Page 22 of Strictly Business

“Was there a problem?” he asks, his voice smooth but firm. “You’re free to change anything you don’t agree with.”

I swallow hard, my fingers twitching at my sides, unsure what to do with them. “There’s a clause about no outside… romantic relationships.”

His smirk vanishes, replaced by a look I can’t quite read. He straightens, crossing his arms over his chest as his dark eyes bore into mine. “That’s correct. I thought it would be best to maintain appearances.”

I nod, my throat suddenly dry. “Right. Appearances.”

He tilts his head, like he’s dissecting my every word. “I don’t think it would send the right message if you—or I—were seen with someone else during this arrangement.”

“Of course. That… makes sense.”

But my brain isn’t cooperating, because now it’s stuck on Nicholas Blackwood—powerful, controlled, untouchable—being abstinent for three whole months. And an even more dangerousthought follows. There’s nothing in the contract about us being… involved.

My stomach twists as I gulp, trying to focus. I’m sure it’s an oversight, something I could mention to him right now, and he’d correct it with a few strokes of a pen.

But I don’t.

“And this… deal will end on August 31st?” I ask, squeezing my hands into fists as his gaze lingers on me.

“That’s correct,” he confirms with a nod, his fingers brushing his chin. “That’ll be more than enough time to secure the deal with the board.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. For him, this is all so clear-cut. So simple. For me… it feels like stepping into an active volcano.

He straightens, adjusts his tie, and steps closer. “It’s normal to feel hesitant,” he continues, his voice softening just enough to make my stomach flip. “We don’t know each other that well.”

A surprised laugh escapes me. “I know everything about you,” I counter. “I’ve been your assistant for over two years. I know your coffee order, your schedule, the way you organize your desk, your preferred brand of pen…” I trail off, because if I keep going, I’ll expose just how much I’ve noticed about him. How much I’ve paid attention.

A low sound rumbles from his chest, something between a scoff and a snarl, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “You might know those things about me,” he says, stepping even closer, his dark gaze practically pinning me in place. “But I can promise you, Amara… you don’t really know me.”

My breath catches, his words pressing against my ribs. I don’t know if he’s daring me to dig deeper or warning me not to.

His eyes flick down to my lips—so quick I might’ve imagined it—before snapping back to mine, as intense as ever. “There’s a charity gala on Saturday,” his voice cuts through the silence.“The board will be there. It’s crucial I make a strong impression. It’ll be the perfect opportunity to show them I’m serious about this deal.”

I nod as I clear my throat, looking up at his tall figure. “And you want me to find you a date?” I ask automatically, already used to his routine.

His eyes flash with something I can’t quite read as his lips curve into a slow smile. “No.You’remy date.”

I blink, thrown completely off guard. “Excuse me?”

“We’ll be announcing our engagement at this gala,” he clarifies, his words sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ll be my date to every event from now on.”

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. His gaze lingers on mine for a moment longer before he steps back, the faintest smirk still playing on his lips.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulls out a sleek black card, holding it between his pointer and middle finger. “Buy yourself a dress. On me. Money’s no issue.”

It’s every girl’s dream to hear those words from someone who could make it happen without batting an eye. And yet, while my fingers itch to snatch the card, my pride screams louder. I’m already taking more from him than I ever thought I would.

“Mr. Blackwood, I—”

“Nicholas,” he cuts me off.

I blink. “Excuse me?”

“You’re myfiancée, Amara.” His voice dips lower, the word curling around me like smoke. “I think you can start calling me by my first name.”

He says it with such ease, like it’s already a fact. It sends a shiver down my spine, one I have no business feeling.

I could correct him, remind him that this isn’t real, but the way he saysfiancéehas my mouth going dry, and suddenly, I’m not so sure I want to.

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