Page 3 of Snowbound in Her Boss's Bed

Unfortunately, she was not off to a great start when it came to the billionaire, whom she had only been able to speak to for the first time yesterday—after emailing and reaching out to him multiple times a day every business day for the past two weeks.

Even more unfortunately, the moment had not been at her best.

“Virtual meetings leave questions, and I don’t have time for follow-up calls,” the man on the other end of the line had said in the kind of voice that narrated women’s fantasies.

Deep and smooth, each perfectly modulated word vibrated with power and wealth.

Even, apparently, when he was being unreasonable.

Miri held back her frustrated sigh.

That he felt that way was a problem. As the board liaison assigned to the annual gala, Mr. Silver was the man she needed to work with.

He also currently resided outside of Aspen in Colorado, whereas she was operating out of the foundation’s primary offices in Los Angeles.

“I have two hours to spare for this,” he’d continued, the smooth chords of his words reaching through to the phone to once again wrap around her. “And that means we need to get it all done in one go, rather than meet virtually or exchange a thousand emails.”

As gorgeous as it sounded, he chastised her with his mention of emails—of which she had sent many—before carrying on with his baritone bulldozing.

“You’re going to fly out here tomorrow morning. We will spend a couple of hours making necessary calls and final preparations for the gala, and then you’ll fly home. You will have the rare privilege of my complete attention, after which I don’t expect to hear from you again until we meet again on the night of the gala.”

Nothing about his suggestion was at all reasonable.

The following day, the day he was proposing they meet in person, was the first day of Hanukkah. And as if that weren’t enough reason not to demand a sudden meeting, Miri already had a full day scheduled. Not to mention the fact that, in keeping with the tradition they’d started in their undergraduate days, she and her closest friends were getting together in the evening to celebrate the holiday.

These days they saw one another so infrequently, she didn’t relish the possibility of missing it due to travel snafus.

Plus, getting tickets and a car rental at this stage would be an expensive nightmare—even if it was going on her business credit card.

But, smiling through her slightly locked jaw, Miri had said,“I’d be happy to fly out to Aspen, Mr. Silver. I’ll coordinate travel immediately.”

On the other end of the phone line, Mr. Silver had laughed.

“That’s adorable, but no. Do you know how long it would take you just to get through the airport, let alone get a seat on a commercial plane at this time of year? I did mention that I have just two hours, did I not? It would take you that much time just to get to my home from the airport via car. No. You’ll take my plane. Are you ready for my airport’s address?”

“Sir, really, it’s no trouble,”Miri had pressed back.

She didn’t even like sharing rides around town. The idea of being at the mercy of someone’s plane for out-of-state travel sat even less well with her. If she was doing this at all, she was making her own arrangements.

“The flight from LA to Aspen is not long and I don’t mind a red-eye,” she’d added.

Miri hated to feel indebted to or reliant on anyone—especially for the experience of a luxury that she hadn’t asked for. When you owed people, they had a hard time allowing you to change.

If Miri was going to pull this gala off, she needed him to be open to change.

Irritation energized Mr. Silver’s voice, but the edge of it only enhanced its spine-tingling nature.

Voices like his belonged in the entertainment industry, not on the board of directors for a nonprofit organization.

“I told you we don’t have the time,” he’d said, with a firmness to his words that set off a little flame of defiance in Miriam.

He wasn’t the only one who was irritated.

“Private planes are far more likely to crash,” she said drily. “I imagine my death would create a bigger delay than the cab ride from the airport to your home office.”

Then she’d clapped a silent hand over her mouth.

Exasperation had momentarily clouded her good judgment.

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