Page 23 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

We lift the club and swing it again. This time, Justine sways her hips in time with our movements and I just about lose it.

Coughing, I back away, keeping my back to the camera guy on the hill behind us.

I glance back and he gives me a thumbs up, probably delighted at the ridiculous spectacle I’ve just made. That’s nothing to the spectacle of my stiff erection inside my too tight golfing pants.

Justine takes in a deep breath. She slowly lifts the club then swings again. This time she connects with the ball. It goes sailing off, more or less in the right direction and she turns to me with an enormous smile stretched across her pretty face.

“I did it!”

Despite what I’m feeling, I can’t help smiling back. “Well done.”

She flushes. “Thanks to you.”

I wave off her thanks. “Come on. Let's get over to the last hole where we can get some shade. I need a drink.”

She grins. “Me, too. I can’t believe how hot it is, right?”

She’s not wrong. Though I suspect some of the heat I’m feeling has more to do with the fine line I’m walking between doing what the board want and being really, really inappropriate.

At least, I hope it does. Otherwise that’s a very bad sign.

I need to set more boundaries. I do not need a mate bond forming—with her or anyone. I can’t afford that.

What are the chances, though? One in a hundred minotaur bulls finds his fated mate. Not even that these days.

It’s just hot and I’m tired, and I really, really need to find a moment alone.

ELEVEN

Justine

“We need to talk again about boundaries.” Ronan leans close and speaks in a hushed voice into my ear. It sends a shiver down my spine I try to disguise.

We’re heading back from lunch in the golf carts to get ready for the next activity.

Ever since the golf date, I’ve been feeling distinctly aware of his presence every time I get even a hint of a smile from him.

OK, whenever he speaks to me.

I wonder how mad I’m making him, though. His mood seems to be getting blacker and blacker.

Only, he really did genuinely seem happy for a moment when he helped me hit the ball onto the green. For a moment there, it felt like—well, like a date instead of work.

Every now and again, I catch a glimpse of this tender, caring side of him. Like when he stopped to pick up a coffee for me the morning of the meeting, or in his face when we said the fake vows.

Then the grumpy minotaur returns with a vengeance, and I’m left second-guessing every breath to avoid upsetting him.

“OK.”

We’re on our way to the second official activity for the day. The producer says the golf date went really well, and she’s happy with the footage. She took me aside afterward and told me to keep doing whatever I’m doing. Only, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Especially now he seems to be freaking out about—

“Boundaries, Justine.” Ronan snaps me back to the present.

“Um. Yes. Boundaries. Like what exactly?”

“Let’s try to keep physical touch to a minimum. Obviously, some hand holding may be necessary, but I can’t imagine it needs to go further than that. Agreed?”

My mind returns to last night and his big head snuggled into my lap. I think my pussy was so wet by the end of the night I was in danger of ruining my panties. It would be completely inappropriate. He’s my boss! Plus, he doesn’t see me like that, at all. Clearly.

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