Page 83 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

I stare at him in astonishment as he takes a breadstick, croissants and little packages of jam and butter from the basket.He sets out two glasses with orange juice and a little dish of fresh fruit.

“Does this come close to fulfilling the fantasy?” he asks quietly, as he hands me a plate.

My throat is tight as I answer. Honestly, I’m not sure words could do it justice. I manage to say, “It’s perfect.” It hardly does it justice.

I’m longing to ask him how he’s been, but I settle for asking how progress on the show is going.

He recounts the work his marketing team have been doing and some of his excitement at the amount of interest shown from the initial testing for this series. “It looks very promising. And best of all, the board is off my case for now. It was a very good idea.” He gives me a warm and meaningful look, and I squirm with pleasure.

When Ronan finishes eating, he stretches out on his elbows with his hooves crossed in front of him while I finish the last of the fruit. “I’m afraid this morning’s activities are fixed, but what would you like to do after lunch? I can easily arrange a pedicure or a cooking class.”

I’m supposed to choose? “Whatever you’d like to do.”

He shakes his head. “No. This trip is for you. Whatever you would like to do.”

I set aside the empty plate and lean forward, intending to kiss him. I expect him to take charge of the kiss, like he always seems to. But although his lips are soft against mine, and although he makes a soft groan as he brushes my hair back behind my ear, after only a moment, he pulls away.

“Are you finished? Our tour guide at the Louvre is waiting. We’d better hurry.”

I jump up in delight and help him pack away the picnic things. For a little while, I get lost in beautiful art and the gorgeous architecture of Paris.

Something is bugging me, though.

Don’t get me wrong. Today is amazing. A contender for the best day of my life! But I keep expecting Ronan to find an excuse for us to be alone together. To take me back to the hotel and undress me slowly, and do the things to my body I’m longing for him to do.

It’s been weeks since he made me come harder than anyone else. Even though Paris is beautiful, and even though this is the most special, romantic day anyone has ever organized for me, I kinda wish he’d blow it off and drag me away to make passionate love to me for the rest of the afternoon. Well, not love, exactly. I don’t think that’s what this is. Perhaps we’ve graduated to friends with benefits, though.

Things certainly seem warm and friendly and relaxed where they never have before.

I’m being unreasonable. I can wait.

Of course I can.

I just thought he and I were on the same page about this. I never thought Ronan Kernos was a guy I’d have to beg to fuck me. Well, not unless that’s part of the fun.

Of course, now I’m all hot and bothered in the taxi on the way to the spa for my pedicure thinking about the last time Ronan made me beg. Surreptitiously, I press my legs together, trying to squash the urge to just climb in his lap and ravage him.

Ronan sucks in a sharp breath and lets it out on a groan. “Justine.”

I look around at him, wary of the warning in his tone. “Yeah?”

He leans a little closer and lowers his voice. “You’re thinking dirty thoughts, aren’t you?”

Of course, my cheeks heat up. I give him a tiny nod.

Another groan. He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he hooks an arm behind me and yanks me toward him on the seat.Then his mouth crashes over mine and builds the longing I’m feeling into desperation.

His lips tease mine. His tongue slicks into my mouth and gently caresses me. All the while he drags me closer until I’m practically in his lap.

When he breaks away, we’re both breathing hard.

Ronan trails kisses down my neck.

I’m determinedly not looking at the driver in the rear view mirror to see if he’s noticed what we’re doing. I can’t bear to stop and it will only make me embarrassed if I catch him staring.

I moan when Ronan licks my earlobe, his huge tongue and agile lips nibbling at the place on my neck that makes my panties instantly flood with moisture. “Ronan!”

In answer, he slides a hand under my skirt and rubs at the damp patch with his thumb, narrowing in on it as if he has x-ray vision or something. I gasp. I can’t help parting my legs as much as I dare, silently begging him to find just the right place. “Oh, God!”

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