Contract Wedding, Expectant Bride. Yvonne Lindsay
shall we say, amendment, provided that both parties are willing.”
It sounded reasonable enough the way he said it. But reasonable did not explain the grim determination in the lines of his face or the single-minded purpose that reflected in his eyes. If anything had become clear to her in her dealings with her king it was that the man was nothing if not determined.
Still, his phrasing gave her the ultimate control in the end, didn’t it? Both parties had to be willing to make amendments, and there was no way she was going to change her stance on this. She would not be coerced. She would not be forced ever again.
“Fine,” she said firmly and reached to collect the contract from where he’d dropped it, together with her binder that still sat on the coffee table. “I’ll make the appropriate changes and resubmit the documents to you in the morning.”
“No.” King Rocco moved to stand beside her and took the papers from her hand. “You have a pen?”
She nodded, then removed the pen she kept inside her folder and silently handed it to him.
He took it from her and gave her another of those unwavering looks. “We will make the addendum here and now.”
Rocco sat back down and riffled through the contract pages, pausing only to initial each page before reaching the final one and adding a new clause in bold, heavy strokes of the pen and initialing that, also. Then, he struck his signature at the bottom of the page before reaching for the second copy of the contract and repeating the exercise.
The whole time he did so, Ottavia remained rooted to the spot. She wondered if he hadn’t somehow laid a clever trap for her in gaining her acceptance of the new clause. But, as she’d rationalized to herself, all she had to do was refuse to alter her terms.
How tricky could that be?
Once he’d finished, he stood up and offered her his seat. The contracts spread out on the table before her, but all she could focus on was how the residual heat of his body on the leather chair permeated the fabric of her yoga pants and seared the back of her thighs.
“Ms. Romolo? Is there a problem?” he prompted from behind the chair.
She steeled herself to pick up the pen. It didn’t seem to matter what he touched, he left a lingering impression of himself behind. She quickly flicked through the contract pages, adding her initials to his and quickly scanning the newly added clause. It seemed innocuous enough and made it quite clear that the agreement of both parties, in writing, would be sought and recorded before any amendments were made with such amendments to include sexual intimacy and other duties that may arise from time to time.
Ottavia looked up. “Other duties? Would you like to specify what you mean by that?”
He shrugged. “Who knows what may come up? We can agree upon them when they arise.”
Despite having the distinct impression he was holding something back, Ottavia bent her head and reread his addition. Basically, it still came down to the both of them being in agreement. All she had to do was disagree and she had her out. Pushing aside the anxious niggle that hovered in the back of her mind, she initialed next to his handwriting and added her signature.
There. It was done.
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