DARK HEARTS - BILLIONAIRE MARRIAGE CONTRACT ROMANCE

ALEXANDER KING

So did he.

I became something of a social pariah amongst my family. They no longer invited me to attend their fancy socialite gatherings or even simple quaint gatherings amongst immediate family.

I became invisible.

Rounding the corner to enter the exam room, time slows to a crawl and my heart pounds in my chest. Sitting on the examination table, waiting for me to examine him, is the most exquisite looking man I've ever seen. With his flawless brown skin, closely cropped coiled hair tapered on the sides and in the back, clean cut hairline, full set of lips set inside one of the best manicured short stubbly tramline shaped beards, brown eyes that smolder with little effort, and a chiseled and muscular frame to boot.

There's an ebony God – as Karen would say –on my exam table.

My footsteps falter, but I'm moving too fast to stop myself. To my horror, I land on my back on the floor, sprawled out like an idiot, with his medical records and x-rays raining down all around me.

Kill me now.

"Have you been walking long?" Alexander asks me in one of the sexiest British accents I've ever heard. His words wrapping around me like silk to my bare skin.

So smooth.

***

Dr. Rollins and his team have performed miracles before, and I am hoping they can do it again today. Blessed with my father's family curse of developing brain tumors, I feel hopeless. I've been to several doctors who either couldn't or wouldn't guarantee me a full recovery. So, I had to walk away. But the tumor inside my head isn't going away. And the longer I prolong the inevitable, the more headaches and days on end of bedrest I'm subjected to.

So, here I sit on an examination table, at the mercy of my father's oldest friend. Praying he can free me from the curse that has consumed so much of my time, life, and money.

Footsteps approach and I hold my breath. Wondering if he's coming to bring me the bad news I've become accustomed to hearing. Only, what walks into my exam room isn't an old man with graying hair and a pronounced limp from an automobile accident.

No.

What walks into my office is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. With flawless chestnut skin, an hourglass frame hidden underneath her lab coat, long toned legs, full lips, and loose dark wavy hair that falls to the middle of her back. Even with glasses on she's stunning.

With her luminous brown skin and facial features giving her an exotic edge.

Meeting my gaze, she appears stunned at first.

Perhaps she recognizes me from the piece Forbes did on me, or from the various magazines that often feature me on their covers. Whatever it is... she loses her footing, skids halfway into the exam room on her bum, and the papers inside the folder she was holding rains down around us.

Both amused and embarrassed for her, I ask, "Have you been walking long?"

Then I hold out my hand for her to take, and her brown cheeks flush a soft pink.

Utterly fucking adorable.

She looks as if she'd like nothing more than to slink away, never to be seen again. But after a few moments of cursing herself, she places her hand in mine to allow me to hoist her back to her feet.

Her skin feels as smooth and soft as it is vibrant. And I can't help but wonder if all of her feels the same way.

"Twenty-five years." She says to me.