Emotion was never in the Contract.
Jayden:
Pretty Woman. That's the fantasy, right? Hot rich guy transforms a young ingenue into someone worthy, he falls in love with her, and then they presumably fuck.
Well, I'm no ingenue, but Silas has spent three days having me waxed, groomed, and poured into designer clothes in light of this trip I'm accompanying him on. And I keep thinking—this is it, right? This is the part where he finally uses me the way I've been craving since the damn Contract started. Getting on my knees for him is fun and all, but it's been a long time since I last got laid, and I'm getting a little desperate.
What I hadn't expected was a metric ton of boring homework about nineteenth-century limestone construction techniques or to be given a cover story to memorize before takeoff.
I'm pretty sure Vivian didn't have to put up with any of this. But the way Silas has taken to touching the key he keeps under his shirt is intriguing, and there's just something so inspiring about seeing him in his element.
It's been giving me all sorts of ideas.
Silas:
I brought Jayden to California for one reason: to help me close a deal. He's young and charming and, after a little work, has that look about him that makes grandmothers fawn.
It's not a holiday or a vacation. He has a role to play, a cover to maintain, and a very specific set of instructions to follow.
Given that my biggest rival in real estate development is swooping in on the property I've dreamed about for years, it's bound to be a stressful time. So having Jayden within reach seemed… practical. Convenient.
What I didn't anticipate was the way I'd reach for the key around my neck every time Caydence Ferguson got under my skin. Or the fact that touching it helps.
That's a problem.
