Page 16 of Seducing Hope (The Hope Legacy)

His jaw tics as a “Man in Black” appears behind me from seemingly nowhere.

“Bring Miss Waterford coffee. She is not able to recognize the sophistication of tea.” I blink and move him to number one on my shit list. I’ll update my journal later.

I sit, a little stunned. Walking away now would seem childish, despite my overwhelming desire to stick out my tongue at him. Ha, I bet that would get a reaction, but it would augment his opinion of my low IQ.

Archan picks up a silver knife and slices some of his croissant. “What do you know about the process of a merger?” I send a silent thanks to Aaden for his preparation this morning and take a small bite of melon.

“We’re at the planning stage. The letter of intent has been signed, allowing us to enter the negotiations. Today, the advisors will introduce themselves, an approximate timeline will be agreed upon, and if time allows, discussion about the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats of the merger will start. I believe the common term is SWOT.” I pause, holding his gaze. “Your role is to oversee the legal matters of the merger, not to interfere, and youaren’tan advisor.”

His mouth twitches. “You have done your homework, Natia—”

I interrupt. “Miss Waterford.”

His eyes narrow. “Miss Waterford.” The conspicuous man in black appears with a pot of coffee, and not a moment too soon. I pour myself a cup and take a sip. I grimace—it’s decaffeinated. I glare at him, and his gold eyes dance with amusement. Well played, Mr. Reinheart.

Archan focuses on my face, giving me his full attention. It’s unnerving. “Why are you really here, Miss Waterford?”

A swell of power makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle.

I take another sip of the disgusting, brown,pointlessliquid before pushing it away. “I don’t understand the question,” I answer calmly. Humans wouldn’t normally be able to feel the weight of the power currently being thrown at me.

He tilts his head, as if trying to read my thoughts. “Do you have another agenda?”

“I’m a shareholder, here to oversee the merger of my grandfather’s company and ensure the heart of the business remains intact,” I drone, as if his intelligence can’t cope with big words. I eat a few pieces of strawberry. “What about you, Archan? You were nowhere to be seen until a few months ago. What have you been doing in your spare time?”

His eyes narrow. “I’ve been on sabbatical, learning new hobbies and relaxing. But it was time to come back.”

I snort. “Well practiced, Archan. Are you going to be honest, or should I accept your well-constructed response, which answers nothing?”

He puts down his cup and leans back in his chair, inspecting me with more interest. “I had other priorities. Several projects needed my full attention.” His eyes follow my hand as I spoon more fruit into my mouth, making me self-conscious. “What about you, Miss Waterford?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why did you choose to dance?”

“It’s something I enjoy and I’m good at. I wanted to dance for a famous company.”

“Well practiced, Miss Waterford. Are you going to be honest, or should I accept your well-constructed response, which answers nothing?” he says, throwing my words back at me. Guess I deserved that.

I glance at his smart black leather shoes. “Dance is a way to lose myself, but find myself at the same time. I have a second heartbeat that thumps only to the beat of my dance. When I dance, I breathe, the world disappears, and I follow my heart without fear. My feelings are exposed, and passion makes my walls nonexistent… I don’t feel pain, I only feel free.”

I look up. Archan’s stare is so intense, I have to fight the urge to squirm. I return his stare, both of us caught in the moment. A strong wind whips around us, causing my napkin to lift from the table. I snatch it before it flies away. Archan frowns, glancing around. I do the same, but the source of the sudden gust alludes me—maybe there’s a gap in the glass barrier?

Needing decent coffee and a reprieve, I stand and smooth down my dress; his eyes follow my hands, and heat flares in his gaze. Striding toward the elevator, I switch the song to Liam Payne’s “Strip That Down.” I immediately give myself a mental slap. Archan enters the small elevator behind me, and his arm brushes mine. The small space becomes charged with his power, transforming into something magnetic and dangerous. His exotic scent permeates the air, infiltrating my senses, making it difficult to breathe. Heat touches the base of my neck, strokes over my shoulders, then drops down between my breasts. I close my eyes and bite my lower lip in an effort to contain a moan.

“After you, Miss Waterford,” Archan’s smooth voice drawls. I snap my eyes open to find a hallway in front of me. Archan’s eyes glitter. Scowling, I force myself not to run, noting we’re on the seventieth floor. I was only in the elevator for five floors? Archan puts his hand on the small of my back, guiding me along the corridor to the boardroom. I walk faster to break the contact, but he matches my speed.

Aaden sits near the head of a large table while Zee stands behind him, adopting the typical bodyguard pose—hands clasped in front of his body, feet slightly apart. His stare tracks me. He looks bored, and the meeting hasn’t even started; I suppress a giggle.

Spotting that Aaden has a cup of coffee in front of him, I search for its source. Archan signals the start of the meeting by asking everyone to take a seat. I have two choices: continue to search for the elusive coffee and ignore him, or conform and sit. Screw it, when everyone sits, I spot the coffee at the back of the room and make my way to pour myself a cup. I put in extra cream and sugar, salivating at the rich smell.

I turn around to find several people looking at me with a mix of irritation and surprise. I give them my brightest smile. “Apologies, I’ve come from a breakfast meeting with Mr. Reinheart, and he couldn’t provide regular coffee.” I catch Archan’s eyes. He gives me a barely perceptible nod, acknowledging my small win.

I take the only empty seat between Aaden and Archan. Well shit, sitting here is going to be about as fun as meeting your dad at a strip bar on a night out. As I drag my chair under the table, my bare leg brushes against Archan’s. I hiss softly as electric tingles dance up my leg. My eyes snap to his. He stares down at the table, but one corner of his mouth twitches. I tuck my legs under the safety of my chair.

Aaden elbows me. “Are you okay?” he whispers, leaning forward so his hair slides in front of his eyes. I nod, but he frowns, not buying it. What have I started? I’ve antagonized a powerful and dangerous man. His power hums around him, like I’m sitting next to a transmission tower, but I sense he’s keeping its full force muted. My traitorous body doesn’t help, happy with the sensations from his touch. I convince myself it isn’t him and any attractive man would have the same effect. I aptly pick “Stuck in the Middle with You” by Stealers Wheel. Aaden snorts softly; at least someone is entertained. I tap my fingers on the table to the rhythm, and Archan glances at them then at me. Oops.

The meeting follows the format we prepared for. Introducing myself as Matthew Waterford’s granddaughter, I describe my role as an overseer to protect the company’s family culture. Edward Pearson, a man from Grant Ltd., the company we’re preparing to merge with, enquires about my history and involvement with the company. I tell him about my internship in the accounts department and how I was later involved in decisions about the direction of the company (provided weapons development counts).

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