Forbidden Desire

Chapter 1

Katherine POV

Here I stand at 26 years old, about to take over the family business and establish relations with one of the many architectural business partners my father has. From what my father has told me, Nicholas Pendleton is a very important partner. The one thing that sticks in my mind is my father's warning: this man is someone you must be careful with, as he can be deceiving. I imagine a man in his late 60s, just like my father—almost bald, and possibly with a temper I don't want to deal with.

"Miss McAllister, Sir Pendleton will see you now," his secretary says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

As I walk towards his office, a wave of nervousness washes over me. I wonder why I'm so anxious, but the feeling intensifies as I reach his office door and prepare to knock.

"Come in!" he yells from inside. I enter the office, unsure of what to expect, and close the door behind me. Turning around, I take in the sight of his office.

The office is huge and modern, with a lot of white—too much for my taste. A large window offers an incredible view of Manhattan. Finally, I see him. His back is to me, and from what I can tell, he's around 5 feet 9 inches tall, with dark brown hair. He doesn't seem as old as I imagined. He's dressed in a black suit, tailored perfectly to his frame, revealing his muscles beneath.

He hasn't turned around yet, and my nerves are getting the best of me. Would he turn around already? After what feels like an eternity, I decide to speak.

"Sir Pendleton, my name is—" Just as I'm about to introduce myself, he turns around, and suddenly, my mind goes blank.

The man before me is clearly not older than 40. I was right about the suit—it's fitted to his frame. As I continue to look at him, I can't help but notice how handsome he is. His brown eyes are analyzing me, and he has a stubble with hints of gray. He seems to notice my nervousness, smirking slightly.

"Miss McAllister?" he speaks, and his voice is rough, raspy, and elegant. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Sir Pendleton," I reply, unable to hide my nervousness.

"Please, call me Nicholas. 'Sir' makes me feel old, though I am. But let's not talk about that," he says, his tone light.

"Are you the owner?" I ask, immediately realizing how stupid that sounds.

"Last time I checked, I was. Were you expecting someone older, on the verge of using a wheelchair?" he responds with a hint of sarcasm.

"No, I mean, Nicholas," I correct myself. "It's just that my father told me something very different. I honestly expected someone around his age."

"I see. So, your dad, Sir McAllister, is retiring and letting you take the reins of his business? I thought your brother would," he says, seemingly testing how much I can handle.

"Well, Nicholas, that was the plan initially. But Michael has a lot going on right now, and my father thought this would be a good experience for me," I explain.

"Uhm, okay. And how old are you?" he asks, his question seeming out of place.

"I'm 26 years old," I tell him.

"I'm 43, just for the record. Well, that would be all for now. I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning, Miss McAllister," he says, walking out from behind his desk and reaching for my hand, placing a kiss on top of it. "It will be a pleasure working with you." He returns to his desk.

"I'll see you first thing Monday morning," I reply, walking out of his office. 43 years old—he doesn't seem like it. "Okay, Katherine, get yourself together. He is basically your boss," I remind myself as I get into my car and head back to my apartment.