Page 23 of Snowbound in Her Boss's Bed

His glacial eyes had melted somewhat in the light of the fire, warming even further the longer they held hers.

She should have been on her way to West LA to spend the night catching up with the dear friends with whom she didn’t get enough time these days.

Instead, she was staring into the eyes of one of the richest men in the world.

She touched the top rim of her glass to his before drawing it back, maintaining his hypnotic gaze as she drank to his words.

The fire crackled, its light dancing across their profiles, and his expression deepened, darkened.

The chilled wine danced across her tongue and her cheeks heated with the sensation, her breath fluttering for a moment at the intensity of him.

Outside the storm raged, powerful enough to make it unclear as to whether or not the sun still hung in the sky. This late in the year, however, the simple time of day—approaching 4:00 p.m.—meant that the star’s descent had to be near.

Hanukkah would officially begin soon.

And here she was.

Her experience with Mr. Silver thus far had been surprising and compelling and challenging and stimulating.

She could think of many words that might be used to describe the man in front of her—powerful, attractive, intelligent and demanding came to mind—but she wasn’t here to do that.

She was only here because of the gala and because the hand of fate had forced it, not to spend time with Mr. Silver.

“The rosé is fantastic,” she said into the silence that had stretched out around them following their toast and first sips.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ve only recently begun to add them to my collection.”

“Rosé not high enough brow for your collection?” she teased, but he smiled.

“On the contrary. You keep forgetting that I don’t come from money. There’s very little that I’m too highbrow for. I simply had not yet had time to learn about it. I choose my own wines—it makes it that much more personal to drink them.”

Miri was glad her skintone kept most people from noticing her blushes.

Anyone who was astute or knew her well would see it right away, but that wasn’t most people.

Most people just thought Black people didn’t blush.

She didn’t think Mr. Silver would be one of them, but they had also just met. He didn’t know her.

“It’s easy to forget your humble beginnings when you’re living out here in the isolated wilderness like only somebody with money would,” she teased. “Nothing says old money like minimalism and luxurious isolation.”

With a laugh, Mr. Silver gestured around the plush enormity within which they lounged and said, “As you can see, I’m no fan of minimalism...”

“But the isolation,” she countered. “Regular people prefer to spend their time with loved ones rather than snowy mountains.”

But instead of laughter, as she was coming to expect from him in response to pushback, a shadow came to his chill gaze. “And here again, rather than disproving your theory, I am the case in point. I would spend my time with my loved ones lavishly, had I the opportunity. Unfortunately, I do not, as they no longer exist.”

“What do you mean they no longer exist?” she asked, something in her resisting the obvious.

He had told her many times now, she realized, in different ways. His mention of being the only Silver, but she had assumed he meant the only Silver in residence. Not the only Silver at all.

“I mean they are dead.” He confirmed what was only now dawning on her. “My most recent parents died in a boating accident just after I finished high school.”

“And you don’t have any siblings?” she asked, barreling on insensitively as if she had lost her mind.

It was just so unbelievable that this incredibly powerful and wealthy man could actually be alone in the world.

Shaking his head, he said, “No. I was a later-in-life adoption for the two of them, raised and doted upon as an only child. Neither of them had siblings of their own and their parents had passed away long before they had even considered adoption.”

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