Page 73 of Snowbound in Her Boss's Bed

He sounded older, his voice faded in places, when he said, “I’m afraid to lose everything I love again.”

His words reached through the space between them and into her—as if they were true for her as well.

Maybe they were?

Hadn’t she kept men at arm’s length since being hurt as a young woman? Didn’t she ache for the familial ease she’d had before she had discovered who she was?

She realized now that she had kept herself from a great deal of enjoyment and connection because of that very fear.

He had shown her that, even if he struggled to access it himself.

And there was nothing she could do to reassure him.

Her words, triggering though they clearly could be, could not convince him that he was wrong in assuming the worst for all outcomes.

And even if she wanted to, she could not be the one to show him that there were plenty of women in the world who were strong and true enough to help him carry traditions forward. The constraints built into their relationship ensured that she could not, guaranteed that everything between them would disappear with the storm—like Cinderella’s magic dissolving at midnight.

She couldn’t tease him, as much as the idea brought a sour taste to her mouth, that some of those women might even be models he met at a premiere.

How she wished she could, though—not tease him or convince him to believe in possibilities, but to be the one to prove them to him.

But that wasn’t a role for her because she already had an assigned place in his life.

She was the events director of the foundation he was involved with. As much as she was coming to hate it, the truth was that everything between them was predicated on that being the primary and most important role in her life.

A few days ago, she couldn’t have fathomed wanting it to be any other way.

What a difference a few days could make.

The difference between that and wishing there could have been room in her life to play a different role for him, a more important and permanent one.

She’d stumbled into facing her own fears with him over the past few days, but it had required a blizzard, unbelievable circumstances, and a lot of high-dollar wine.

She couldn’t give him those things—he already had them.

She could only give him what she had right now—herself.

She could give him something to remember.

Gently she placed her palms on his shoulders and pressed him back against the couch.

Eyes still locked on hers, he allowed her to push him back until he met the plush arm.

Miri leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips and his eyes closed, head angling to give her access.

She touched him softly, featherlight and sweet, knowing he needed more of that in his life, but she remained in control, pressing kisses to his lips and temples, luring and teasing him into opening up and following him.

And he did.

He had admitted his deep truth to her and now he let her tend to it, let her comfort and lull him though he so feared letting his guard down.

She kissed down his neck, pressing her lips even against the soft, thin fabric of his sweater as she traveled south.

Breath escaped him when she came to his belt.

Lifting the hem of his clothing, she exposed the skin of his lower abdomen and kissed there, too, a jolt of electricity jumping between them as she did.

Inhaling him, she removed his belt and exposed even more of him to the firelight.

Then she took him in her mouth and showed him that—at least while he was with her in this storm—it was okay to be afraid.

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