His Contract Bride

Falling For The Contract

The drive back to Ikoyi was silent.

Amara sat as far as possible from Jason in the back of the Maybach, staring out the window, her fingers touching her lips. They still tingled where he kissed her.

In the boardroom, she could pretend it was acting. But in the car, alone with him, the air was too thick.

Jason was on his phone, typing furiously, his jaw tight. He hadn't looked at her since they left the building.

That kiss, Amara finally said, her voice small. You didn't have to do that.

He didn't look up. I had to. David set a trap. If I didn't, they would vote against me tomorrow and my father loses everything.

It felt... real.

That is called acting, Miss Amara. You should try it sometime. His voice was cold again, like the Jason from the jet, not the Jason who kissed her.

Amara felt her chest hurt. Acting. Right. Of course.

When they got home, Jason went straight to his wing without another word.

Amara went to her room and locked the door. She called her mother.

Mama? How are you?

Amara! My daughter! Edith's voice was strong, happy. The doctors came today! A big private hospital in Lagos! They said a man paid for everything! They moved me to a private ward! They said I will do surgery next week and I will be fine! Who is this man, Amara? Did you get the job?

Amara started crying — this time happy tears.

Yes, Mama. I got the job. A very good job in Lagos. Don't worry about me. Just get better.

After the call, she felt guilty and grateful at the same time. Fifty million. Her mother's life. Was a fake kiss really something to complain about?

At midnight, there was a knock on her door.

She opened it. Jason stood there, in a black shirt, holding two cups.

Mrs. Agatha said you didn't eat dinner, he said awkwardly.

Amara stared. Is that... tea?

Chamomile. For... for nerves. You were shaking in the boardroom.

He entered and placed the cup on her table. He didn't sit.

About today, he said, his voice low. I crossed a line. The contract said no... that. It won't happen again.

Amara's heart sank, but she nodded. Okay.

But I need to ask you something, he continued, looking at her seriously. Vanessa told the board we are fake. She will keep digging. My father is getting worse. The doctor said he has maybe three months. He wants a grandchild.

Amara choked on her tea. A grandchild?!

Not a real one, Jason said quickly. A... a lie. We tell him you are pregnant. Just to make him happy before he dies. Just for two months. Then we say we lost it. It's cruel but...

You want me to fake a pregnancy too? Amara stood up, angry. First a wife, now a baby? What next, Jason? What else will you buy with your fifty million?

Jason stared at her, surprised by her fire.

I am not for sale like that! I am a person! I have feelings! You can't just kiss me in front of everyone like I mean something to you and then come here and say it was acting and then ask me to fake a baby!

Her chest was heaving. Tears in her eyes.

Jason was silent for a long time. Then he did something strange.

He reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

You are right, he whispered. You are a person. And I am sorry. I have been treating you like a contract. You are not.

His thumb stayed on her cheek. His eyes dropped to her lips again.

Amara's breath caught.

For a second, they both leaned in. The space between them disappeared. His breath on her lips. Her heart pounding.

Then his phone rang loudly.

He stepped back instantly, like he woke up from a dream.

It's my father, he said, his voice hoarse. I have to go.

He left quickly.

Amara stood alone in her big, cold room, holding the warm cup of tea he brought her, her cheek still burning where he touched her.

Outside, the Lagos moon was bright.

She had signed a contract for 12 months. No love, no s*x, no complications.

She had promised herself she would never fall for a billionaire who bought her.

But as she touched her lips where he kissed her, as she held the tea he made for her when no one was watching, she realized with terrifying clarity.

She was already falling.

And Jason Cole, the cold billionaire who said he hated weak women, had just started to fall too.

He just didn't know it yet.

And the contract that was supposed to keep them apart was the only thing holding them together.