Page 17 of Breaking His Law

I drop my shoulders and summon all the confidence I haven’t felt since walking through the doors of the building this morning and try my best to hide how flustered I feel.Okay, maybe I can do this…

“Good morning.” I give them a hint of a smile, walk around the table, then take a seat at the end of it while they mumble polite greetings and go back to talking amongst each other.

“We will begin in five minutes,” one of the women informs me as I make myself comfortable.

“Thank you,” I reply, unable to comprehend how I ended up here. This is a curve ball I wasn’t prepared for.

You’ve got this, Ari.

Be invisible.Joseph’s words of advice swirl around my head, my nerves settling down a little.

I make myself busy, locate the software on the laptop to take the minutes, and set up a new document in the same way I’ve done hundreds of times before.

Focused on the screen, I jump when a raucous roar of laughter from what sounds like a rowdy group of frat boys comes from behind the door then bursts into the room.

I snap my head up in the direction of the noise and quicker than the crack of a whip, my blood turns cold.

Oh no.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It takes what feels like seventy hours for the men to say their hellos, although it’s only seconds, but it’s enough time for my stomach to turn into a pit of unease. It feels heavy and sour with anticipation, as if a viper is coiling through my gut.

It all happens in slow motion; one after the other, their gazes land on me, making them fall silent.

“Hello again,” one of them, who I know to be Cole, greets me.

I know each one of them because I’ve spent hours studying the company’s website and each one of their cases.

“Oh, wow,” another chimes in, his tone laced with subtle humor.Eli.

The third, Max, flashes me a shit-eating grin. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

But standing at the forefront is the man who looks as though he’s been sculpted from the finest marble—sharp and chiseled. Rigid and unmoving, he could pass for a statue if not for the faint twitch in his jaw.

I feel a pang of anguish inside, mixed with an unwelcome spark of desire—completely inappropriate under the circumstances.

Because it’s him.

Nathaniel Hart.

The man I shared an unforgettable night with.

And the man I had fervently hoped to avoid until absolutely necessary.

“Everyone out. Now,” he barks, and the air between us turns frosty. “Except you.” He points at me, and I let out a small whimpered noise that sounds like a cocktail of shock and fear.

Everything is going to shit. This was never part of my plan.

And now I’m really screwed.

8

NATHAN

I wait for my colleagues and brothers to leave before storming to the door and slamming it shut to make my point when the last person forgets to close it behind them, muffling the smug laughter of delight from my brothers. They are loving every minute of this awkward situation I find myself in.

Assholes.

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