Page 50 of Strictly Business

“Can I be the maid of honor at your wedding?” Jade asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I roll my eyes, my heart pounding. “There won’t be a wedding,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest.

Jade just laughs, clearly not buying it. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Chapter eighteen

Amara

I’m still not used to living here. Every morning, I wake up in shock that this is my life—at least for the next couple of months—especially when I open my curtains and see the most beautiful view of New York City right outside my bedroom window.

Pumpkin, however, adjusted to the luxury the second we moved in. She’s still curled up in her bed, and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t moved since last night.

I reach for my phone, checking the time. Nicholas is probably long gone by now, so I roll out of bed and stretch, running a hand through my hair, still a tangled mess from sleep. I quickly grab my clothes, throw the covers off, and head for the door, dying to get into his massive shower with its five different water pressures and hot, steamy water that feels like silk on my skin.

“Come on, Pumpkin.” She stretches in her bed, then slowly climbs out of her bed, her little feet tapping on the floor as shemakes her way over to me. I can’t help but smirk at how lazy she’s gotten since we moved in.

I open the door, letting her pass, but as I look up, my heart stutters in my chest. There he is, standing right in front of me.Nicholas. He’s in his perfectly tailored suit, looking like he just stepped out of a magazine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in anything else. Never in sweatpants, never in a t-shirt. It’s always that sharp, sophisticated look that makes him seem untouchable.

“Do you ever not wear a suit?” The words come out before I have a chance to filter it and my eyes widen as his eyes, dark and intense, travel slowly over my body, lingering on my soft pink pajamas covered in little red hearts. When his gaze finally meets mine, my stomach does a little flip.

His lips twitch, and he raises an eyebrow. “When I shower,” he says, before adding, “and when I fuck.”

My cheeks burn instantly, my stomach flipping. I quickly glance down at my feet, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck.

“Morning,” he murmurs, with a chuckle, his voice still husky from sleep.

“Morning,” I reply, my voice hoarse as I try to clear the fog of sleep. “I thought you’d already left for work.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is it a problem that I haven’t?”

“No. Of course not,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I just thought—”

“You don’t need to hide when I’m here, Amara.” I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing he’s caught onto what I’ve been doing.

He steps closer, the soft click of his shoes on the hardwood floor sharp in the silence. I can feel his presence, like an electric current in the air between us. “I’ve been leaving for work later and later, waiting for a chance where I’d finally see you in themornings,” he admits, and I feel the air around me thicken. “And yet, I never get the chance… until I see you walk out of your room on the security cameras right after I enter the elevator.”

My heart pounds as my brows furrow, unsure what to say. I had no idea he did that, and part of me wants to ask why. Why does Nicholas Blackwood want to see me in the mornings? I swallow harshly, keeping the questions inside.

“I just didn’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing. This is as much your apartment as it is mine, Amara. Stop acting like you’re not supposed to be here.”

My chest tightens slightly at his words. “I wasn’t—” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“I’m serious, Amara,” he says, his tone softening slightly, but there’s no mistaking the intensity in his eyes. “I meant what I said. I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

My breath catches at the reminder of the card he sent along with the flowers, and my eyes wander around the apartment, noticing the flowers scattered across the living room.

“I appreciate the gesture,” I tell him, “but these were unnecessary.” Nicholas raises an eyebrow, his smirk playful. “Everyone was looking at me,” I continue, my face burning at the thought of the delivery guys and the curious eyes in the office.

His smirk widens as he leans in just a little. “I’m sorry.” His low voice makes my skin break out into chills. “Next time, I’ll adorn you with flowers in our home.”

My heart skips a beat at the wordsour home. “Next time?”

He doesn’t reply, smiling instead, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I have a proposition for you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What kind of proposition?”

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