Page 115 of Strictly Business

I turn to Nicholas, my brows shooting up to my hairline. “Thisis where you grew up?”

He looks over, a smirk on his face. “You seem surprised.”

“A little. I definitely didn’t expectthis.” I motion vaguely toward the entire estate, feeling a little out of place in my jacket, barely thick enough for a cold breeze, and my worn-out boots. “It’s stunning.”

He gives me a half-smile. “You want one like this?”

My eyes widen. “What? That’s crazy.”

“It’s just a house. Say the word and it’s yours.”

Just a house. I shake my head, not knowing how to respond. My home was cramped, the walls were too thin, and we were lucky if the kitchen sink didn’t leak. “I’m good. You’ve given me more than enough.”

Nicholas opens the car door and steps out, offering me his hand. It’s become second nature, and I can’t help but wonder what I’ll do when it’s no longer there. The cold hits me as soon as I step out of the car, and I instinctively pull my jacket tighter, the chill nipping at my skin as we make our way toward the front door.

We’re halfway down the driveway when the door swings open, and out steps a woman.

Eleanor Blackwood is everything I expected Nicholas’s mom to be. Tall, effortlessly elegant, with blonde hair pulled into a perfect bun that looks like it could never have a single hair out of place.

“Nicholas,” she greets her son, her smile widening as she spots him. “You’re here.”

He smirks at her, leaning in to give her a hug. “Good to see you, mom.”

“And you must be Amara,” she says, her smile growing as her eyes move over me. She shakes her head. “You’re even more beautiful than the pictures I’ve seen.”

I offer her a warm smile, my hand tightening in Nicholas’s. “Thank you.”

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Eleanor continues, smiling at me with a warmth that almost makes me forget how out of place I feel here. “It’s wonderful to finally meet the woman who’s captured my son’s heart.”

“I, uh—It’s great to meet you too,” I stumble over the words, letting out a nervous laugh.

Eleanor’s smile widens, but before she can say anything else, a voice cuts through the air.

“Well, well, well. The infamous fiancée.”

I freeze, and Nicholas stiffens beside me, his body going rigid as he slips his hand to the small of my back.

I follow his gaze to the man now standing in the doorway. Alexander Blackwood.

He’s everything Nicholas isn’t. Sharp angles where Nicholas is smooth, relaxed where Nicholas is controlled, and a cockiness radiating from him that sets me on edge.

“What are you doing here?” Nicholas asks him, his voice sharp.

Alexander grins, and lifts his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip as if he’s enjoying the moment a little too much. “When I heard you were bringing your fiancée, I thought I should see for myself.”

He takes a step forward, his gaze flicking over me like he’s sizing me up. There’s nothing overtly rude about it, but the way his eyes linger makes me want to squirm.

Before I can even react, he takes my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“Alexander Blackwood. A pleasure to meet you, Amara.”

I pull my hand back a second later. “Nice to meet you, too,” I reply, pressing my lips together in a smile.

“That’s enough,” Nicholas snaps.

The shift in his tone catches me off guard, and I glance up at him, my eyes widening.

Alexander’s smirk doesn’t even falter. If anything, it widens. “Don’t be so territorial, little brother. I’m just being polite.”

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