Page 162 of The Christmas Trap

I’m relieved. "If the investors don’t pull out, then the restaurant can keep running. Which means, I have a job?"

"You do."

Some of the tension fades from my shoulders. "And to be clear, I do want the job. Definitely. And I promise never to challenge you again. Well, not unless it’s something you say which is so obnoxious that I don’t have a choice." I cringe hearing my own words, but it’s best to be upfront. Best to be truthful. I wouldn’t be truthful if I said I’d stay silent no matter what, right?

His eyes flash. A nerve throbs at his temple. "Obnoxious?"

Yeah, not the best adjective to have used. "You’re the one who said it’s best to say what you’re thinking right?"

He nods slowly.

"You have to admit, some of the things you say are not conducive to the workplace."

He curls his fingers into a fist. The veins on his arm stand out in relief. The cords of his throat are so pronounced, I’m sure he’s going to have a coronary. He draws in a deep breath. Another. Seems to get himself under control. Then nods. "You may have a point." He bites out the words through gritted teeth.

That’s unexpected. I look at him with suspicion. It’s not like him to agree to what I've said. Unless—a bulb seems to go off in my head. "There are conditions attached to your investors not pulling the money."

He jerks his chin. "As I said, many of the viewers are convinced what they saw was a lovers’ quarrel. Enough that my investors thought the same."

"You dissuaded them from that misconception, I assume."

His face grows closed. "Unfortunately, not."

That feeling of discomfort under my skin is now full-grown dread. And agitation. And a strange apprehension. Oh my God, I’m not going to like what he’s going to say. I’m not. I manage to tamp down my thoughts. "What…" I clear my throat. "What are you trying to say?" I say through lips gone numb. This time, not just from the cold.

He squeezes the bridge of his nose, and when he opens his eyes there’s a look of fatalism in them. "Nothing I said could convince them that we—" He frowns. "That we aren’t in a relationship. Ultimately, I had no choice but to agree to their condition."

"Wh-what condition?" I whisper.

He cracks his neck, then rolls his shoulders like he’s preparing for a fight. When he looks at me next, his expression is twisted, like he’s finding what he’s going to say deeply unpleasant. "My investors will not pull their money from the restaurant, provided we get married."

To find out what happens next read James and Harper’s best friend’s brother, marriage of convenience romance in The Unwilling Bride by L. Steele, here

Want an exclusive bonus epilogue with Connor & Phoenix? Click here

read an excerpt from Summer & Sinclair Sterling’s fake relationship romance in The Billionaire’s Fake Wife

Summer

"Slap, slap, kiss, kiss."

"Huh?" I stare up at the bartender.

"Aka, there's a thin line between love and hate." He shakes out the crimsonliquid into my glass.

"Nah." I snort. "Why would she allow him to control her, and after he insulted her?"

"It’s the chemistry between them." He lowers his head, "You have to admit that when the man is arrogant and the woman resists, it’s a challenge to both of them, to see who blinks first, huh?"

"Why?" I wave my hand in the air, "Because they hate each other?"

"Because," he chuckles, "the girl in school whose braids I pulled and teased mercilessly, is the one who I?—"

"Proposed to?" I huff.

His face lights up. "You get it now?"

Yeah. No.A headache begins to pound at my temples. This crash course in pop psychology is not why I came to my favorite bar in Islington, to meet my best friend, who is—I glance at the face of my phone—thirty minutes late.