, memorizing every detail about their financial reports and recent acquisitions.
He'd practiced his introduction in the mirror until his roommate threatened to throw a shoe at him. He'd even bought his only decent suit, secondhand, but clean and pressed, determined to make a good impression.
What he hadn't prepared for was this.
The door to the executive office had opened, and Adrian's carefully rehearsed words had died in his throat. Because standing in the doorway wasn't just the feared CEO of Silvermoon Industries. It was the most devastatingly handsome man Adrian had ever laid eyes on.
Lysander Silvermoon was tall, with a frame that spoke of both elegance and dangerous strength. His silver hair caught the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and those eyes... those eyes were like gray molten silver, beautiful enough to stop time.
Adrian felt his face flush hot as he stumbled through his introduction, hoping desperately that his voice didn't crack like a teenager's. "Mr. Silvermoon? I'm Adrian Bennett, your new intern. I'm so sorry for the wait, I know you must be incredibly busy..."
Stop this, he commanded himself fiercely, trying to ignore the way his heart was hammering against his ribs. This is your boss. Your terrifying, powerful, completely-out-of-your-league boss.
Besides, with a face like that, with an ethereal beauty like that, Lysander Silvermoon was undoubtedly into women. Probably the kind with generous curves and confidence that Adrian had never possessed. Not awkward, scrawny guys who'd been rejected by every man they'd ever worked up the courage to ask out.
The memory of his last attempt at dating made Adrian's stomach clench with familiar shame.
Mark from his economics class had laughed, actually laughed, when Adrian had nervously suggested coffee. "You're sweet, Adrian, but you're not really my type. I prefer guys with a little more... presence, you know?"
Presence. Right. Adrian was about as intimidating as a golden dragon baby, and he knew it.
Lysander stood frozen in the doorway for what felt like an eternity, his gray eyes locked on Adrian's face with an intensity that made every nerve ending in Adrian's body come alive. It was an intensity filled with warmth.
But then the moment shattered like glass.
The warmth, if it had ever been there at all, drained from Lysander's expression, replaced by the glacial professionalism Adrian had been expecting. The change was so abrupt it was like watching a door slam shut, and Adrian felt something twist painfully in his chest.
"Mr. Bennett." Lysander's voice was crisp, businesslike, giving nothing away. He moved to his desk. "You're late."
"I... I've actually been here since eight, sir. Your assistant—"
"I don't care what my assistant told you." Lysander didn't even look at him as he settled into his leather chair, already reaching for a stack of files. "When I say be here at a specific time, I expect you to be here and ready to work, not sitting around making excuses."
The dismissal stung more than it should have. Adrian had been here for two hours, organizing files and trying not to panic about meeting his new boss, but apparently, that didn't matter.
"Yes, sir. Of course. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't." Lysander's fingers moved across his computer keyboard. "There's a stack of acquisition reports on the conference table that need to be sorted by date and industry sector. After that, you'll find Rebecca has left you a list of calls that need to be returned and meetings that need to be scheduled. I expect everything completed by five PM."
Adrian glanced at the conference table and felt his heart sink. The stack of reports was easily three feet high, and it was already past ten in the morning. But he nodded anyway, grateful to have something concrete to focus on besides the way Lysander's shirt clung to his broad shoulders.
"Yes, sir. I'll get started right away."
"Good." Lysander still hadn't looked at him directly since that initial moment. "And Mr. Bennett?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I don't tolerate mistakes. Double-check everything."
Adrian swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Understood, sir."
He gathered up the first armload of files, hyperaware of every sound he made in the oppressive silence of the office. Lysander had already dismissed him completely, his attention focused entirely on whatever was on his computer screen.
Adrian scurried toward the door like a mouse fleeing a cat, his face burning with a mixture of embarrassment and something else he didn't want to name. Just before he reached the door, he risked one last glance back at his new boss.
Lysander was leaning back in his chair, one elegant hand pressed to his temple as if fighting off a headache. In that unguarded moment, he looked almost... troubled. Vulnerable, even.
But then Adrian blinked, and the mask was back in place.
He slipped out of the office as quietly as possible, closing the door behind him with hands that were definitely not trembling. Rebecca looked up from her desk, her kind eyes immediately reading the shell-shocked expression on Adrian's face.
"How did it go?" she asked gently.
"Fine," Adrian managed, though his voice came out slightly strangled. "He's... intense."
Rebecca's laugh held no humor. "That's one word for it. Don't take it personally, sweetie. He's like that with everyone."
Adrian nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Inside the office, Lysander stared at his computer screen without seeing a single word. His hands were clenched into fists on his desk, and there was a strange tightness in his chest that he couldn't identify.
Rebecca's soft knock interrupted his spiraling thoughts. "Mr. Silvermoon? Are you quite alright? You seem..."
"I'm fine," he cut her off sharply, though his voice sounded strange even to his own ears. "Perfectly fine."
But as he forced himself to focus on the quarterly projections displayed on his monitor, Lysander couldn't shake the image of warm brown eyes and that shy, devastating smile.
What was wrong with him?