Page 18 of Snowbound in Her Boss's Bed

“Really,” she said again, obviously still thinking of the family he didn’t have, “I don’t want to impose. There’s no need for introductions.”

She had gone from no imposition at all to one that was profound, but nowhere near the way she thought or could understand.

Of course, none of it was her fault—and he had been raised to ensure she did not feel as such.

To that end, it was time to clear up her misconceptions.

“You’re in luck on that front, Ms. Howard,” he said, “as there are no introductions to be made.”

“The doughnuts are not with your family?” she asked, offense in her tone.

He chuckled at the censure. “They are not. I believe my assistant planned to distribute them to the staff. Hopefully we are in time to intercept.”

He had not intended to reveal his lack of family to her or host her in his home, but circumstances had forced him to shift gears.

Fortunately, he could not have gotten as far as he had in life without learning to pivot.

“Not good enough for the Silvers?” Ms. Howard asked, her eyebrow lifting at the word staff, and he realized she still had not yet heard what he was really saying.

Laughing at her pique, he shook his head, before saying more clearly, “Of course not. Benjamin Silver comes from humble beginnings, if you will recall from my legend. Your doughnuts would have been more than acceptable to anyone in my family. I, however, am the only Silver.”

Ms. Howard stopped in her tracks at his side. “You’re here alone?” She looked not at him as he spoke, but around the two of them, her warm gaze spanning the massive ceilings and exposed beams.

He would have brought a palm to his face if the motion were not likely to irk her even more.

She was still not getting it.

Nor did she appear to approve.

His lips curved up at her expression.

With a small nod, he said, “I am.”

“All by yourself in the middle of the woods and snow?” She shuddered lightly on the word snow.

Again, he nodded in response to her question, eyes laughing though he did not let the sound escape. “Not a fan of snow?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not a fan of being cold.”

Angling his head at her, he teased her. “Strange. One would think you would dress appropriately for the weather if you didn’t like being cold.”

Scoffing, she retorted, “I dress for occasions, not weather, and that is because I am a civilized person from a civilized place in which the weather accommodates. I am perfectly dressed for a business meeting.”

“Spoken like a true Angelino,” he said with a smile, voice warm.

Ms. Howard waved him away with an expressive palm. “That is where I live.”

His smile faded.

Los Angeles was where she lived, and where she should be nearing even now as they spoke, looking forward to enjoying the holiday and sleeping in her own bed.

“The bigger question—” she broke into his thoughts unaware of the direction they had turned “—is what is an Angelino like yourself doing out here all alone for the holidays? Shouldn’t you be attending or hosting a new glamorous party every night for the next eight nights?”

It was a Hollywood image, and probably even enjoyable, for all that it was nothing like his reality—which she persisted in misunderstanding.

Likely, the concept of family was so secure and immutable that she could not imagine that one could be without it—that the whole of it could be suddenly and violently torn away from you.

He envied her that.

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