Page 50 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

His tone is light, but the warning underneath it is not. I reach for my glass without taking my eyes off him.

“She’s here because we invited her,” I reply.

“That doesn’t mean she needs access to everything.”

“She doesn’t have access to everything.”

Preston glances toward the doorway as Sophie returns, his gaze lingering on her a fraction too long before he looks back at me.

“She does make a strong impression,” he says.

The approval in his voice irritates me more than the warning did.

“Keep the conversation professional, Preston,” I tell him.

I don’t raise my voice, and I don’t need to. His expression shifts just enough to show that he understands the boundary.

“I was making an observation,” he says.

“Then you’ve made it.”

Preston lifts his glass and steps away as Sophie reaches the table. She looks between us briefly, but if she senses anything, she gives no sign of it.

“Did I miss something?” she asks.

“Nothing important,” I answer, pulling out the chair beside mine.

“Dinner’s about to begin.”

Dinner settles into an easy rhythm once the first course is cleared. Sophie moves through the conversation without appearing to work at it, answering questions when they are directed toward her and drawing quieter members of the table in when Preston begins to dominate the discussion. I listen more than I speak, though my attention keeps returning to her.

Later, when several guests move toward the adjoining lounge for coffee and drinks, Nathan Cole, one of the younger investors in the Boston fund, takes the empty place beside Sophie. He is competent, ambitious, and accustomed to being received well. From across the room, I watch him angle his body toward her, as he leans closer than the conversation requires.

Sophie turns toward him, her shoulders shifting in his direction as she listens. A faint smile curves across her mouth, and her eyes flicker with amusement at something he says. Nathan responds by moving closer, encouraged by the attention, while she keeps her glass balanced loosely between her fingers and answers with the easy confidence I have watched her use all evening.

The people nearest them laugh from whatever he said, and Sophie’s smile widens. Nathan holds her gaze as the room fills around them, his interest obvious in the way his attention never leaves her face.

A tightness forms beneath my ribs before I can dismiss it. It isn’t jealousy. I have no claim to her, and Nathan has done nothing beyond flirting with a woman who is clearly capable of managing him. Still, I dislike the angle of his body toward hers and the easy familiarity he is attempting to create. The distance between us feels suddenly unnecessary.

Vivian says something beside me, but I miss the first half of it.

“Julian?” she asks.

“I heard you,” I reply, though I didn’t.

Her eyes flick briefly toward Sophie and Nathan before returning to me. Vivian is too discreet to comment, which makes the silence more pointed.

I set my glass down and cross the room. Nathan notices me first and straightens slightly. Sophie turns a moment later, and her gaze meets mine with a warmth that eases the pressure in my chest more quickly than it should.

“Nathan,” I say, “Preston was looking for you.”

Nathan glances toward the other side of the room. “Was he?”

“He is now.”

A faint smile touches Sophie’s mouth. Nathan understands the dismissal and lifts his glass.

“Then I should rescue him from whatever conversation he’s trapped himself in.”