When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 39

Amelia

“George, time for your meds,” I said quietly. “I mixed them into your tea.”

I crept toward the study, careful not to spill the hot tea in my hands.

He glanced up from his reading, a warm smile spreading across his wrinkled face as he set the magazine down. “Amelia, you’re too good to me.”

George took the cup and took a slow sip, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. “It’s been almost a month since William passed. Feels like my body’s trying to follow him, little by little.”

“Seeing you reminds me so much of him when he was younger,” he went on, his eyes far off in memory. “We’d sit in rooms just like this after the markets closed, breaking down every trade.”

“I’m sure he’d be glad to know you’re thinking of him,” I said, my throat tightening out of nowhere. Missing my grandfather still hit me like a punch to the gut, every single day.

George set his empty cup down and changed gears like it was nothing. “So, tell me about you and Ethan. How’s it going with him?”

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Of course he’d go there. “He’s been fine. Nothing to worry about,” I said, hoping my short answer would shut down the topic.

“That’s not what I’m getting at,” George said, his gaze sharpening like he could see right through me. “I’m asking about how you feel. Has your take on that boy shifted at all?”

I looked down, feeling exposed as my voice wavered. “George, you know how I grew up…”

“The way my dad treated my mom and me—it’s hard to trust people, especially when it comes to stuff like this.” The words felt heavy as they hung between us.

George reached over and patted my hand, his touch gentle but steady. “I get it, kid. I really do.”

“But if that boy ever steps out of line with you,” he added, his tone suddenly fierce, “you come to me right away. I won’t let him get away with it.”

I nodded, my eyes stinging a little. “Thanks, George.”

Right then, memories of William flooded back—my grandfather, always ready to protect me, even from his wheelchair. He’d been my rock against the world’s sharp edges. God, I missed him so much.

After saying goodbye to George, I walked upstairs with mixed feelings and arrived at the bedroom where I was to spend time with Ethan.

I pushed open Ethan’s bedroom door and stopped dead in my tracks. He’d just stepped out of the shower, water still dripping down his bare chest, nothing but a towel slung around his waist. I quickly looked away, my face burning up.

“I’ll crash in the guest room,” I mumbled, already turning to bolt.

“And have my grandfather grilling me tomorrow about why I’m not taking care of you?” Ethan’s voice had an annoyed edge as he rubbed a towel through his hair.

He plopped down on the edge of the bed, giving me a hard stare. “So, what’s the deal with Emily? I’ve dug into the Thompson family pretty deep, but I’ve got nothing on her.”

I raised an eyebrow, instantly on guard. “What, you into her or something?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he shot back with a frown. “I’m worried you’re holding back family drama that could mess with… our situation.”

My mood soured fast. “Margaret dragged her to the Brooklyn brownstone right before my mom died.” The memory still stung like hell. “William was so pissed he almost cut my dad off completely.”

Ethan’s face changed just a little. “Is that why your dad acts like that toward you?”

“He’s got plenty of reasons to hate me,” I said with a bitter smirk.

Seeing me struggle, Ethan’s expression softened. “Alright, enough of the heavy stuff. Go take your shower.”

When I came out of the bathroom, Ethan was propped up against the headboard, scrolling through something on his tablet in the low light.

He put it down, his voice sharp. “Julian Bennett texted you.”

I walked over to the nightstand to check my phone, seeing Julian’s message about his flight getting in tomorrow.

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed a quick reply. Julian was one of the few people I could always count on.

Ethan clocked my reaction, and his face darkened in a way I couldn’t miss.

Without a word, he flicked off the light. “Time to sleep,” he said, his tone clipped.

The room went pitch black. I fumbled my way toward the bed, moving slow so I wouldn’t trip over anything. Then, to my complete horror, I accidentally sat right on his hand.

“Ah!” I yelped, jumping up like I’d been shocked. “You need to stay on your side! Keep your distance!” My face felt hot enough to glow in the dark.

Ethan’s cold laugh sliced through the darkness. “This is my room. I’ll sleep however I damn well want.”

I eased myself down on the very edge of the mattress, my whole body stiff with tension.

My heart was pounding so loud I was scared he’d hear it. I’d never shared a space this close with a guy before.

His steady breathing next to me carried a faint hint of some pricey cologne—something woody and fresh that made me feel both on edge and weirdly safe.

I pressed myself as far to the edge of the bed as I could, terrified of accidentally touching him in the night.

The memory of sitting on his hand made my cheeks burn all over again. “This is just a contract marriage,” I told myself under my breath.

So why wouldn’t my heart chill out? Why did I feel this weird, buzzing energy?

I gripped the blanket tight, trying to force myself to sleep.

But the harder I tried, the more awake I felt, every inch of me hyper-aware of him just inches away.

The alarm’s piercing beep yanked me out of sleep. I froze, mortified, as I realized where I was—curled up against Ethan’s chest, his arm wrapped around me, his warmth and scent completely surrounding me.

My face felt like it was on fire. I don’t think I’d ever been more embarrassed in my life.

I tried to slip away quietly, but his arm tightened, pulling me closer while he was still half-asleep.

“I’ve gotta get to work,” I said, prying myself out of his grip with effort. My voice sounded way too rattled, no matter how hard I tried to play it cool.

Ethan opened his eyes, looking at me with a stare I couldn’t read, which only made me squirm more.

When I went downstairs, I saw George already sitting in the living room reading the newspaper. I approached him with my request. “George, could I borrow your driver to get to the hospital? I’ve got to work.”

Ethan had just come down the stairs, and I caught his face darkening the second he heard me.

“Of course,” George said without hesitation, telling the housekeeper to get the car ready.

One of the staff handed me a sleek little breakfast box. “Mrs. Black, just in case you get hungry on the way.”

“Thanks, George. See you later,” I said, making a point to acknowledge everyone except Ethan as I headed for the door.

I walked out without looking back, though I could feel his stare burning into me with every step.

As I stepped outside, I heard George’s voice drift from behind me: “Ethan, we need to have a word.”