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Cole will also support Amelia in connecting with potential clients for up to eight years after the dissolution of the engagement.
Amelia frowns over my shoulder. “You didn’t say there was a limit on helping me with connections.”
“Sixty percent of businesses fail within the first eight years,” I say. “If you make it past eight years, you’re fine.”
“That’s ... not necessarily encouraging.”
“You’ll be fine,” I say. “Now let’s get into your half of the deal.”
I writeDuring the duration of the engagement, Amelia will live in Cole’s apartment, wear an engagement ring, and attend events as a couple.
I tap the pen on the table, trying to think of anything I’m missing. A good contract accounts for unexpected situations.
I think, then addDuring the engagement, both parties will do anything necessary to convince everyone that they’re happily and genuinely engaged.
“No,” Amelia says. “Absolutely not.”
“Why the hell not?” I ask, exasperated. “It’s just summarizing what we already agreed to.”
“No it’s not,” she says. “It’s adding...” she motions her hand. “Stuff.”
“Stuff,” I repeat, deadpan.
“Couple stuff,” she elaborates. “Convincingcouple stuff.”
“Amelia,” I grumble, “that’s the whole fucking point—”
“It means I’d have to kiss you,” she says on a rush. “If that’s what we needed to do, to sell our fake relationship. I’d have to kiss you in public.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And that’s a problem?”
“No. Maybe,” Amelia says. “I don’t know. That’s the point. What if you have bad breath? OrIhave bad breath? Or your tongue’s a weird size.”
My smile is crooked. “Have I mentioned I love how weird your mind is?”
She’s growing increasingly flustered. “The point is, I don’t think we should sign a thing committing to a certain level of public displays of affection before we know if that will make either one of us...uncomfortable.”
I can see where she’s coming from.
And there’s only one way to fix it.
I lean toward Amelia, cradling her face in one hand.
“What are you...?” Her dark eyes widen, and her gorgeous lips part.
I kiss her. Softly at first, just my lips featherlight against her. Gentle enough to prove I’d never do anything to make her uncomfortable.
Her hair is silk where my fingertips touch it, and her mouth tastes sweet from all the sugar she puts in her coffee. I tell myself I’ll end the kiss in a moment. But I’m inhaling oranges and cream and her, and it’s so damnpeaceful. Peaceful like stepping onto a beautiful beach on the first day of a vacation. Peaceful likea place so fucking beautiful it becomes almost holy. Peaceful like the precious thing that steals your breath.
And then I feel it. Her hand on the back of my neck, pulling me closer. She lets out a jagged little moan and parts her lips for me.
Suddenly the kiss isn’t peaceful anymore.
I’m tasting Amelia for real now, and it’s enough to make a man groan, she’s that good. She’s shivering under my hands, arching toward me, and I’d give half my fortune to be somewhere private with her. Somewhere where I could help her out of that flimsy silk dress. Guide her to the bed. See where else she tastes sweet for me.
Let her know how real I can be for her.
“God, Amelia,” I murmur, rough against her lips.
