Ruthless Boss, Royal Mistress

Eventually his eyes opened, dark with desire. ‘I was dreaming about you,’ he muttered, his voice husky, a little rusty. ‘And here you are.’

‘Here I am,’ she agreed, pressing another kiss to his sleep-warm skin. The scent of sensuality in the air sharpened. He moved, lifting his arm across her back to hold her to him. She could feel the strength she had awakened. No escaping now.

‘Are you going to make the rest of my dream come true?’ he murmured.

Be his fantasy playmate? He was hers already—nothing could have prepared her for the way he fulfilled her every sensual wish. ‘I will if you tell me what to do.’

For a moment their gaze met and held, and the passion flamed between them. Then, with his eyes, he told her. With his hands. With his words. And she had no hesitation complying and going, as always, that one step further, rejoicing when he shook and shouted—out of control, utterly in lust. Exactly as she wanted him —with none of the bruising mask of sarcasm, just naked need. And she knew from his response that their physical journey together was far from over. The relief was immense.

Liss worked alone in the conservatory at the laptop. James spent most hours of the day either in meetings or locked in telephone and video conference calls. This time she wished he’d take more of an interest in what she was doing. She badly wanted to ask him what he thought, whether what she had come up with so far was going to be OK. She didn’t have any of the over-confidence she’d had only last week. Things seemed to be slipping from her.

But he was so obscenely busy she knew the last thing he needed was tedious neediness from her. She was distracting him enough in other ways as it was. She was the first thing he reached for when walking back in after a few hours’ absence and at night they had quite some time active in bed before actually getting to sleep.

He seemed to have no interest in being her boss any more—it was lovers’ talk, lovers’ laughter. She was the good time, the light relief, the relaxation in his spare moments. That was the role assigned to her—the box for her to be kept in.

And so, when he appeared in the doorway, she pulled on her perky persona. It was what he expected, after all. And she was determined to hide from him how wobbly she was feeling—not just about the party but about everything, especially him.

He’d awakened in her feelings she’d never experienced—a longing to be with him long term. She’d never thought of permanence before; now it was all she thought of. She pushed the fantasy from her mind and forced herself to focus, knowing it could only be a temporary fling. He’d told her so. His lust would be filled and he’d send her away.

She was always being sent away.

But even though she knew that, it didn’t stop her from trying to fight the inevitability of it—working harder, wanting to do such a wonderful job that he’d want her to stay.

She needed to work out something exceptional with the lighting—forget the impending heartache and focus on achieving something amazing. At first she’d thought candles, little votives or tea lights everywhere— creating a lover’s grotto. The flicker of warm light would flatter the skin of the beautiful people in attendance. Except, it would be a major fire and safety risk, the little candles would have to be replenished halfway through the evening—a complete hassle—and there was no way she could have the tapestries hanging in a smoke-filled atmosphere. So, the lighting was going to have to be electric. While the chandelier was magnificent, she wanted something more. Fairy lights could work. But like every other idea it had been done to death. And they’d look tack-a-rama next to the majestic chandelier.

What she needed was some good advice. Not James—too busy of course. And she needed to do this herself, wanted to surprise him, wanted to give him the intimate he’d joked about that night at the art gallery.

She could only turn to the familiar. The club she used to frequent as a teenager had always had an awesome light show and special effects and she went to see Ben, the owner, late in the afternoon. It didn’t go so well.

‘You want me to do this basically for free?’

‘Everyone will know who provided the lighting—it’ll be in the media kit—huge publicity for you.’

‘You had a ball there last week, didn’t you? Weren’t any of those contracts paid either?’

Awkwardly Liss shuffled her feet. ‘This situation is a little different. I need a favour here, Ben. For old times’ sake?’

‘Shame you didn’t think to ask me last week. I heard half the contractors were flown in from as far away as Australia.’