Page 57

“Amara.” His voice drops lower. My pulse quickens, and his fingers tighten around my wrist, pulling me closer to him.
I don’t dare look at him. I can’t. “Let go of me, Nicholas.”
He doesn’t let go. His grip tightens, sending a heat through me that I hate myself for feeling. “Amara.” He says my name again, like it’s some kind of curse. His voice is tight now, strained, like he’s holding back. “Fuck. You don’t get it. I can’t—We can’t—”
“I get it, Nicholas,” I cut in, the words tumbling out too fast. “You’re not attracted to me. You were caught up in the moment, and now you regret it.” I swallow the rejection down, tugging my wrist from his grasp. “Now let me go.” I yank my arm away from him, my feet carrying me toward my room. It’s dark, and cold in there. But I need to get away from him.
“What? What the hell are you talking about?” he calls from behind me, but I keep walking straight ahead.
“Amara,” his voice rises, and I squeeze my eyes closed, wanting to bury myself in my bed and erase this whole damn night.
“Amara, come here.”
I don’t turn around. My steps quicken as I near my bedroom door, my hand reaching for the handle.
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice dripping with frustration. “I think about you.”
I freeze, my hand just inches from the door, my heart hammering. Nicholas lets out a harsh breath behind me. I want to turn and look at him, but I also want him to keep going.
“I think about you,” he repeats. “Every day. Every night.” My pulse spikes. “At work. At home. In the shower. In my bed. It doesn’t matter when or where; you’re in my head. All fucking day.”
I gasp quietly, my lips parting at his confession, his footsteps the only sound between us as he moves closer.
“I’ve thought about that day more than I want to admit,” he continues, his voice growing closer with each step. “More than anything else.”
My fingers grip the door handle as his breath brushes against my neck.
“I think about it every damn day,” he murmurs, his hands finding my hips. Before I can even process, he spins me around and his eyes lock onto mine.
“How the hell could you think I’m not attracted to you?” His voice is low as he presses against me, something hard brushing my stomach.
I stare up at him, letting out a gasp. He curses under his breath, rough and jagged, his eyes closing for a moment as he breathes in sharply.
And then he steps back, his hands dropping from me, frustration painting his features. “Fuck,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He sighs. “I shouldn’t have watched you that day. I shouldn’t have touched you. You’re my assistant, Amara. I’mpayingyou to pretend to be my fiancée, so I can secure this deal. I moved you into my apartment. Made you touch yourself for me.” His voice falters as if the words themselves cut him. “I shouldn’t have done any of it. I should have turned the fuck away and left you alone.”
His eyes are filled with sympathy, guilt swirling in them, but something about the way he looks at me only makes my desire for him grow hotter. He never once said he regretted it, never once said he didn’t want it to happen.
“I shouldn’t have climbed into your bed and touched myself.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, closing his eyes, his face tight. “Please. Don’t bring that up right now.”
I shake my head, stepping closer, my heart hammering in my chest as I close the gap between us. “There’s nothing in the contract that says anything about us.”
His brows furrow, confusion flashing in his gaze. “What?”
“You said we couldn’t have any outside relationships,” I remind him, my body burning. “But there’s nothing in there about us. Nothing in there saying we can’t…” My words trail off, letting him fill in the blanks.
A breath leaves him, his eyes darkening with something that makes my pulse race. “You checked.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement. Heat floods to my face, tinting my cheeks with red, which I know he can see.
“Why did you look it up?” he asks, his voice rough as he moves toward me, closing the space between us. His gaze burns into mine under the flickering candlelight. “Hmm?”
I suck in a breath, my heart racing from the intensity of his stare. I can’t speak. The words lodge in my throat.
“Did you want it to happen?” he presses, his voice hushed but commanding. “Did you want me to find you naked and horny on my bed?” His eyes narrow, like he’s daring me to lie.
I can hardly breathe under his intense gaze, my body trembling. “Yes,” I whisper, the word slipping out before I can stop it.