11

Damon

I tried not to grin at her impatient air. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was anxious to get on to the conceiving part. “This is the last one.” I turned the contract to the final page. My attorney had prepared it, but I was presenting it to her privately in my office at my penthouse. It felt more informal that way, and I hoped less intimidating.

I held my breath as she read the last page and signed with a flourish. When she handed it back, I signed too, and it was done. A fully executed contract, at least once my attorney notarized it, and our deal was officially beginning.

She’d been staying with me for the last three days while my attorney drew up the contract, and I prepared all the things I’d promised. I’d sensed her impatience and patent disbelief at me keeping to myself, but I’d reminded myself it had to be in writing before we proceeded.

It was now, and there was nothing to keep me from reaching out to pull her into my arms. “Let’s seal it a little less orthodoxica