Chapter 707

The air carried an unseasonable chill that clung to the skin.

Evelyn Sinclair didn't understand why Nathan Blackwood had appeared, but there was no time to dwell on it. She forced a polished smile as she approached, extending her hand in greeting.

"Mr. Whitmore, my apologies for keeping you waiting—"

The slightly round-faced Leonard Whitmore chuckled warmly as he shook her hand. "I only just arrived myself. Ms. Sinclair, you're even more stunning than the actresses on magazine covers. No wonder social media begs for you to enter the entertainment industry!"

Evelyn laughed lightly. "You flatter me. I could never compare to professionals. I'm just a simple businesswoman with a spreadsheet addiction."

Leonard seemed pleasantly surprised by her humility. The mood remained relaxed.

He turned slightly, addressing the shadowed figure behind him. "Don't you agree, Mr. Blackwood? Ms. Sinclair outshines any celebrity. Her presence alone would eclipse every starlet in Hollywood."

Nathan's voice was rough velvet. "Undoubtedly."

Leonard chuckled, turning back. "Mr. Blackwood requested an earlier meeting, but my assistant botched the scheduling. Since you're already acquainted, I thought we might combine the discussions. You don't mind, do you, Ms. Sinclair?"

Nathan stepped forward from the dim lighting. Dressed in immaculate black, his broad shoulders cut a striking silhouette. His gaze burned with something unreadable.

Ignoring him was impossible.

Evelyn arched a brow. "Not at all."

Internally, she screamed, Yes, I mind! Get him out of here!

Nathan's lips curled as he extended his hand. "Ms. Sinclair. It's been too long."

Since their last encounter after New Year's, the absence had gnawed at him. The longing had settled deep, relentless.

Now, finally, she stood before him again.

Evelyn met his gaze with practiced indifference, offering a polite handshake while mentally cursing him. "Mr. Blackwood. A pleasure."

Is this some kind of game? She withdrew her hand instantly, turning back to Leonard with a bright smile. "Shall we?"

The group moved inside. Before dinner, Leonard suggested poker. Evelyn agreed, instructing Bennett to arrange it.

Leonard, Evelyn, Nathan, and Jonathan Reeves settled around the table for a four-player game.

To foster rapport between Jonathan and Leonard, Evelyn deliberately folded repeatedly, letting them win. Nathan observed from the sidelines, his expression unreadable. He played along, losing several rounds—so much so that Evelyn wondered if he even knew the rules.

By the end, Leonard was beaming from his victories. Jonathan looked equally pleased. Soon, they were addressing each other as "bro," their camaraderie loosened by the playful competition. Sensing the perfect moment, Evelyn suggested they move to dinner. Everyone agreed eagerly.

Leonard and Jonathan led the way. Unintentionally, Evelyn and Nathan fell behind.

Nathan carried a faint trace of tobacco—not overpowering, just enough to linger on his clothes—mingled with the warmth of bergamot tea. The combination was distractingly familiar.

Evelyn's focus wavered.

She missed a step.

Her stomach lurched as she realized she was about to meet the floor face-first. Resigned, she braced for impact.

Then—an arm hooked around her waist, yanking her backward into Nathan's chest.

The scent of him—warm, rich, intoxicating—flooded her senses. She froze.

His grip was unyielding. All evening, he had kept his distance. Now, with one touch, the invisible barrier between them shattered.

Something unspoken surged to the surface.

For a breathless moment, neither moved. Then Nathan's voice, low and rough, brushed her ear.

"Careful."

The concern in his tone sent a shiver down her spine.

His next words were a whisper. "Unless you wanted me to catch you."