CHAPTER FOUR
I told myself I’d keep my distance.
That I wouldn’t let Ethan touch me again.
Especially not today—the biggest client meeting of the quarter.
But then he sat across the boardroom table, eyes locked on me like a predator waiting for the perfect moment.
And I knew I was already doomed.
“Miss Hart, your presentation?” the client asked, polite, expectant.
I swallowed, clicking the screen. “Y-yes, of course.”
My voice wavered the second I felt it—his foot sliding between mine under the table.
I stiffened. “Ethan,” I hissed under my breath.
His lips curved in that smug, devastating smirk. He pressed harder, his shoe grazing up my calf.
I tried to focus on the slides. On the numbers. On anything but him.
“And as you can see, this—ahhh—this model projects—” My words stutt
