Page 24 of Ruthless Wars

I’m dead.

Chapter Fourteen

Margot

The conference room is crowded. Men and women in varying degrees of gray and blue suits swarm the long table, with two women at the far end mirroring my dream team of Jean and Evie.

The murmured discussions quiet as soon as we enter. The sudden silence is unnerving. As if the hours of glorious sex that happened just hours earlier are written all over our faces.

Convinced it's all in my head, I grab the seat waiting for me, flanked on both sides by a dozen of the best and brightest of the Long Multinational team. A similar number of the Valor Group’s team fill the seats at the opposite end of the highly polished conference table.

Then, it hits me. The only other vacant seat remaining. It's positioned exactly opposite mine, taunting me as it waits for him. Which means Coop isn’t just a member of the Valor Group. He is the Valor Group, and I’m his business.

Keeping my composure would be a hell of a lot easier if he didn’t look so goddamn sexy. Even without a tie, his white shirt unbuttoned at the throat beneath a steel-blue suit is casual and hot, his morning-after look outshining every other man’s in the room.

And why does he look so good with a face of fresh stubble? Following the line of his jaw down his neck, I take in his open collar, which lets me imagine every muscle beneath it. Every strong line. Every delectable curve.

I watch as he remains standing next to the executive chair waiting for him, then leans over to speak quietly to a member of his own team. With a dozen members of his team and a dozen members of ours, we’re evenly matched. So, why does it bother me so much that the person whose attention he grabbed happens to be a woman?

And, of course, he’s sort of hanging all over the most fresh-faced, beautiful woman here. Despite her thick-rimmed glasses and professional demeanor, the young woman is a stunner.

In her fitted suit and rich reddish-brown locks that cascade down to her covered, ample bosom, no doubt he’s eyeing every one of her assets.

God, I’m the one who sneaked out at four in the morning. So, why am I so unbelievably pissed?

With a soft kick under the table, I nudge Jean to get going.

“Shall we begin?” she says, somberly leading everyone to open their portfolios as she flips the pages of her own.

“One moment,” Coop says, a controlled uncertainty underlying his tone as he finally takes his seat.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Byrne?” Jean asks, unwavering in her practiced professional demeanor.

Byrne?

I scan the paperwork before me, relieved that all traces of the double vision that plagued me earlier have finally subsided. Flipping past the agenda, I scan the names of the attendees.

Mr. Liam Cooper Byrne, Esquire. Principal Agent. The Alliance.

He’s an attorney? And a principal agent? Which means he may or may not be an actual member of the Alliance.

“Sorry, Jean. Just one more minute.” Coop buries himself in the first few pages of the portfolio before him.

Between his stalling tactic and chumming up to his, uh, associate, I let out an irritated huff.

With a rugged scowl that lifts his hotness to the boiling point of panty-melting, Coop speaks to Jean, though his eyes stay fixed on mine. Pinning me with a gruff tone and scorching raw heat, the man has me shifting in my chair.

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” he says, which means, of course, he’s about to be completely disrespectful. “This meeting should be a meeting of the corporate minds. Of course, I understand why Everett wouldn’t be here. But I expected Ms. Long to show up.”

Before Jean can respond, I clasp my hands together and set them on the table, all business now. “You’re looking at her, Mr. Byrne.”

His soft smirk barely passes for a smile. “You’re very beautiful,” he says unapologetically in a room filled with Dallas executives. It feels condescending, and I glare at him. “But you’re not Jaclyn Long. And the attendee list specifically has Ms. Long listed.”

The absence of my first name wasn’t an oversight. Unsure if Jaclyn would hop a flight back to Dallas to seize control, I had Jean leave both our first names off the list to avoid a rushed reprint at the last minute if she took her rightful position at the helm.

Clinging to the facts, I give him a cool reply. “The paperwork says Ms. Long, and I am. I’m Margot.” His piercing stare grows blank. “Margot Long. Everett’s other daughter, and acting CEO of Long Multinational in Jaclyn’s absence.”

Slowly, Coop sits back with a sexy smile and only two words escaping his lips. “I see.”

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