Page 47 of Strictly Business

I hold her hand in mine, my thumb brushing against her bare ring finger. I can’t stop myself from saying it, even though I’m not sure I should. “For what it’s worth, I may never understand your idea of marriage, Amara. But I’m grateful you’re my first fake wife.”

Her lips twitch. “First, huh?” she teases.

I shrug. “Who knows? There may be other deals I need to close after you and I are done.”

Her smile falters just a little, and I hate myself for reminding us this will be over someday. She lets out a hollow laugh that makes my stomach twist. “Yeah.”

Needing to do something—anything—to distract myself from the look in her eyes, I glance down at the rings, tugging Amara with me.

“Pick one,” I tell her, her hand still in mine as I rub her empty ring finger once again. “Don’t worry about anything else but picking your dream ring.”

She hesitates, glancing up at me with that look of disbelief. “Any ring?”

I nod. “I’ll even let you keep it once this is done.”

Her eyes widen. “You can’t be serious.”

I lift my shoulder. “I won’t have a need for an engagement ring once we’re done, Amara. You keep it. Wear it, sell it, whatever you want to do.”

Her brows furrow slightly as she processes my words. “But what about when you get married in the future?” she asks. “Won’t you need it then?”

The question hits me harder than I expected. I never saw myself getting married, and while this isn’t real, Amara is the only person I see myself ever giving a ring to.

My jaw tightens at the thought of a future with anyone else. I step closer to her, our bodies now an inch apart. I let her hand go, my fingers trailing up to her chin, and tilt her head back so she meets my gaze. “If I ever do get married in the future, I won’t be giving her your ring.” Her eyes widen, her breath hitching as she looks up at me. “This one isyours, Amara,” I say. “Only yours.”

She gulps, her eyes locked on mine, the moment stretching on longer than I’m comfortable with. When she finally glances down at the rings, her fingers graze the display, her touch so delicate, and she stops on a simple ring—an oval diamond with a gold band. I tilt my head slightly, studying her expression.

“Is that the one?” I ask her.

She nods, tapping the glass. “I think so.”

A smile tugs at my lips, and I clear my throat, standing straight, calling Mr. Carrington back in.

He immediately launches into a detailed explanation about the diamonds and metals used, but honestly, I couldn’t care less. My focus is entirely on Amara, on the way she looks at the ring, the way her smile grows as the jeweler takes it out of the display and hands it to her.

She examines it carefully, her pretty lips curling into a smile that could light up a room. Her eyes widen as she falls more and more in love with the ring. God, her smile is something made by the angels, directly for me.

When she hands the ring to me, I take it with steady hands, my heart hammering in my chest. I lift her hand slowly, sliding the ring onto her finger, my eyes never leaving hers. The moment it slides into place, my heart bangs against my chest and I know that something between us has shifted.

This might be a fake engagement, but my attraction to her is anything but fake. I want her. Bad. And I’m already wondering how the hell I’m going to spend the next four hours in the car with her, never mind the next three months.

Chapter seventeen

Amara

Whispers follow me like shadows today, clinging to every step I take through the office. It’s my first day back in the office since Nicholas and I announced our engagement, andnervousdoesn’t even begin to cover how I’m feeling.

Two coworkers hover near the glass doors, leaning in close. Their conversation dies the second they see me. They look away quickly, pretending not to notice me as I walk past, but I still hear those damn whispers.

“Do you think it’s true?”

“With him? No way. She’s not even his type.”

My face burns, and I try to keep my head high, doing my best to ignore the stares and murmurs, but the words settle under my skin, prickling with every step.

This is why I told Nicholas I wanted to walk in alone today. It’s better this way. No audience, no scene. I don’t need the extra attention right now.

It’s bad enough that my sister and grandma have been blowing up my phone since the news of our engagement got out. I panicked, told them it wasn’t real and hoped to god they would believe it.

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