Chapter 3

Sienna's POV

The invitation arrived with gold embossing that caught the light on my desk. I had to attend because Nathaniel Reid would be present, and as the Lake District official, he held the kind of access I needed if Lumina Lodge was to survive without high-interest loans. The cash flow statement on my laptop already showed too much red. At nine o'clock I stepped aboard the yacht on Lake Union, wearing deep emerald silk and my mother's pearl earrings. I accepted a glass of champagne I had no intention of drinking and moved toward Nathaniel, rehearsing what I would say.

Then I heard his voice. "Mr. Reid, regarding the Lake Aurelia Heart Island environmental assessment—our legal team has some concerns." Two and a half years had passed, yet the sound still stopped me cold. My heart raced, my palms dampened, and every instinct told me to leave. I stepped back, using the flute to shield my face. His sentence faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered, though his gaze followed me as I tried to reach the exit.

At the corner I collided with him. Less than three feet separated us. "Ms. Whitmore," he said, the words cold and formal. "I didn't expect to see you here." I forced myself to meet his eyes. "Mr. Vance. It's been quite some time." When I tried to pass, he blocked my path. "Leaving so hastily? Not even a proper greeting?"

"I'm not fleeing," I replied. "I simply didn't wish to interrupt your networking. After all, we're merely business acquaintances now. Nothing more." His fingers tightened around his whiskey glass until the knuckles whitened. "Business acquaintances. You possess quite a talent for redefining relationships, Ms. Whitmore."

Victoria Ashford appeared at his side, her hand sliding across his arm. "Ethan, darling, there you are." Her gaze assessed me with cool detachment. "And this is…?" Ethan introduced me flatly as the proprietor of Lumina Lodge. Victoria's smile was perfectly measured. "That quaint establishment on Lake Aurelia? I understand there have been certain difficulties."

Ethan's voice cut in. "Difficulties? That's rather diplomatic of you, Victoria. Last quarter's operating condition debacle nearly bankrupted the establishment, didn't it, Ms. Whitmore?" Conversations nearby quieted. Heat rose in my cheeks. "We resolved that matter in accordance with consumer protection law."

"Resolved?" His laugh was sharp. "Is that what one calls desperately scrambling to avoid litigation?" Victoria leaned closer, her voice carrying just far enough for others to hear. "Ethan, do be kind. Not everyone possesses your business acumen. Some people work with what they have—by whatever means available." The implication landed like a stone. I saw eyebrows lift and knowing glances pass between guests.

I kept my voice steady. "I'm here to discuss strategic partnerships for Lake Aurelia Heart Island, seeking investors who understand sustainable tourism." Ethan's tone turned colder. "Investors? Or patrons? There is a distinction, Ms. Whitmore." My hands trembled around the glass. Victoria interjected smoothly that Aethelgard had been negotiating for months and preferred established brands. A woman near Nathaniel remarked loudly that she wondered how I had acquired the initial capital. Another added that I was certainly dressed for networking.

My dress suddenly felt too tight. "Why not simply sell to Aethelgard?" Victoria suggested, her hand still on Ethan's arm. "Fair compensation, no risk. Rather better than other arrangements." I managed to say that Lumina was not for sale because I had built it myself. Ethan's reply came like a blade. "Did you? Because I seem to recall certain financial assistance during its founding."

The crowd's attention sharpened. Nathaniel's expression shifted from interest to distaste. I felt my reputation shredding in real time. Before I could respond, a waiter approached with a tray of champagne. The tray tilted suddenly, and cold liquid cascaded down my dress. I gasped, stumbling backward as the emerald silk turned transparent where it was wet. Laughter rippled through the onlookers. Victoria's hand flew to her mouth in false concern. The waiter's quick glance toward her before he stumbled told me everything.

Champagne dripped from my hair and clung to my skin while Seattle's elite watched. Victoria suggested I freshen up, her eyes flicking meaningfully toward Ethan. I could not breathe. Then Ethan's voice cut through the murmurs, harder and more authoritative. "Before Ms. Whitmore departs, I should clarify something." He released Victoria's arm and stepped between me and the crowd. "The property's financial structure was something I helped architect. As a silent partner, I can assure everyone present that its cash flow is considerably more robust than most enterprises represented this evening."

Silence fell over the deck. Victoria's expression froze. Ethan continued that Ms. Whitmore and he maintained a professional relationship predating any misconceptions. He was lying, yet he was forcing credibility back into my hands. Nathaniel's face changed again, interest returning. Ethan turned to me with a warning in his eyes. "Ms. Whitmore, perhaps we should discuss your proposal privately. I believe Mr. Reid would benefit from my assessment based on substantive financial data."

If I refused, I would lose everything. The champagne dripped cold down my spine. "Very well, Mr. Vance," I said. His hand touched the small of my back, possessive through the wet silk, and guided me toward the stairs. Victoria called after him, but he did not stop.

We descended to the lower deck and entered a private lounge. The moment the door closed, I spun to face him. "What the hell was that?" He leaned against the door, arms crossed. "Damage mitigation." I demanded to know why he had fabricated being my investor. "Would you have preferred I allow them to eviscerate you?" he asked. "You were drowning up there."

"I didn't ask for your intervention." He studied me for a long moment. "Because regardless of what transpired between us, you don't deserve such treatment." I told him I didn't need his pity. His gaze met mine. "Excellent. Because that isn't what this is."

The air between us tightened. When I asked what it was, he moved closer. I backed up until I hit the wall. "You truly wish to know?" he said, voice lower. "Watching them humiliate you while they insinuated you'd traded favors for success made me want to raze that entire deck." His hand braced on the wall beside my head. "Does that sufficiently answer your question?"

My breath caught. He was close enough that I could feel the heat from him. "You despise me," I whispered. "Indeed," he replied. "I do." His free hand lifted, fingers ghosting along my jaw. "Because despising you and desiring you are not mutually exclusive. Much as I wish they were."

I should have pushed him away. Instead I stayed. "Tell me to leave," he said. "Tell me you don't want this, and I shall depart immediately." I opened my mouth, but no words came. His eyes darkened. "Precisely as I thought."

His kiss crashed into me with two and a half years of denied hunger. My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer even as my mind warned that this was dangerous. His hand slid into my wet hair while the other gripped my waist. "I despise you," he breathed against my lips. "I utterly despise you." Yet his hands traced my curves with a restraint that trembled. I gasped back that I despised him too. His broken laugh vibrated against my throat. "Liar."