In Love With My Boss

Clause 9

IN LOVE WITH MY BOSS - : Clause 9

Tera stared at the contract.

Ten pages. Black print. Gold stamp of Knight Group at the top. Her name already typed: MISS TERA AMARA OKORO.

Xavier Knight stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, hands in pockets, watching Abuja traffic 45 floors below. His back was broad, his white shirt stretched across it. He hadn't looked at her since the kiss. Since she was still breathing like she ran a marathon.

"Clause 1 to 8 is standard," he said, voice back to cold boss, like he didn't just kiss her against the wall like he owned her. "Working hours 8 to 8. You live where I say. You travel where I travel. You do not date other men during the contract. You do not talk to press."

Tera flipped pages. Salary: $5,000 a month. Bonus: $50,000 at end of 90 days. Mother's hospital bill paid today.

It was everything. It was more than everything. It was a miracle.

Then she hit page 9.

CLAUSE 9: COHABITATION AND INTIMACY

The Employee agrees to cohabit with the Employer in his primary residence (Penthouse, Knight Tower) for the full 90 days. The Employee agrees to share the Employer's bed when required for public or private believability of the engagement. The Employee agrees that the engagement includes real physical intimacy — including kissing, touching, and cohabitation as a real couple — to convince the Board and the Employer's family. Any child conceived during this contract will be legally recognized as the Employer's heir and will receive 10% of Knight Group.

Her hands froze.

"Share... share your bed?"

Xavier finally turned. Steel grey eyes on her.

"Did you think fake fiancée means holding hands at dinners, Miss Tera? My family is old money. My grandmother was married 50 years. She can smell a fake kiss from 10 meters. My board has private investigators. If we fake it, we do it for real. Or we lose $2 billion."

"And... bear my heir? Child?" Her voice cracked. "Mr. Knight, I'm your assistant, not —"

"My baby maker?" He finished her sentence from earlier, a small intense smile. "You said that already. Downstairs. Before you kissed me back like you wanted to stay there forever."

Tera's face burned. "I did not —"

"You did." He walked to her, slow. Each step made the black marble echo. He stopped right in front of her desk, leaned down, hands on the desk, caging her again but not touching. "Your hands were in my suit, Miss Tera. Your mouth —" his eyes dropped to her lips, still swollen from his kiss, "— made a sound when I touched your waist. Do you want me to pretend I didn't feel that?"

She couldn't breathe. The office was too big and too small at once. The scent of him — rain, expensive cologne, power — was everywhere.

"I need this job," she whispered. "My mother —"

"Is dying in 7 days if you don't pay. I know." His voice softened, just a fraction. "I already paid, Tera."

She looked up, shocked. "What?"

He slid his phone across the desk. Hospital receipt. PAID IN FULL. ₦15,000,000. National Hospital. Patient: MRS. NGOZI OKORO. Paid by: KNIGHT GROUP, XAVIER KNIGHT.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Hot, real.

"You — you paid — before I signed?"

"I pay for what I want, Tera. And I want you for 90 days. Real."

He reached — slow, asking — and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. His thumb was hot. Rough. His touch lingered.

Tera's eyes closed without permission. A shiver ran through her.

"Clause 9 is not forced," he said, low, near her ear again. "You can say no. You can walk out, take the hospital payment as a loan, pay me back in 5 years working somewhere else. I won't stop you."

She opened her eyes. His face was inches away. That scar on his lower lip. Those steel grey eyes that were not cold anymore, but hot, possessive, breath-stealing.

"But if you say yes," he whispered, "you are mine. For 90 days. Real kissing. Real touching. Real nights. In my penthouse. In my bed when I need to make it believable. And maybe..." his thumb brushed her lower lip, soft, "maybe more than believable, when we both want it."

Tera's heart hammered. She thought of her mother, breathing without machine tonight because this man paid. She thought of his kiss — fiery, possessive, the first kiss in three years that made her feel alive. She thought of Clause 9 — share bed, bear heir — it was insane. It was a romance novel plot.

But she was already in a romance novel. She was already in love with her boss and she had known him for 20 minutes.

She picked up the gold pen.

"Where do I sign?"

Xavier's eyes darkened. Something possessive flashed — like a man who just got told the woman is his.

"Here." He flipped to last page. His hand covered hers, guiding the pen. Hot. Large. "Sign, Miss Tera."

She signed. Tera Amara Okoro. Her signature shaky.

He signed under hers. Xavier Knight. Bold, black, slashing.

Then he did something that made her gasp.

He pulled her up from the chair, in one smooth motion, and kissed her again. But this time not against the wall. This time, slow. Deep. Real. His hands — both — on her waist, pulling her into him, his mouth taking hers like he owned it, like the contract gave him permission.

Tera moaned into the kiss, her hands on his chest, then his neck, then in his black hair. Fiery, intense, breath-stealing. Real romance. Her tongue touched his, shy, then bold. He growled and lifted her — just slightly — onto the edge of his black marble desk, papers scattering, her black skirt riding up just a little, his body stepping between her knees.

"Mr. Knight —" she breathed between kisses, lips swollen, eyes closed, "we are in office —"

"My office," he said against her mouth, kissing her jaw, her neck, soft kisses that made her arch. "My desk. My assistant. My fiancée. Clause 9 says I can kiss my fiancée whenever I want, Miss Tera. Even in office. Even on desk."

His mouth found hers again, deeper, his hand sliding up her back, under her white shirt just slightly, hot skin on hot skin. Tera shivered, her legs holding his waist without thinking, her whole body saying yes yes yes.

The intercom buzzed. Loud.

"Mr. Knight, board is here."

Xavier broke the kiss, forehead against hers, both breathing hard. His lips were wet from her. Her face was flushed.

"Let them wait," he growled into intercom, not looking away from Tera. Then to her, low, "We have a penthouse to go to. You live with me now. Pack nothing. I bought you everything. We leave in 10 minutes."

He helped her off the desk, straightened her skirt with hands that lingered on her thighs, possessive, then fixed her shirt, button that had come undone when he kissed her neck.

"Welcome to Knight Group, Mrs. Knight-to-be."

Tera touched her swollen lips, heart racing, contract signed, mother saved, and a billionaire boss who just kissed her with fiery, possessive hunger on his desk and called her his.

She was in love with her boss.

And it was only Day 1.

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