Page 32 of Reckless King

In consideration of the services rendered under this Agreement, the Second Party shall receive a sum of fifty-thousand dollars per month, payable at the end of each month directly to the designated account…

Both parties acknowledge the highly confidential nature of this arrangement…

The Second Party agrees to accompany the First Party to a minimum of three public events per month, which may include a combination of scheduled and spontaneous appearances…

Both parties shall refrain from entering into any romantic relationships outside the scope of this Agreement…

While the nature of this Agreement implies a romantic relationship in the public eye, both parties acknowledge that their interactions are purely for appearance and hold no real romantic intent. There will be no physical intimacy between the two parties…

Any changes to the terms of this Agreement must be mutually agreed upon in writing by both parties. No verbal modifications will be considered valid until?—

Wait.

I scan a few lines up, then look at Mark. “No physical intimacy? Did Tate ask you to include that?”

He shifts in his chair, his jaw tight. “I added that in on your behalf. Tate said to include anything that would make you feel more comfortable.”

I give my head a little shake. In theory, I don’t mind there being a limiting clause, since the last thing either of us wants is to… expand on what we’ve already mistakenly done, but I assumed we would have to act like a real couple in public, at least to some extent.

“If Tate and I are going to convince the world that we’re in a relationship, don’t you think we might need to, I don’t know, kiss in public at some stage?”

Mark rocks forward in his chair. “You’ve never been Tate’s biggest fan, so I didn’t want you to feel like you owed him anything more than your presence at his side.”

“For fifty thousand a month, I should do more than just show up. I might not be his biggest fan, but he’s paying me for a service, and the least I can do is make it believable.”

Mark presses his lips together, then huffs out a breath. “You want me to change it?”

Halfway through his question, the door swings open and Tate walks in, followed by two dark-haired men just as tall as he is.

“What are we changing?” he asks, his gaze sweeping over me with an intensity that dries my throat.

I cringe inside. Talk about timing. Why did he have to walk in just as we were discussing the physical intimacy clause? Mark regards me, brows raised in question.

With a sigh, I nod.

Dragging the contract back across the table, he addresses Tate. “Violet wants me to add in kissing.”

My mouth drops open at the same speed my stomach plummets. Why the hell did he say it likethat?

An irritatingly smug grin grows on Tate’s handsome face. “She does, does she?”

A wave of heat creeps up from my chest to my face. “I just thought it would be unrealistic otherwise. If we’re supposed to be dating, wouldn’t we have to maybe… I don’t know, sell it or, you know…act like we’re…”

The more flustered I get, the wider Tate’s smile grows.

I grind to a halt and narrow my eyes at him. “But on second thought, maybe we should leave in the no phys?—”

“No, no.” He holds up both hands. “I think changing it is an excellent idea. In fact, maybe we should specify exactly how many kisses we should?—”

“I don’t believe that’s necessary,” Mark cuts in with a pointed look at Tate. “I’ll include a phrase along the lines of including the minimum amount of physical intimacy required to establish the nature of the relationship. And that it will be at Violet’s discretion.”

Tate chuckles, his gaze meeting mine. The devilish curve to his lips sends a little shockwave through me, and instantly, mymind goes in a direction it shouldn’t. To memories of exactly how those lips felt against my breasts, how they might feel against other parts of my body. I quickly shake that thought away. I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who could tell me exactly how they feel. Just like any other man’s, I imagine.

His fingers didn’t feel like any other man’s…

God, why can’t I stop thinking about that night?

Luckily, I’m distracted from that train of thought when one of the dark-haired men behind Tate steps forward. He leans across the table and extends his hand. “Cole King. Nice to meet you, Violet.” Ah. I’d assumed they were more lawyers, but these must be Tate’s brothers.

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