Page 20 of Kissing the Boss (Fairy Tale Quartet 2)

I blurted out a laugh. “Why would you even take on such a bet?”

After a long-suffering sigh, he murmured, “Because I thought my sister loved me and wouldn’t dare be so torturous. But I guess I thought wrong.”

Unable to help myself, I laughed again. “Poor you.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he agreed before turning away and starting through the path again. “I probably shouldn’t mention this was her second costume choice, because they didn’t have her first choice in my size.”

I made a sympathetic sound. “Too bad.”

“No, no. Trust me, Maleficent was preferable.”

“Oh, boy.” My eyes grew wide, and I quickened my pace to keep up with him. “Now I gotta know what her first choice was.”

“Let’s just say, if I had to dress as a woman, I’d rather be an evil force of nature than something frilly and pink.”

“Little Bo-Peep?” I immediately guessed.

He barked out a surprised laugh before stopping fully and turning to gaze down at me. I still had no idea what his expression looked like, but this time, it felt softer. “Not even close.”

Talk about close. He suddenly felt incredibly close. Like inches away.

And dear God, his voice. All quiet and melodious like that, it did things to me. Lust coiled in my stomach as a masculine heat seemed to smolder from his skin and radiate straight into mine. I shuddered and swallowed back my rising response, even as I breathed his scent in deeper.

I don’t know what the heck my problem was. So I was in the presence of a tall, good-smelling, pleasing-voiced, attractively proportioned guy? Why ever would that interest me?

Maybe because I was a woman attracted to tall, awesome-sounding, awesome-smelling men with big presences. And it’d been way too long since I’d last been on a date.

Okay, that made sense.

Clearing my throat, I scratched at the side of my neck where my mask was rubbing my skin raw. Then, because I could barely see anything in the dark through the eye holes, I took it off completely. The gloves went next.

While I tucked the gloves into the helmet, Maleficent stepped closer, totally invading my personal space, as if my mask removal had been some kind of invitation.

“Uh,” I said, gazing up at him and blinking stupidly. Did he really have to stand that close? Because he smelled incredible, and I was kind of worried I’d move my nose right up into the crook of his neck and start nuzzling if he stayed there much longer. And that wouldn’t be em

barrassing at all. Nope.

Honestly, as long as it had been since I’d had any kind of human contact, he was practically begging me to put my hands on him.

When he slowly reached toward my head, I held my breath, wondering if he was going to be the one to put his hands on me and touch…

He went for my hair.

I practically purred over how lovely and sweet it felt.

Before I’d left the apartment, I’d whipped my wet mane up into a quickie bun because I’d been pressed for time and no one would see my hair anyway. But I must’ve been in such a rush I’d missed a chunk. He picked up the stray strands that had been hanging over my left ear and held them up until the moonlight reflected off them, making them glow nearly silver in the dark.

“Blonde,” he said simply as if he’d just answered a question he’d had.

I reached for him to touch his… Well, I don’t know what I would’ve touched, just any place on him he’d let me. But thank God it was dark, because I caught myself before making contact and probably a total fool of myself.

“Right. I have blonde hair.” I cleared my throat and jerked my hand back to my side. “I think the statue’s this way.”

Darting past him, because standing so close to him was making me tingly in spots I probably shouldn’t be tingly, especially in the presence of a complete stranger in the dark, I fled from all the heated sensations he stirred and hurled myself through the dark along the path, knowing this courtyard like the back of my hand. But when I burst into the opening where the Marcella statue sat surrounded by a fountain with a concrete lip wide enough to sit on, I slowed to a stop.

Mother, my heart sang.

After she’d died when I was six, my dad had erected this statue in her honor. It barely resembled what she’d really looked like, but I used to come out here every day, regardless, just to sit with her. Sometimes I had talked to her and told her about my day. Sometimes I had cried, missing her desperately. And sometimes we’d just sat together in silence, sharing the sunshine. It had been a while since I’d last been out there, though.

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