“Would I do that?” He manages to look innocent and predatory at the same time.
“You absolutely would.”
“You’re right.” The left side of his mouth half ticks up. “I would. But this is not related to the agreement. I promise. I wanted you to have the sous chef jacket.”
I search his face.
He seems sincere. What the hell? I’m going to accept it. Besides, I earned this.
I jump up, slip off the chef jacket I’m wearing and slide this one on. I button it up, running my fingers over the embroidery again.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He runs his eyes over me, and it feels like he’s touching my curves. Heat licks up my spine.
I ignore it, seat myself again. Put a little more space between us to be safe.
Next, he places a sheaf of papers between us. “It’s the agreement.” He nods at it. “Have you given thought to getting a solicitor of your own to check it out?—”
“That won’t be necessary. I’m sure I can trust you…in this regard.” I pull the papers toward me and start reading.
"The marriage ceremony is legal?" I scan the page.
He mentioned getting married at the Town Hall but seeing it on paper makes it real.
"My investors have asked to see the marriage certificate to confirm we’re husband and wife. Margot will want to see the certificate too and also meet you.”
“She doesn’t sound like a typical grandmother…” I lift my gaze to his.
“She’s not.” He half chuckles. “She’s been taking lessons from Arthur Davenport. That’s how she came up with this condition that my brothers and my uncle and I get married before we can claim our inheritance.”
I rub my forehead.
My friend Skylar and her husband Nathan Davenport started out exactly like this. Now they're disgustingly in love.
But James Hamilton is no Nathan Davenport.
I'm setting myself up to get hurt. But Freya's future will be secure. I’ll have a shot at my own kitchen. Only a fool walks away from that.
Unaware of my thoughts he continues.
"We’ll be husband and wife in front of my family and my investors. But at home, we’ll have different bedrooms.”
"We’ll be living together. And working together." I pale. “We’ll be together almost all our waking hours.”
So far, I’ve had a home to go back to and decompress for a few hours each night.
If I were to live with him, as well…it’s only a matter of time before I give into this draw for him. And then I’m sure to catch feelings.
"This is never going to work." I tighten my hold on the papers.
"Why not?" He frowns. "I promise to be the perfect gentleman."
That’s the problem. I don’t want him to be a gentleman. I want to jump his bones the first chance I get.
I want to give in to this desire crackling in my veins whenever I think of him. I want to submit to him.
But what if he’s harder to live with than he is to work with?
