Page 62 of Possession

“Let me know when it’s done.” Boz looks me up and down, and hangs up. “What?”

“Why are June and Miranda so skittish?” I demand.

He leans back in his chair, but says nothing.

I keep going. “Every time I go into the kitchen, June freaks and Miranda turns ghost white. Miranda won’t say a word to me, let alone make eye contact. June acts like someone will chop her hand off if I make my own sandwich. And I’m not allowed to put my dirty dishes in the dishwasher.”

Boz tips his head. “It’s what they’re used to.”

My arms drop to my sides. “They look scared. Like, really scared.”

He leans forward and puts his forearms to the desk and lowers his voice. “I’m only going to say this one more time, it’s what they’re used to.”

My expression falls. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

His full lips clamp shut, and his eyes narrow. He wants to say more, but he can’t.

Well then.

I cross my arms. “I want to make lunch, but June said you wouldn’t be happy. Is that true?”

The muscles around his eyes relax a tad. “Baby, I don’t care what you do as long as you don’t leave this house or swim in that fucking bikini.”

“Okay. That’s what I thought, but I wanted to make sure.” I exhale and try not to think of our time at the pool the other day when he turned into a walking-growling-possessive monster with an erection I’ll never forget. “I was going to be mad at you if that were the case.”

He leans back in his chair again and looks more like he did yesterday at the beach when a smirk tugs at his lips. “I can’t have you being mad at me.”

I bite the skin inside my cheek to keep from smiling. “Are you hungry?”

“Are you going to make me lunch?” His smirk swells with the playful touch of his words.

“Only because I’m not mad at you.”

“I can’t wait.”

I put a hand out. “I’m no June. Temper your expectations.”

He lowers his voice, and it doesn’t matter that he’s a whole desk width away from me, a tingle spreads across my skin when he says, “I’m not going to lie, I can’t wait … to eat it.”

I exhale and speak in a rush as I take a step backward toward the door. “Great. I mean, it’s a grilled cheese. I’m not fancy—hope you had a big breakfast before you left before the crack of dawn this morning.”

His eyes darken. “Chica, I’ll take anything you want to give me. I’m fucking starving.”

“Um…” I swallow hard. “I’ll … make you two. Do you want anything else?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off me, even when his cell vibrates on his desk in front of him. “If there’s something else, I’m here for it.”

My back hits the door. “No, that’s it. I’ll send Rocco up when it’s done.”

“I’d rather you deliver it.”

I shake my head. “Sorry. I’m bonding with the kitchen staff on top of quizzing your intern. My day is full.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you at dinner.”

I step out of the office and grab the handle to put some much-needed distance between me and my groom. “Yeah. In the dining room.”

The last thing I see is a smile tugging at the lips that I wish would kiss me more often than they do.

---