Tempting | A Billionaire Boss Romance Book 1

Tempting begins The Boss Billionaire: Spencer Blackstone duet with a slow-burn, forbidden office romance. When ambitious Jada becomes Spencer Blackstone’s assistant, she enters the world of a ruthless billionaire boss whose secrets are as dangerous as his desire. Sparks fly, boundaries blur, and temptation proves impossible to resist.

The universe had been dropping hints to turn back, but here I am, heading to my new boss’s secluded estate in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I’m beyond exhausted—grimy skin, heavy eyelids, the works. At least the driver is silent; I couldn’t manage small talk even if my life depended on it.
I was supposed to arrive in Jackson Hole on Monday, but it’s now Wednesday. The delay? A small fire broke out during my Salt Lake City layover, grounding flights for nearly seven hours. Stuck with just six dollars to my name and a maxed-out credit card, I had no choice but to wait it out. When flights finally resumed, confirmed ticket holders took priority, leaving me stranded for two more days.
As I sat in that terminal, I faced three options. First: call my mother, Congresswoman Patricia Forte. But asking her for help is like striking a deal with Rumpelstiltskin—one favor always costs more than it’s worth. My dad wasn’t an option either; he’d only loop her in, and somehow, I’d end up doing the one thing I was desperate to avoid: calling Patricia Forte.
That left me with two choices—swallow my pride and call Spencer Blackstone, my new boss, or scrap the Wyoming job entirely and head back to New York City, where my best friend Hope would let me crash at her place rent-free until I found a new gig.
But the money… oh, the money…
After a media giant took over Caldwell Jamison, the PR firm where I used to work, and declared my position redundant, I’ve been living off savings. And that has been since January. Careful budgeting helped for a while, but now I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel.
Then I found a job listing for an executive assistant. The role was a considerable step down, but the pay was a game-changer. With no employer name disclosed, I applied through Top Tier Executive Headhunters. Surprisingly, I got the job—but only after signing an NDA did I learn who I’d be working for.
Last Friday, I got the call that sealed my fate.
“Is this Jada Forte?” a silken male voice asked.
I perked up. “Yes, may I ask who’s calling?” I kept my tone steady.
“This is Spencer Blackstone.”
My breath caught. “Yes, Mr. Blackstone.”
“Could you start in three days?”
My eyebrows shot up. His request caught me off guard. I expected to begin the Monday after next, which would’ve been perfect. I expect my final unemployment check next Friday. But starting this coming Monday meant I’d be traveling across the country broke. And I was about to insist we start having five thousand dollars in my account by next Friday.
“Yes, that works!” I confirmed, excitement bubbling up at the thought of finally leaving my broke days behind.
His next words hit like a gut punch. “You’ll need to relocate to Jackson Hole, Wyoming.”
My excitement turned to apprehension. “To Wyoming?”
“Ten thousand a week,” he replied, reading my hesitation like a seasoned negotiator.
I nearly spilled my lukewarm coffee. “Did you say ten thousand a week?”
“Yes,” he replied coolly as if that kind of money was a mere drop in the bucket for him. “But I expect a six-month commitment.”
Instantly, my mind crunched the numbers. Nearly a quarter of a million dollars in just six months. Without hesitation, I agreed. “Yes. I'll move to Wyoming.”
Initially, Mr. Blackstone had planned to arrange my flight, but an hour later, he called back, muttering something about an “account hiccup.” He asked if I could cover the trip upfront, assuring me of reimbursement upon arrival. “Okay,” I said, even though I should've admitted that I could barely afford it. I didn’t want to reveal my vulnerability.
With my last $200, I bought a $191 standby ticket. Hope drove me to the airport to save the subway fare, and I managed to snag a flight out of New York—until I hit Salt Lake City. On the first night, I almost secured a seat, but a late arrival bumped me. The next day, it happened again. The ticket agents apologized, claiming it was unprecedented, but by day three, I was still stuck.
With no other option, I forced myself to call Spencer for help. I relayed the chaos of the last 48 hours, then waited as his silence stretched uncomfortably.
“Hello?” I finally asked.
“You’re in Salt Lake City,” he stated in the same monotone voice he’d used before.
“Yes,” I replied, half hoping he’d fire me. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t called sooner—I was subconsciously sabotaging the job.
“I’ll call you back,” he said, then hung up.
His cold, detached tone lingered in my mind. Was there something wrong with a man who never varied his pitch?
Just come home where you belong, I imagined my mother’s voice saying.
Where is that? I asked the Patricia Forte living in my head.
With me, she snapped.