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She smiles. “Am I?”
I groan as she leans in, her eyes searching mine. Slowly, she presses her lips against mine in a chaste, closed-mouthed kiss.
The door creaks, startling us both.
Acting on instinct, I grab her hips and pull her closer, my fingers digging into her soft flesh.
Amelia gasps, her body pressing against mine.
“Oh my God,” she mutters as she shifts on my lap, pressing against the growing bulge in my pants.
A raspy breath escapes her lips as she leans back, looking at me.
Unable to resist any longer, I slam my lips onto hers in a passionate kiss. My hands roam her back, pulling her even closer and letting our tongues dance.
I lose myself, forgetting about my father, the company, everything, but Amelia.
“What the hell is going on here?” my father yells.
I glance over Amelia’s shoulder, still holding her body against mine with one hand while I lift my wrist. “Oh damn. Is that the time?”
“I asked you what was going on?” Father demands again.
I clear my throat, trying to regain my composure. “Father, I need to explain something...”
“Please do,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I take a deep breath, my arm still wrapped around Amelia’s waist. “The reason I can’t go along with your plan of marrying Elizabeth Jameson is because I’m in love with Amelia. I’ve asked her to marry me.”
My father’s eyes narrow, disbelief etched across his face. “You expect me to believe that? After I saw the photos of you coming out of that...that club?”
Amelia shifts in my lap, her eyes meeting mine briefly before she turns to face my father. “Sir, that was my fault,” she says, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in her hands. “We’d had an argument, and I needed to dance and let off some steam. The club is discreet, you see. West learned I was there and followed me. That was me dancing on the table–purposefully annoying him.”
I nod, picking up where she left off. “But we’ve made up now. We love each other, and we are not going to continue our relationship in secret anymore. That was what our argument was about. I never thought I was ready to go to the next level until I nearly lost her.”
My father’s gaze flickers between us. Shock mixes with his narrowed-eyed skepticism. “How long has this been going on?”
“Six months,” I reply without hesitation.
He runs a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. “I can’t believe this. My son, engaged to his assistant. It’s like something out of the romance novels your mother insists on reading.”
Amelia tenses in my arms, but I squeeze her, reassuring her. “It may seem sudden to you, Father, but it’s not, and we’re certain about this.”
He stares at us for a long moment, then shakes his head. “Your mother will be delighted to organize your wedding,” he says, his tone resigned. Or perhaps he’s testing me.
I swallow hard, realizing the implications of our lie. “Let us get engaged first,” I say quickly, hoping to buy us some time.
Chapter 10
Amelia
Isquint and stretch my arms upward as the morning light streams through my bedroom window. I never closed the curtains because I wanted the city lights to twinkle across the ceiling. I never thought it through because West’s penthouse is on the thirty-seventh level.
I turn my cell over and check the time. Not yet six in the morning. Too early to get ready for work. Too late to go back to sleep.
I slide out of bed, my toes sinking into the plush, thick carpet as I check my bag for what I have got to wear. My lack of clothes is so obvious now.
I snatch my T-shirt from yesterday, tugging it on and checking in the mirror to see that it covers my ass.