Page 44 of Strictly Business

“Clearly.”

Before I can respond, he leans over me, one hand brushing against my stomach as he pulls the belt into place.

His hand lingers just a second too long, his knuckles grazing my side as he buckles the strap. The space between us feels suffocatingly small, his cologne—clean, sharp, and expensive—filling my lungs.

“There.” His voice is low, almost rough, as his eyes flick to mine. “You’re secure now.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t. My pulse is hammering so hard I’m sure he can hear it.

Nicholas pulls back, settling into his seat like he didn’t just steal all the oxygen from the cabin. “You ready?” he asks, putting on his headset and flicking a series of switches.

No. Not even a little. But I nod anyway, gripping the edge of my seat like it might save me from falling out of the sky.

Nicholas wraps his hands around the dual controls, moving with precision as the helicopter lifts off, the ground dropping away faster than I’m prepared for. My stomach drops as we rise higher, the city shrinking below us. My eyes squeeze shut, my knuckles turning white as I cling to the seat.

“Amara,” Nicholas’s voice cuts through the noise after a moment, his voice clear through the headset. “Open your eyes.”

I shake my head tightly, keeping them squeezed shut.

“Are you—” He pauses, and I hear the sharp exhale of breath through the line. “Amara. Are you afraid of heights?”

“Not… afraid,” I manage to say, though my voice betrays me with a shaky tremor.

“Don’t lie to me.” I risk opening one eye, catching the faintest flicker of irritation in his profile as he glances at me. His jaw is tense, his hands relaxed on the controls as the helicopter levels out. “Are you scared?”

I force myself to nod, heat creeping up my neck. “A little,” I admit.

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

“It matters.” His tone is clipped, but the words feel heavier than they should. “Of course it fucking matters. I wouldn’t have brought you up here if I’d known.” He curses, shaking his head. “I just thought you were doubtful whether I was qualified or not. I didn’t think you had a fear.”

I hesitate, my gaze flicking to him. He looks completely at ease, like he was born to do this. “It’s fine,” I say quietly.

Nicholas’s grip tightens slightly. He shoots me a look. “Don’t you dare say it’s fine. I would never put you in this position if I knew.”

I don’t respond, my hands still clutching the seat as we fly higher, forcing myself to loosen my grip on the seat.

“I didn’t know you flew helicopters,” I say, trying to distract myself.

“I told you, Amara. There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he replies.

I glance at him, his profile stark in the soft cabin light. He’s right. I don’t know him. Not really. Not beyond the obvious details, like how he takes his coffee—black, no sugar—or how every suit he wears looks like it was made to fit him and only him.

I shift my focus outside, and this time, the view doesn’t twist my stomach as much. “It’s beautiful up here,” I admit.

“It is,” he agrees, his voice softer now. I turn to look at him as he leans back just slightly, his grip on the controls steady, like this is the most natural thing in the world for him. “Flying is one of my favorite things.”

His shoulders, usually held with the tension of someone always ready for the next move, are looser now, and there’s something in his expression I’ve never seen before.

“Up here, it’s quiet,” he continues. “No deadlines. No meetings. No bullshit. Just me and the sky.” His words catch me off guard. “The color of the sky at night is my favorite sight in the world,” he adds. “And the city lights glowing beneath it? Closest thing to magic I’ve ever seen.”

I don’t reply, too caught in the way his voice dips as he speaks, like he’s letting me in on something private.

“You okay now?” he asks after a few minutes, glancing at me briefly, his brows drawn together in concern.

I nod, realizing that, somehow, I am. “Yeah. I guess it’s not so bad up here.” I shift in my seat, settling in. “Besides, I trust you.”

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