The man swiveled his head, the movement as slow and deliberate as a puppet, as he said to the silver-haired servant beside him who was still holding that small box, “Is that what it looked like to you?”
Ronin laughed incredulously, pulling Mireille out from behind him. “Take a good, hard look at thisstunningfemale and then tell me you would have been able to wait to get her upstairs before pouncing on her.”
His praise set her entire lower body on fire again, and if she were less wise, she might have even thrown caution to the wind, dragged him back to their suite, andlethim pounce on her.
Ronin pulled her out of the parlor, and she could feel the men’s eyes boring into the back of her head.
She winked at them over her shoulder, then blew a kiss as she and Ronin turned down the marble-floored hallway.
Once they’d reached the guest wing, Ronin leaned against the wall and dipped his head.
“I…” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “It was the only thing I could think to do in the moment.”
Mireille crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing the spots on her neck and breasts where he’d nipped her. Trying not to think about how much she wanted him to do it again.
“It was good, quick thinking,” she offered.
He stared down at her, a question in his eyes that she didn’t yet know how to answer, then shook his head as he opened the door to their suite.
Mireille was exhausted. It had been a very long, very strange few days. And that kiss had just short-circuited her brain.
Ronin blew out an extended breath as she swept past him into the room. He struggled to find his words, and Mireille was simultaneously relieved and terrified that he seemed to be just as affected by their kiss as she was. “Mireille, I…”
She turned back to him, kept her expression as professional as possible, and whatever he saw there stilled his tongue.
There were no more words exchanged between them as they changed into their nightclothes, then climbed into bed together, each keeping to their own side.
And though she desperately needed it, sleep took its sweet time claiming her that night.
It was chased away by swirling speculations on what, exactly, Ronin had been about to say.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mireille returned to their suite the next morning, cheeks reddened and blood flowing.
She’d woken before Ronin, had spent several indulgent minutes watching him sleep. His rhythmic breaths stirring his snowy hair. The soft curve of his plush lips. His tattooed hand rising and falling where it lay across his bare chest.
She had immediately decided that a run through the frozen estate was the best option to keep her from doing somethingverystupid.
Like pulling down those blankets, kneeling between his legs, and waking him up with her mouth.
The short jog had only partly helped. She’d wanted to let her wolf out—she was feeling a bit feral after three days without shifting; High Gods, was this how poor Ronin felt all the time?—but didn’t think it wise to run around the grounds in that form. None of the other Beastrunner guests had done so this week.
Every puff of frosty air that left her mouth tasted like his tongue. But fortunately, by the end, the exercise had done what exercise normally did for her—cleared her mind, allowed her to focus on their assignment rather than on how much she wantedto tangle herself up with her partner again. Surely just a side effect of the lack of shifting.
She’d made a second pit stop on her journey as well—a trip to the greenhouse.
She had the bounty she’d acquired tucked into her jacket pocket as she strode through the door to find Ronin dressed for the day. He was seated in an armchair, their breakfast tray spread out onto the low table before him.
The silver serving platter was filled to capacity with a basket of steaming biscuits, two fluffy omelets, and crispy potatoes, plus a bowl of berries, a carafe of coffee and a pot of tea.
The delectable scents only served to make Mireille keenly aware of her hunger. She stripped off her jacket and plopped into the seat across from him.
“Good morning.” Her voice came out far more high-pitched and squeaky than she’d intended, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Good morning.”
Ronin smirked, as if he knew exactly why she was nervous. But he didn’t tease her as he filled a mug with coffee, then added two spoonfuls of sugar and a splash of cream before handing it to her.
She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “You remember how I take my coffee?”
