Page 29 of Tempting the President

He said it’s “not safe” to leave, which is the kind of thing Eina L. Haze’s heroes growl before whisking heroines off to secret lairs. Except this is real life, and I’m no Charlize Theron-esque badass who can handle whatever Zio’s hiding.

What is he hiding, anyway?

A secret dungeon?

A stash of questionable business deals?

A girlfriend he forgot to mention?

My stomach twists at that last one, and I shove it down.No way.He kissed me like I was the only woman in the world.

But...am I, really?

I stop pacing, catching my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. My blouse is still slightly askew from the elevator, my bun unraveling like my composure.

“Get it together, Jayne,” I mutter. “You’re a professor, not a heroine about to stumble into a plot twist.”

Except I totally am.

Because there, behind a bookshelf of leather-bound tomes (who even owns those?), I spot a faint outline—a panel, maybe?

My inner romance nerd perks up. Secret doors are, like, the hallmark of an Eina L. Haze novel. In Dominated by the Biker, Leah found a hidden armory behind a bookcase, which led to her hero’s big reveal. I know that’s not a good enough reason to snoop (okay, there’s reallynogood reason to snoop at all), but...

What else is there to do?

I glance at the hallway where Patrizio and his too-handsome friends disappeared for their “business meeting.”

The penthouse is silent, save for the hum of the espresso machine I’m too intimidated to touch.

I’m sure Patrizio wouldn’t mind.

Right?

“Aaargh, Jayne, you’re an idiot,” I whisper, but my fingers are already brushing the bookshelf, searching for a latch.

My heart hammers as I find a small slot, barely visible, just big enough for... a keycard? I fumble in my bag, pulling out the keycard I spotted earlier on Patrizio’s desk when he was too busy kissing me senseless to notice. It’s sleek, black, with a goldS embossed on it—Steele, obviously. I slide it into the slot, and the bookshelf clicks, sliding open to reveal a gleaming chrome elevator.

Wow.

I mean,yikes!

This...is the part where I should remember that I’m a professor who knows better than to step into a secret elevator without telling anyone.

And yet...

As soon as the elevator doors slide open, that’s exactly what I end up doing, and I’m stepping inside before my brain catches up.

The panel has one button, unmarked, and I press it, my pulse racing like I’m about to uncover Patrizio’s dark secret. The elevator descends smoothly. Too smoothly, actually, like it’s designed to hide whatever’s below, and my mind starts spinning with possibilities.

Am I about to find...an underground casino?

Secret fight club?

Oh, please, anything but a red room of pain because I’mnotthat kind of heroine.

I mean I wish I could be, but since I’m still the type to cry when I need to go to the dentist...

Thanks, but no thanks.