Page 55 of Snowbound in Her Boss's Bed

And though he had stopped being sentimental about his mother’s cooking a long time ago—if only because he could no longer remember what it tasted like—he realized that Miri was right.

He had thought he had forgotten it, but tasting the soup tonight, he knew that what was in front of him wasn’t it.

Miri, however, leaned back from her plate with a contented sigh. “That was fantastic. It’s just too bad we ate all those doughnuts last night.”

Laughing that she could crave more doughnuts after their smorgasbord the night before, he said, “No doughnuts tonight. But the chef did put together some delicious blackberry pie and fresh vanilla ice cream. The vanilla comes from my home in Seychelles.”

She snorted. “You know they also sell it at the grocery store.”

He laughed out loud at that.

There again was that spine, and it was even sexier showing up when she wore nothing but a robe.

“Wait until you taste it before you say that,” he challenged, appreciating the way her cheeks shone in the firelight and the aftermath of wine. “I can guarantee you’ve never put anything in your mouth quite like it.”

A familiar duskiness came to her cheeks, a blush darkening them without diminishing any of their glow.

On the surface, he spoke of vanilla but they both knew he suddenly made promises that didn’t have anything to do with dessert.

They both understood it, and they were both curious—at least, according to the look in her eyes and the heat of her cheeks.

Watching her, he fought the sense of possession that rose within him.

She was not his, regardless of the fact that she wore his robe and had eaten the food of his world.

Persephone had not been allowed to leave after consuming pomegranate seeds.

They’d had multiple meals now.

Didn’t that mean she couldn’t leave?

He was surprised to realize he didn’t want her to.

Aspen was his private sanctuary, but he was enjoying sharing it with her.

Across from him, Miri cleared her throat, and then shocked him with the words, “So what are we waiting for, then? Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

She had to have been aiming for something else, something tough or playfully combative, he guessed—not the provocative challenge that came out.

At least, that was what he surmised by the way her eyes widened after the words left her mouth and her face flamed even further, her plump lips dropping open.

He had kissed those lips only the night before, and she had ended up on his lap when he had.

Could the same happen two nights in a row?

The answer should have been a resounding and absolute no, but it was not.

Instead, he wanted to put the question to the test, to see where she ended up in that little robe.

But he would not act on his impulses.

Things had gone too far last night on impulse. There was no sense in pushing the boundaries for a second night in a row.

Rising, acutely aware of the pulse and throb of each blood vessel in his body, some of which were more insistent than others, Benjamin said smoothly, “If you knew how much I wanted to, Miri.”

Words, it seemed, had abandoned him, too.

Whatever he’d been left with had him moving toward something he knew he wasn’t supposed to have with unstoppable purpose, careless of all the reasons why he should not.

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