Page 25 of A Bossy Proposal

His words catch me off guard, just like the unexpected sensation between my legs. I press them together.

For a moment, I’m not sure how to respond. So, I bring up the club again. “Will you still go there?”

“Tell me why you don’t want me to,” he says. There’s a glint in his eye as he does.

I bite my lip as he smiles at me.

The tension in the room shifts. It becomes something different. Something almost playful, but definitely sexy.

“I..I think—“ I hesitate, trying to regain my composure. “If we’re going to do this, it has to be believable. And I can’t handle the idea of people feeling sorry for me if you’re going there while we’re pretending to be engaged.”

West nods slowly, considering my words. “That’s fair enough,” he says finally. “If you agree. No more Club Elysium.”

I’m happy that he agrees, but it doesn’t dispel the lingering anxiety about what I’m so close to committing to.

“I’ll need a little more time,” I whisper.

“Of course, take a few days,” he replies. He walks to me, and when he reaches me, he places his large palms on my arms and looks me in the eye. “And Amelia.”

God, I love it when he says my name like he listens to every syllable as he says it.

“We’ll take things one step at a time. I won’t rush you.”

I nod, taking a deep breath because I know he is talking about sex. “Is there anything else I should know before I decide?” I ask, glancing away from his too handsome face.

“Like what?”

“Will we share a bed?” I ask.

“We’ll be engaged, Amelia. We’ll shareeverything.” The way he says everything makes me shiver from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

“And the engagement. Will it be a small affair? An announcement?”

He chuckles. “So many questions. But my mother wouldn’t forgive me if any of her children eloped or opted out of having a party to celebrate. She’ll want a full list of your family. Parents, siblings, she’ll even want your cousins, cousins.”

“I have nobody to invite.”

“Nobody?” he pushes, surprise flickers across his face. I can’t tell if his shock stems from pity or genuine interest.

I keep my gaze steady on West, but the weight of the word still lingers in the air.

“You mean none at all?”

“There’s only me.” My voice drops to a whisper. “An only child. My parents are dead.”

“Dead.”

The word lingers between us like an unwelcome spirit.

My chest aches as a strange feeling uncovers, something I haven’t allowed myself to confront in a long time.

His hands drop from my arms as his expression softens. “Why didn’t I know this about you?”

“Not many people do,” I say nonchalantly, trying to brush it off with a casual shrug. “It’s not exactly a fun topic for small talk. But you should know, just in case it makes a difference to what you’re asking.”

His gaze remains fixed on me, and I sense a shift that goes beyond our business arrangement. “How did they—?”

“An accident.” The words spill out before I can stop them. “A few years ago.”

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