The Boss (Chateau 3)

“Thank you, sir. Won’t happen again.” He cleared his throat. “And I apologize if I’d made you uncomfortable—”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable. Just don’t make my woman feel uncomfortable in her own home.”

I let myself into her bedroom without knocking.

She was on the couch in her living room, reading. She finished her sentence before she lifted her chin and looked at me. When her eyes shifted in subtle surprise, it was obvious she expected to see me in sweatpants, not jeans and a leather jacket. “Going out?”

“Yes.” I came farther into the living room and stared her down.

She held my gaze and stayed in her seat. “Where are you going?”

“Dinner.”

Her eyes fell in disappointment, either because I was leaving her alone tonight or because she wondered who would be at that dinner. “Will I see you when you get home?”

“Yes. And you’ll see me during.”

I drove us into the city, and we entered my favorite restaurant. Reservations were six months to a year out, but when I walked in the door with Melanie on my arm, I was instantly escorted to a table without having to say a single word.

Menus were handed to us, my favorite bottle of wine was delivered to the table, and our glasses were filled.

Melanie sat across from me, her long hair in soft curls and pinned back on one side so her strands were down the opposite shoulder. Diamonds were in her ears and around her neck, and the designer dress she wore had been fitted to her exact measurements, not amplifying her beauty, but complementing it. Her eyes scanned the restaurant for a long time, taking it all in like she was beside herself to be in a place like this, dressed like that, with a man like me. She eventually brought her eyes down to the menu in her hands.

Which was in French.

“I’ll order for you, chérie.” I set down my menu and took hers, and the second they were at the edge of the table, the waiter rushed over. In French, I ordered what we wanted, and a baguette with butter was placed in front of us.

She looked around for a bit again, looking at the couples at the nearby tables, watching the waiters walk by, and then glancing out the window.

I drank my wine as I watched her, more fascinated by her than anything in this room.

When she was finished absorbing the scene, her eyes shifted to me.

Beautiful. Smoky. Rich blue.

She was still, her hands hidden below the table somewhere in her lap, and she didn’t reach for the bread. “I’m sorry. I just haven’t been out in…a really long time.” Every time she shifted her head slightly, the lights shimmered in her diamonds. Her long, elegant neck was proud on her shoulders, her high cheekbones sharp like the perfect cut of a diamond. She was the most beautiful woman in this room. The entire world, in my opinion.

I drank my wine again, entertained by her beauty just the way I was entertained by a painting for hours. It was easy to fall into those eyes, to forget about work, forget about the past, to forget about everything.

Our food was delivered with lightning speed because everything in the kitchen had been put on hold until my dinner was finished. The steak and potatoes were placed in front of me as well as Melanie. Silently, the staff dismissed themselves.

“That was…fast.”

I placed the linen across my lap and grabbed my silverware. “Because everyone knows I don’t wait.”

I drove us back to the estate, and we entered my bedroom.

Dinner had been for her, not me. But I enjoyed it because she was easy to be around. She didn’t talk too much like most women. She didn’t ask a lot of questions. She didn’t meet my gaze fearlessly, always slightly intimidated by it. There were times when she looked at my arms, glanced at my chest, held my gaze with a slight burn in her eyes like she wanted me, and if we were alone, she’d be on her back with me inside her.

I stripped off my jacket and tossed it on the floor. The rest of my clothes followed.

She grabbed her zipper at the back of her dress and started to pull it down.

“Leave it on.”

She flinched at my command and released the zipper.

I came up behind her and pushed her to the bed, grabbing her by the hips and lifting her up so her knees hit the sheets. When she pushed herself up onto her hands, I grabbed her neck and gently pressed her back down again. Her dress was pushed up over her waist, I yanked down her thong, and then I shoved myself inside her, keeping my hand against the back of her neck.

I moaned when I felt how wet she was, when I saw the damp stain on the material of her thong. She had been the most beautiful woman in that restaurant tonight. Every man knew it, even if he would never admit it to his woman, and every woman knew it, even if their man told them otherwise.