Page 51 of Snowbound in Her Boss's Bed

Still she didn’t give up.

“I don’t think we’re in any danger of starting a new inquisition.”

“It’s a waste of time,” he said.

“Isn’t that what we’re looking for as we wait out the storm?”

“Between the room lighting and the fire, you’ll barely notice the light of the candles.”

“I’d like to, Benjamin,” she said, soft and final.

He shut his mouth, pressing it into a straight line. Closing his eyes, he let out a breath, then opened them again. “I’ll take them down.”

“Fantastic!” She clapped as she said it, warmth blossoming in her chest at the victory, the sensation of it expanding outward like a huge bloom within her, not out of gloating but actual happiness.

It wasn’t the battle of wills—hers against his—that she was glad of the outcome.

It was the battle fought inside him, between the hard Benjamin and the open Benjamin.

Angling his wrist to check the time in the hand that held the box of candles, his voice was gruff but had a hint of humor in it—even if it was a self-deprecating kind. “I told them to have dinner prepared at six tonight,” he said. “If you want to change and have a little time to yourself and light candles before that, we should head back to the west wing. We’ll pass the spa along the way and can grab a robe, in case I’m wrong about the sweats,” he added.

Still emboldened after her menorah win, Miri teased, “Not so certain about being right anymore?”

Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he shot her a cocky half grin. “It pays to be careful, even if, like you, I am almost never wrong.”

It didn’t seem like he was talking about the fit of her clothing options anymore, but for the life of her, Miri couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that he was talking about.

He’d assessed her as he’d spoken, eyeing her like she had once again surprised him, but she had no idea why or how.

Leading her on the somewhat long walk back through his home to the west wing, he made small talk about the rooms they passed, including a private theater, a few bowling lanes, both heated and unheated indoor pools, and indoor skating rink.

Along the way, he stopped outside yet another wooden door and went inside, returning with a brilliantly white, gorgeously plush, bathrobe.

For an instant, Miri considered wearing the robe.

The hoodie suddenly seemed thin and rough by comparison.

But as one expected from a robe, its only fastener was the tie at its waist.

A body like Miri’s needed far more coverage than that.

Benjamin left her at her room door, something strangely sweet and gentlemanly about the action, before parting with plans to meet up again for dinner in the private dining area, adjacent to the couch and seating area from the night before.

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