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“Ethan, Dr. St. Clair is here to see you.”
I look up from my desk to find my assistant, Yvonne, standing in my doorway, chewing on her thumbnail. She’s probably nervous about letting Amelia in since the last time she was here was to drop off the brochures that she lied about us agreeing to give to my clients.
Glancing at the clock, I notice it’s a quarter to twelve, so just before lunch. I planned on going over there in fifteen minutes, but it seems she’s beat me to the punch—and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.
“Bring her back, please.”
Yvonne nods and scurries off, giving me just enough time to finish writing down my thoughts as the scent of lemons hits my nose. Looking up, I find Amelia standing tall with her shoulders back and her delectable body encased in a dark gray dress. The woman must own a dress in every color, but I’m not complaining. Dresses make for easy access.
“Mr. Fuller.”
Her greeting makes me cautious. “Dr. St. Clair.”
“Do you mind if I close the door?” She gestures behind her.
“Please do.”
She shuts the door gently and then walks to one of the chairs on the other side of my desk, slowly taking a seat while keeping her eyes locked on mine. “How was your weekend?”
Her question catches me off guard, but I decide to roll with it. “Good. You?”
“It was good. Long.” Silence descends between us before Amelia clears her throat and speaks up first. “So, I’d like to talk to you about Friday.”
Leaning back in my chair, I clasp my hands over my knee and reply, “Okay.”
She takes a deep breath and then delivers her statement. “I understand that you were caught off guard by Brayden’s phone call, but I don’t appreciate the way you spoke to me after, nor the way you stormed off. Your impulsive response made me upset because one, you didn’t give me the chance to explain why he was calling, and two, you assumed something about me that isn’t true.”
“Which is?”
“That I would go back on my word. I don’t do that.”
“Well, I’m sorry that I made that error.”
“And here’s the thing,” she says, crossing one of her legs over the other in her chair, drawing my attention to her tan and toned skin. “If you knew me better, perhaps you would understand that.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that maybe we should get to know each other better before this physical thing escalates between us.”
“That’s not what I proposed.” Panic begins to radiate from my chest. I’m not looking for dating; I’m looking for fucking. That’s the only reason why I gave myself permission to enter into this arrangement with Amelia in the first place because I knew that doing anything more than that would send the wrong message—to her and to me.
I don’t want a relationship. I don’t have time for that in my life.
But hell if I can walk away from this woman now.
“I understand, but I’m requesting to make an amendment to our agreement.”
As Amelia stares across the desk at me with determination and sincerity in her eyes, my original question pops up in my head. “Well, are you still dating Brayden?”
“No, and I wasn’t. We only went on one date. He was returning my phone call from earlier, the one where I planned on telling him that I would no longer be dating him. And you would have known that if you had let me explain. I meant what I said—I want exclusivity with you.”
I stand from my chair and begin to pace around my office. “I don’t know if we can really put a label on what we’re doing, Amelia. But if I have to see that guy put his hands or lips on you again, I’m going to chop off his hands myself.”
Her lips lift. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. It’s done.”
I stare down at her and then slowly stride in her direction. “I’m sorry.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you don’t say those words very often?” she teases.
“Because I don’t. But I do agree that perhaps this is moving too fast.” I need space from you, time away, to gain my bearings again.
“Oh.”
“I agree that maybe getting to know each other is a good idea, but this arrangement is primarily physical for me. I don’t need the other stuff.” But does that mean you don’t want it, Ethan?
A flash of disappointment moves across her face, but she recovers quickly with a nod. “I understand, but I’m telling you that I do. So if this is a problem, perhaps we should part ways right now.”
“Amelia…” I start, trying to find a way to explain to her why I can’t give her more, even though deep down I know I don’t want her to leave.
She stands from her seat in front of me with just a few inches of space between us. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled then. Have a good day, Ethan.” Twisting away from me, she begins to head for the door, but I grab her wrist and pull her back to me, framing her face in my hands.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to my office,” she repeats breathlessly. “I have work to do.”
“Don’t go.” Debating on how to save this conversation from going completely south, I reach for a last-ditch effort. “Want to actually have lunch with me tomorrow? Not our usual lunch meetings, but…”
“You mean, share a meal?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you didn’t want more…”
