The Royal Holiday Love Contract

"Two weeks, pretending to be in love with… you."

Mira whispered.

"Is that a problem?"

Elara asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I am told I am quite a catch on paper."

"On paper, sure. You’re a skyscraper."

Mira said, standing up.

"But in person, you’re kind of a lot. You’re bossy, you’re scary, and you just fired me for falling from a ladder on you!"

"I’m hiring you for something better!"

"Can you even be nice?"

Mira challenged, crossing her arms.

"If we’re supposed to be in love, you have to, like, look at me without wanting to audit my taxes. You have to be… soft."

Elara stood up, walking around the desk. She was several inches taller than Mira, and she used that height to her advantage, stopping just a breath away. The air between them crackled.

"I can be whatever I need to be to protect my life, Ms. Summers."

Elara said, her voice a silky rasp as she reached out, her fingers hovering just near Mira’s jaw before she pulled back.

"The question is, can you… handle it?"

Mira felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the office’s air conditioning.

"Fifty thousand,"

Mira said, her voice trembling slightly.

"And you buy the expensive flour for my Nana’s bakery for a year."

Elara reached out her hand.

"Deal."

Mira took it, as Elara’s hand was cool and firm.

"But on one condition,"

Mira added, and Elara rolled her eyes.

"What now?"

"You have to tell me your favourite Christmas movie. I need to know what I’m working with."

Elara stared at her, deadpan.

"Die Hard".

Mira gasped and was horrified.

"We have so much work to do."