The Inheritance Clause by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Three

Leo

Last night, I lay awake in bed, thinking about the clause and about Amelia. It feels like I’ve run out of options. I have twenty-nine days left to find a woman I want to marry, and the only woman I’ll ever want is Amelia. But on the other hand, she’s beautiful and young. Even if she’s attracted to my money and power, could she possibly want me for anything else? She could have anyone she wants in this entire world. Why would she settle for an older man like me when she can have a man in his prime?

I know that I’m not unattractive. As I hop out of the shower and stand naked before the mirror, I know have a lot of things women want in their men. A chiseled chest, strong arms, a full head of hair even at the age of forty-one. I don’t think I look my age, even with the streaks of gray in my hair. I know that I’d easily be able to attract someone my own age.

But Amelia, she’s too good for anyone including me. That sweet girl spends every day working herself to the bone around here, and still, she’s perfect. No frown lines crease her face. Her body is curvaceous and sexy, but she walks around here with her head down, like she has no idea how beautiful she is. Maybe she doesn’t. I want to be the man who makes her realize just how incredible she is. I want to be around her all the time. I’m not good with words, but I want to show her with my body just how amazing she should feel all the time. I want to fuck her all night long and make her body tremble with pleasure.

And now my cock is hard once again, my large member standing at attention as I look into the mirror. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t live without knowing whether there’s a chance for me and Amelia. Screw the marriage clause. If I can have her, it’ll be worth losing everything.

I dress in a black tailored suit for the day and prepare myself for what I’m going to do. It’s Saturday, which means it’s Amelia’s day off. I suppose my father was hoping that I’d spend this weekend wife hunting, but I have higher priorities.

My only priority is her.

I stalk through the long corridors of my home toward the wing where the staff lives. My father and I have always had more money than we needed, so we pay our staff much more than they would get anywhere else, and allow them to live on-site for free. It sets people up for life after employment here, and I’ve found that I like the system. Especially because for the last five months, I’ve been able to live under the same roof as Amelia.

I’ve thought about walking to her room late at night so many times before. I’ve fantasized about throwing open her bedroom door, growling like a hungry beast, and finding her asleep, naked beneath the sheets. In my fantasy, she wakes, tries to cover herself with innocence in those beautiful eyes of hers. But at this point, I’m insatiable. I throw the sheets away from her body, examining her perfect curves with a growl in my throat. Within moments, we’re both naked, fucking like animals. She cries out my name, gripping my shoulders as I move deep inside her tight little pussy…

I shake my head to rid myself of the fantasy. If I don’t get these ideas out of my head before I see her, then I won’t be able to control myself. I want her more than anything, but I have to make sure we’re on the same page. If we’re not, then this will all be way too much for her. I don’t want to scare her off when I’ve finally decided to make my move.

I stop just outside her door, preparing to knock. I can hear soft music playing inside the room, and smell oil paint wafting under the door. I smile. A rare gesture for me. I’ve always been accused of being a serious man, but I smile a lot more when Amelia is near me.

I hear a door open and turn to see my head cleaner, Rachel, leaving her room. She does a double-take when she sees me. I guess I don’t come to this part of the house often. I’ve never had any need before, and it makes sense to try and avoid Rachel anyway. Ever since she came into my employment, she’s been fawning after me. The annoying thing is that she’s close to Amelia’s age, but she’s not the young woman I’m trying to entice.

“Oh! Good morning, Mr. Harris,” Rachel simpers. I almost roll my eyes. She’s not unattractive by any means, with her short platinum blonde hair and big blue eyes. She’s thin as a pin but large chested, and I know that’s the dream for most guys. In fact, most men my age would jump at the chance to be with someone like Rachel, especially since she’s a younger woman. But not me. I only have eyes for Amelia. It’s as simple as that.

“Good morning, Rachel. I hope you’re enjoying your day off,” I say stiffly. She bats her eyelashes at me.

“Oh I am, especially now,” she purrs, looking me up and down. “Are you here to see me?”

“Actually, I was just about to call in on Amelia. I have a few things I need to discuss with her,” I say bluntly. I watch the smile fade from Rachel’s face.

“Amelia? You’re here for her?”

“That’s right.”

Rachel sniffs. “Right. Well, I suppose I’ll see you around, sir.”

With that, she stalks off down the corridor. Poor girl. We’re definitely not on the same page. Still, I’ve heard a whisper or two that she sometimes gives Amelia a hard time, Amelia has never mentioned anything so I don’t know if it’s true, so I don’t feel overly sorry for her. Anyone that hurts my woman is in my bad books.

I knock on Amelia’s door.

She takes a few moments to answer and when she opens the door, she looks a little frazzled but beautiful non the less. Still in her pajamas, her nipples pressing through her worn t-shirt. There’s a little paint on her pajama bottoms and she clearly hasn’t brushed her hair yet because it’s pretty disheveled but in a sexy bedhead sort of way. When she sees me standing at her door, she gasps. I guess, like Rachel, I was the last person she was expecting to see.

“Mr. Harris!” she exclaims, crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m sorry, sir, I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning. I thought it might be Dan…”

I feel a growl forming in my throat. That stupid boy, chasing after Amelia when she’s clearly way too good for him...does he come by often? The thought makes me see red. My blood boiling. Every possessive bone inside me wants to hunt him down and—

“Sir?”

Amelia snaps me back to the present. I clear my throat, trying to remain calm. I don’t want to make a fool of myself.

“Sorry. I’m a little out of it this morning. I just wondered if I could talk with you for a few moments?”

Amelia looks down at her paint stained pajamas and I can tell she’s as mortified as I am. We’re both clearly a little out of sorts around one another. She’s distracting me with how sexy she looks and she’s nervous as hell in my presence.

“Of course you can. Do come in. I’m sorry for the paint smell. It’s quite strong, but I’ve opened the windows…”

I step inside her room and feel her presence radiating from the place. The room screams of her delicate beauty, with her paintings decorating the walls and every inch of the room immaculate. In the middle of the room stands her latest canvas atop an easel with a stunning painting of a sunset displayed.

“You’re very talented.” I marvel, stepping closer to take a better look. Every fine brush stroke is a beautiful detail. Somehow, her talent only makes me want her more and more with each passing second. Especially when I turn to see that my compliment has made her cheeks turn scarlet.

“That’s very kind of you to say, sir. It’s just for fun.”

“These should be displayed in galleries, not in your bedroom.”

Her cheeks darken further. “You flatter me…but like I said, I’m not at that stage yet. I’m just a cleaner, after all.”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” I snarl. “You’re not just anything. You don’t have any clue how special you are, do you?”

Amelia looks shell shocked at the comment. She fiddles with her hair, seemingly unable to answer. This is all too much for her. I’m coming on too strong.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep,” I say. “I just wanted you to know how good you are.”

“I don’t receive a lot of praise,” she admits quietly. “I guess I’m just not used to compliments.”

The comment makes me sad. She should have people showering her with praise all day long. She deserves it all and more. I walk around the room, examining each picture on the wall. Amelia stands off to the side, her hands clasped together demurely. God, she’s so sweet without even realizing it.

“I just wanted to say...I’m so sorry to hear about your father passing away. I know the two of you were very close.”

There’s a pang in my chest. I didn’t realize it was so obvious to outsiders. My father and I spent a lot of time together in a business setting, but there was an unspoken bond between us that sweetened the deal. Her comment reminds me how much I miss him.

“Thank you. You’re kind to say so.”

“He was a good man. He was always kind to me when we crossed paths. And...and he raised a good son.”

I turn to look at Amelia, overcome by my desire for her. She’s the most gentle soul I’ve ever met, and her sympathy only endears her to me more, because it’s like she truly understands me. She sees me in a way no one else seems to. I’m not just a good looking man sitting on top of a pile of money when I’m with her.

I’m something more.

“I’m glad you think so...Your opinion matters to me,” I tell her, meaning every single word. She blinks several times.

“It does?”

“Of course,” I say firmly. “I like hearing what you think.”

She’s blushing again now. It makes me smirk a little. I should really stop making her blush. I clear my throat. I’m getting way off track now.

“I wanted to come here and talk to you about something. I don’t have a lot of friends, and I was hoping to find someone to confide in and I thought of your right away. You seem like a voice of reason.”

Amelia looks a little baffled. After all, we’ve barely shared three words between us over the last few months. But the sexual tension in here is so thick that I know she’s at least partially on the same page as me. And if talking to her about my inheritance clause issue gives me more time with her, then I’m going to do it.

“Well, of course. You can ask me anything, sir.”

“Leo. Call me Leo,” I insist gruffly. I don’t want to hear her calling me Mr. Harris any more, or sir. Not when I’m trying to get closer to her. Not when I’m trying to make her mine.

I wonder what she’ll think of this whole inheritance clause. If she wants this as badly as I do, maybe she’ll see it as a glimmer of hope for us. But if she doesn’t want me, I guess she’s going to steer me away from her entirely. This is the make or break moment for me and her.

I’m anxious to know exactly what’s on her mind.