Page 83 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

My throat burned. I cleared it, but it didn’t help. “She’s… She’s great,” I agreed. “We haven’t talked about marriage yet. We’re taking things slow. We’re not in any rush.”

Wilbur and Roseanne exchanged a loaded look. It was Wilbur who said, “You might want to get in a rush.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The older man shrugged and leaned back in his chair, kicking his legs up on a footstool. “When I met Rosie, I knew that was it. I see the same thing with the two of you. No point in wasting time.”

I nodded but said nothing. I felt out of depth in this conversation, and half my mind was still in the bedroom next to Nikki. Marriage…no. We barely knew each other.

She knows me better than anyone else,I argued with myself, then batted the thought away. It was too soon to get married. Way, way too soon. We’d known each other, what, a couple months? Two and a half? The old man was just obsessed with committed relationships, and he was entitled to his opinions. It didn’t mean I had to marry the girl just because I liked her.

Still…I itched to get back to the room and check on her. I set my drink aside and stood. “Excuse me. I’ll go make sure Nikki doesn’t need anything.”

“Of course,” Roseanne replied with a regal nod. “We’ll send word about dinner, but don’t feel like you have to come out and keep the two of us old farts company if Nikki needs you more.”

I gave her a jerky nod, then made my way back to the room. I found Nikki awake and curled on her side, reading something on her phone. She put it down when I walked in and gave me a soft smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she said, but I didn’t quite believe her.

“Can I get you anything?”

A small head shake, and Nikki extended her arms toward me. I climbed into bed behind her and tucked her against my chest, curling my knees behind hers. She let out a soft sigh, and the unease that had pounded through me settled.

We stayed like that for a long time—long enough that the light coming in around the edges of the curtains changed to a darker gold. I intermittently stroked her hair and let my hands drift over her arm and side. My thoughts circled around and around, always coming back to the same thing.

Marriage.

I’d never thought of myself as someone who would have a wife. When I thought of my future, I always imagined myself standing on my own. That was the safest way to be. That was how I’d made my fortune, how I’d built my empire.

But Wilbur’s words wriggled into my mind and made a home there. I thought about waking up next to Nikki every morning. Being able to take her to events and introduce her as my wife, not just my guest. Having her as a sounding board and a second opinion for the rest of my life.

She’d helped me over the past couple of months; business had improved with her by my side. She wasn’t just a beautiful woman that charmed the people we met. She was observant and forward-thinking. She did more research than some of my own marketing teams in order to prepare for the various events. She dressed impeccably, which I was learning was less about style and more about sending the right message.

With Nikki by my side, I wasn’t just the captain of a meaningless ship. My future wasn’t simply the pursuit of more. If we were to make this real, I could see a life that was fulfilling, maybe even happy.

But I’d known her two and a half months. Even the thought of marriage was crazy, let alone speaking it out loud. Besides, our agreement was working. She got paid for all her efforts, and I got to spend as much time with her as possible.

There was another benefit to keeping things as they were. I didn’t have to face my biggest fear: Nikki leaving. I knew that if I really let her in, if I told her just how much I wanted her and just how much I imagined a future with her, I’d be signing my own death warrant. I couldn’t do it.

The fact of the matter was that she was here because I paid her. Sure, we were involved now, but what if the promise of a steady paycheck and a big clothing budget was worth more to her than a commitment to me? What if all the tender moments we’d had didn’t mean as much to her as they meant to me?

What if I peeled off my armor and put a target on the most vulnerable part of me, handed her the knife, and told her she could drive it into my heart if she chose?

“We should get up,” she said in a soft voice, turning her head slightly.

I inhaled the scent of her hair and placed a kiss on her shoulder. “Only if you’re feeling better.”

“I am. I don’t want to leave Wilbur and Roseanne alone when they’ve been such great hosts. There’s a lot riding on this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her, heart pinching. “You don’t have to think about work right now.”

She turned around fully, expression soft. Her fingers slid over my jaw and pushed into my hair, and I groaned at the feel of her nails against my scalp. Her touch dragged my eyelids down, making my whole body feel heavy. She massaged my temple, my crown, the nape of my neck. Her hand softened and slid to the side of my throat a moment before she shifted to brush her lips against mine.

Her kiss was soft and sweet, and it almost gave me the courage to strip that armor off and hand her a knife. How could this be fake when it felt so real? How could she possibly not want exactly what I wanted when she touched me like the feel of my skin beneath her palm was the only medicine she ever needed?

Pulling away, Nikki met my gaze. “We should get up.”

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