Page 98 of Strictly Business

“No. Of course not. I just… We dated for a long time, and I thought I owed him a conversation.”

“You don’t owe himanything, Amara.” Nicholas’s voice is firm, his hands tightening around my waist as though he’s afraid I’ll slip away. “He insulted you, broke your trust, and turned his back on you. That’s on him, not you. Never you, baby.”

I blink up at him, trying to hold back the sting in my eyes, but he tips my chin up so I can’t look away. “What you said before,” I ask. “Did you mean it?”

For a moment, his expression softens, and I know he knows exactly what I’m talking about. The words he said to Liam, the ones that had left my stomach twisting and my heart racing. When he’d said I’d been in his head long before this fake engagement started.

At first, I’d assumed it was a lie, a tactic to throw Liam off, to make it clear that I wasn’t an option anymore. But now, looking at him, I can’t shake the feeling that there was truth in it.

He holds my gaze for a long moment. And then, finally, he nods.

“I meant every word I said to him,” he tells me. “It might’ve been wrong. You were my assistant, you had a boyfriend, and I had no right to think about you that way.” The confession sends my heart racing. His gaze never wavers, holding me captive in a way that leaves me breathless. “But I thought about you anyway,” he admits. “I pictured you. Wondered what it’d feel like to touch you.” His fingers graze down my arm, my skin breaking out in chills. “I wondered what it’d be like to kiss you,” he continues, leaning in until his lips are a breath away from mine.

The softest brush of his lips against mine steals my thoughts, my breath—everything. My knees threaten to give out, and I grip his arms to ground myself.

I let out a shaky breath, my chest rising and falling too quickly. “Nicholas…”

“I didn’t lie to him, Amara.” His eyes darken, his grip tightening as if he’s afraid I might disappear. “Not once.” His hands slide to my waist. “You’ve been living in my head for months—no, years. And I wanted him to know you weren’t an option. You’re mine, Amara,” he says, the words rough and soft all at once as his lips capture mine.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, his breath mingling with my own. “My assistant,” he murmurs, his lips grazing mine again before they drift to my jaw. He trails a path of kisses there, each one slower, softer, as though he’s memorizing every inch of my skin.

“My fiancée.” He pauses, breathing me in like I’m the only thing keeping him alive. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down my spine, and when his tongue flicks against my skin, followed by the scrape of his teeth, I gasp.

He groans against me, the sound deep and raw, as if simply kissing me is driving him wild. His lips, his teeth, his tongue… All of it works in perfect rhythm to mark me, claim me, and I feel myself surrendering completely.

“My fucking woman,” he says, his voice filled with possessiveness, one arm wrapping around my waist, the other slipping beneath the hem of my sweater.

“You’re all. Fucking. Mine.” His hands tug at the hem of my sweater, inching it up over my hips, until the fabric is slipping over my head and pooling on the floor.

“Nicholas,” I whisper, half naked as he devours me with his eyes. His hands slide to the waistband of my pants, and beforeI can catch my breath, they’re off. Those dark brown eyes roam over every inch of my skin.

“You’re so insanely gorgeous,” he says, and I don’t know what to do with the raw honesty in his voice.

Before I can respond, his arms are under me, lifting me off my feet like I weigh nothing. I squeak, my hands clutching at his shoulders. “What are you doing?”

He just laughs, the sound low and smug. “Carrying my woman to bed.”

He nudges the door open with his foot, the hinges creaking, and he lets me down gently, turning me around swiftly until we’re both facing his huge floor-length mirror. My reflection stares back at me, flushed and disheveled, and I hate the way my gaze immediately falls to the ground at the sight of him, tall, handsome, full of muscles… and then me beside him—the complete opposite.

I try to look away, but his fingers are under my chin, gently lifting my face until I meet his gaze in the mirror. “You think I don’t see you looking away every time you look in the mirror?”

I don’t answer, my eyes glued to my reflection as I swallow hard. All I can see are the parts of myself I’ve spent years trying to hide. The curve of my stomach, the softness of my thighs, the roundness of my arms.

His hands slide down to rest on my shoulders, his touch warm. “Don’t you see how fucking beautiful you are to me?” he asks, his thumb brushing across my jaw, making my skin tingle.

I shake my head, but he doesn’t let me look away. His fingers trail down my arms, then back up to cup my face, tilting it toward the mirror, his lips brushing against my temple. “Look at yourself, Amara.”

My gaze flickers, unsure, but his hands move again, skimming down my sides, tracing every curve like he owns them. He cups my breasts over my bra. “I love these,” he murmurs, his thumbsbrushing against the fabric. “The way they feel under my hands, how perfectly they fit in my palms.”

Heat rushes to my face, but he doesn’t stop, his hands trailing down to my stomach. “And this,” he adds, pressing his palm flat against my belly, making me suck in a breath. “This is sexy as hell. I love kissing it. Love how it tugs at the fabric when you wear a tight dress.”

I shake my head, the words catching in my throat, but he grips my chin, turning my face to meet his gaze in the mirror. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like you’re anything but fucking perfect.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” His hands roam lower, over my hips, my thighs, pausing to squeeze gently. “These,” he continues, his hands gripping my thighs, “are my favorite sight in the world. Thick and gorgeous, fills my hands perfectly.” His eyes lock on mine in the mirror. “I especially love when my head is buried between them.”

I breathe out a laugh, and he spins me around, his hands flying to my hips as he looks down at me with those dark, gorgeous eyes of his that make me melt.

Slowly, he tips my head back, tracing my jaw with his lips. “You are my everything.”

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