“Are you happy I did this?” I ask, a dart of uncertainty hitting me.
“Yup. Very. It’s time,” he says, and I pick up the many shades of emotion in his voice.
* * *
It’s goneeleven by the time the last guests tumble out of the door of my little boutique.
“Whew.” Beau locks the door behind us. “Some folks really had a good time tonight.”
“Knew we shouldn’t have given them wine.”
We look at each other, laughing.
Then he takes my hands in his. “I think you brought something real special into people’s lives.”
“I did?” My heart is glowing. I’ve got twenty-one new orders in my order book, and people kept asking about my plans for a made-to-measure range—designed to cater for curvy girls, big bear shifters, and everyone in between.
When I loop my arms around his neck, he lifts me by my waist and spins me around. I love the way he makes me feel so small and delicate in his big arms.
He looks around at the remains of the party. “Shall we close up now and deal with all this tomorrow?” he suggests.
I bite my lip, excitement fizzing in my stomach. “Yes, but I have one design I haven’t showed you yet.”
His eyes light up immediately. “Show me,” he says. And I glow a little bit more. I love the way that he’s not just supportive of my passion, but actively excited, always demanding I show him what I’m working on.
I position a chair in the middle of the shop floor and ask him to take a seat.
With a slightly bemused expression, he complies, and as I run around the store, closing all the drapes, I feel his curious eyes burning into me. Then I turn the lights right down, until a single spotlight is focused on the floor six feet or so in front of him.
“Close your eyes, and don’t move a muscle,” I say. My mouth is a little dry. I’m not used to bossing my big, dominant alpha mate around.
He throws me a good-natured smirk, acknowledging the fact.
Then I dash to the storeroom at the rear of the shop.
When I returnfive minutes later, I ignore a slight prickle of nerves and hold my head high, put my shoulders back, and focus on walking confidently in my sky-high stilettoes. I have a mate who loves me; who tells me every day that I’m the sexiest woman in the world, and the knowledge fills me with confidence.
I watch Beau as I approach, wondering if he really kept his eyes shut. But there’s no hint of that burning-sky blue between his eyelashes.
I stop right under the spotlight, trembling with anticipation.
“Open them,” I say.
He opens his eyes, and his jaw drops. Literally.
“Wow,” he breathes.
As his gaze rakes me up and down, the raw passion on his face fires my own desire.
“Like it?”
“Uh huh,” he growls, and I see his cock is already hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans.
Being desired by this big, sexy guy is intoxicating. I never in a million years imagined I’d the kind of girl who’d flirt like this. But right now, I feel like a goddess.
“Turn around,” he growls, making a circling motion with his finger.
So, I do. I circle around slowly, treating him to a full three-sixty.