Accidentally Yours, Mr. Grumpy

The Negotiation

"You're sarcastic," Noah observed.

"You're observant."

Noah's lips twitched. It might have been the beginning of a smile, or it might have been indigestion. With him, it was hard to tell.

"There are clauses," he continued. "No romantic involvement with third parties during the contract period. No public arguments. No revealing the nature of the arrangement to anyone outside our legal teams. No—" he paused, "—emotional entanglements."

"Emotional entanglements?"

"This is a business arrangement, Ms. Williams. Not a romance novel. I don't do love. I don't do feelings. I do deals. If you start developing... attachment ... it complicates things."

Ava stared at him. "You really think I'm going to fall in love with you?"

"I think women have tried before."

"Well, rest assured, Mr. Blackwood. You're about as appealing as a tax audit. I have no intention of catching feelings for a man who refers to human connection like it's a venereal disease."

For just a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Hurt? Surprise? It was gone before she could be sure.

"Good," he said. "Then we understand each other."

"One condition," Ava said, pulling a pen from her purse. "I want creative control of my business. You can invest, but you don't tell me how to run it. No interference. No 'suggestions' about my client list or my branding."

"Done."

"And I want a clause about basic human decency. You have to be nice to me in private. No yelling. No cold silences. No treating me like furniture."

Noah's jaw tightened. "I'm not nice."

"Then learn. Fake it, if you have to. You're good at faking things, apparently."

He held her gaze for a long moment, those gray eyes unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Fine. Anything else?"

"Yes." Ava uncapped her pen. "I want to know about the tattoo."

Noah went very still. "What?"

"The compass. On your back. What's it for?"

"That's none of your business."

"Everything's my business now, husband dearest. We're married, remember?"

The word "husband" made him flinch. Ava filed that information away for later.

"It's personal," he said finally.

"Everything about you is personal. That's the problem." Ava signed her name with a flourish, then slid the contract back to him. "Six months, Mr. Blackwood. Try not to be completely unbearable."