Page 33 of Strictly Business

Chapter twelve

Amara

Imust be dreaming, because Nicholas—my boss—did not just say what I think he just said.

“Excuse me?”

“Move in with me, he repeats, his voice firm. I blink, wondering if this is a joke, or if I’m hallucinating, my brain refusing to believe it. But Nicholas’s face remains still.

I shake my head, laughing nervously. “This is crazy.”

“You living here is crazy,” he counters, his gaze scanning my tiny apartment, his brows furrowing. “This place isn’t safe for you to stay in, Amara. Especially not after tonight.”

“What does tonight have to do with anything?”

“Our engagement announcement,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “Tonight, we made it official that we’re engaged. That you’re mine.” Those simple words—that shouldn’t mean much—cause the air to get stuck in my lungs. “After today, you’ll be as much a public figure as I am, which means everyone’s eyes will be on you. Always.”

My body stiffens at the thought, his words sinking in.

“If people find out you live here,” he continues, his voice quieter now, as if the words themselves pain him. “That the wife of a billionaire lives here…”

“Fiancée,” I correct quickly. “It won’t get as far as marriage,” I remind him, shaking my head. “No one will care, Nicholas.”

“You’re wrong.” His voice deepens, his frustration evident as he takes a step closer, the only thing between us being the couch. “I care, Amara,” he says, his eyes meeting mine, dark and intense. “And I can’t, in good conscience, let you stay here.”

“Nicholas, this is absurd.” I shake my head. “I’ve already taken so much from you. A payout, a promotion…” My hand brushes the silky fabric of the dress he bought me. “This dress.”

“It’s all yours, Amara.” His voice softens. “All of it. The dress, the promotion, the empty guest room in my penthouse. Take it,” he urges. “It’s yours for the taking.”

“I can’t,” I murmur, shaking my head. It feels like one too many favors, one too many handouts, and I refuse to take advantage of him.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” His jaw tightens. “I’m not leaving you here.”

“You don’t need to do that, Nicholas. None of this was part of the contract.”

A moment of silence passes between us as Nicholas makes his way past the couch, approaching me. The air feels thicker, the apartment feels smaller as he towers over me. “No,” he agrees, his body so close I can smell his cologne. “But you work for me, and that makes you my responsibility. You’re my assistant.My fiancée,” he adds, and there’s an emphasis on the word that makes my heart flutter unexpectedly. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

His words send an unexpected shiver down my spine, and I suck in a sharp breath, trying to ignore the butterflies stirringin my stomach, wondering—hoping—that his words mean more, even though I know better.

But despite my better judgement, I glance at his lips, remembering the way they felt against mine earlier. The heat of his kiss, his control as he slid his tongue against mine, taking what he wanted…

I snap myself out of it, shaking my head. “I can’t just move. I already paid the lease for a year.”

He shrugs. “I’ll take care of that.”

“My things are all here,” I tell him. “My cat—”

“I love cats,” he cuts me off.

I blink. “You can’t be serious.”

He rubs the back of his neck, his usual smirk widening. “Okay, so I’ve never actually had a cat, but how bad could it be?”

“Pumpkin doesn’t like men,” I warn, still not sure if I’m seriously entertaining this. “She hated my ex.” Liam couldn’t stand her, and the feeling was mutual. Pumpkin would claw at his face any chance she got. Maybe she knew he was a piece of shit before I did.

“Good thing I’m not him.”

Yeah. Really good thing.

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