TEN

Ronan

I drift out of sleep with such a delicate sweet scent in my nostrils I think I'm still dreaming. It's light and feminine, but has a musky rich depth that has my usual morning wood throbbing. Like lavender and honey...

Without opening my eyes, I reach down to stroke it over my pants.

Then I remember where I am!

My eyes shoot open. I'm nose to panty-covered pussy, with my head in my junior assistant's lap.

Fuck!

I roll away with a grunt, grateful the covers do at least a little to hide my raging erection. "What are you doing? I thought we agreed I would have the bed?" Internally, I berate myself for the way that comes out. I don't need to bite her head off for my mistake. I was the one with my head in her lap, not the other way around.

Justine scrambles backward toward the edge of the bed. "Oh, Mr. Kernos—Ronan, I... I'm sorry. I thought—" She tries to stand, but stumbles, sucking in a breath and rubbing at her legs. "Ouch! Pins and needles."

How long was I lying with my heavy head in her tiny lap? What a mess. I knew this single bed thing was a bad idea.

To be honest, I don't know what I was thinking telling her to stand in as my fake wife. It was a stupid, desperate move I can't justify. I was only thinking about my calendar and how long it was going to take me to catch up on everything we put off as it was.

I can't believe I didn't predict how strongly I'd react to her.

I sit and tug the blanket to make sure it covers my lap. "Listen, I'm sorry for growling at you, but we need to maintain a line here. I realize it's an unusual situation, but I need to know you'll respect any boundaries I set."

"Oh, yes! Of course."

She slides further off the bed, clutching at the side to keep herself up. This pulls the blanket, and I have to grab it to keep from being exposed. I can't believe the bloody thing hasn't subsided yet, but her too-tempting scent is still imprinted in my nostrils.

"Good." I roll away, reaching for a phone that isn't on the nightstand.

Justine clears her throat. "Only—"

I turn back to look at her. She's fidgeting from foot to foot. At first, I think it's the pins and needles, then I realize she wants to tell me something. I sigh. "What is it?"

"Well, about the nightmare..."

I search her face for clues, but there's nothing. Did she have a bad dream last night? I don't remember her saying anything about it. "Nightmare?"

Her cheeks turn an even darker shade. "You know? Your dream? The ambulance? Anyway, I wouldn't have gotten onto the bed, only I wanted to make sure you were OK." She chews at her bottom lip in a highly distracting way.

"You wanted to make sure I was OK?" I can't even concentrate on what she's saying. Why is everything she does so damn enticing? I should have jerked myself off more before coming on this damn show. I should have known there would be no chance to take care of that sort of thing. Only, I don't think I've even thought about it much over the last few months. It didn't feel important.

Feels fucking important now. My cock throbs against my thigh, twitching at her every move.

That's all this is.

"Yeah. You seemed... upset?"

Then I realize what she's talking about. A niggling worry occurs to me, along with a flash of a vague memory. I push it down. She probably was dreaming herself. "Listen, I'm not sure what you thought you heard, but I'm fine. Now if you—"

"You were shouting!" She cuts me off, and I'm so surprised my jaw drops. "You were shouting!"

"Not possible. I don't talk in my sleep."

"Oh." Justine looks down at her feet.

I start to feel just a little bit bad. I'm not prepared to admit, though, that she's seen me like that.

"Well, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to cross a line."

I sigh. "Not to worry. I'm sure it won't happen again. What time are we supposed to start filming?"

Just as I say this, there's a knock at the door. "Filming in five. Are you ready?"

Justine starts. "Oh! I'm just going to..." She points at the bathroom.

"Go ahead." That will hopefully give me a chance to get myself together.

Justine hurries into the bathroom and shuts the door.

I spend the next three minutes thinking about ice baths, and kittens and rainbows, and anything that will soften my cock.

I'm still sporting a semi when the bathroom door opens again. I look away in disgust. What the hell is wrong with me today?

"Ready?"

I clear my throat, throw the blanket off, and stride to the bathroom before she can look. "Yes. Tell them I'll be there in a moment."

I shut the door and stare at myself in the mirror.

What am I doing?

The reaction I'm having is worse than anything I've ever experienced before. It's almost as if—

I cut that bloody idea off before I can even have it, splash cold water over my face, and tell myself to get a grip. The last thing I need is a mate bond I can't fulfill.

Not happening. I'll never mate. I'm not risking a child who loses their father the way I lost mine.

By the time I've managed to use the bathroom and make myself presentable, everyone is waiting for me in the lobby. I remind myself I opened the conversation with Justine about boundaries this morning. I'll lay out the rules for her the next time we're alone.

Except we're never really alone, are we?

God, I'm a prime idiot. I forgot all about the cameras spread out all over the room. The cameras that captured my conversation with Justine about how we needed boundaries in the first place. A conversation we wouldn't need to be having if we had genuinely just met. I rub the base of my horns distractedly. This is a fucking mess.

The producer walks over to me with a bright smile I can't return. "Good morning, Mr. Kernos. We're all set to start out on today's first activity, if you're ready to join us."

"Ah, yes. Listen, before we get started, there's something I wanted to have a word with you about."

"Certainly."

"The crew knows not to use any footage that reveals the prior relationship between Justine and me, don't they?"

Amy nods. "Yes, sir. Of course." She pauses and looks behind us to where Justine is talking with one of the makeup assistants. "Have you considered what you'll do after filming has finished?"

I blink. I hadn't actually. But now she mentions it, I'll have to do something. It's an awkward situation. But untenable for Justine to stay on as my assistant after this.

I find that's a shame, because I could see she'd been working hard to impress me. I'll be able to give her a good reference at least. Perhaps I can call in a favor...

I don't have any more time to properly consider the problem, though, because it's time to begin the day's schedule.

We start with a ridiculously lengthy breakfast, complete with awkward conversation prompts. I learn Justine tried ice skating as a kid and I'm not at all surprised to find that she was terrible at it. The thought of her sliding around on ice is highly amusing. Somehow that thought turns into catching her when she inevitably falls over her feet, and that is less amusing than it is endearing.

God, could I get any more pathetic? I need to get hold of myself.

After breakfast, Amy leads us to where a pair of golf carts are waiting outside the hotel. Today's activity is another ridiculous date where we get to know each other better.

If it goes anything like yesterday, then I've got a couple of hours of hell to look forward to. Hours where I grouch at her and put my hoof in my mouth because, apparently, it's becoming hard for me to think straight around her.

I really need to find a moment to jerk off.

"Oh, I just can't get the hang of this!"

At Justine's exclamation, I tear my eyes away from the distant patch of shade on the next hole just in time to see the club come swinging toward me.

I duck and it narrowly misses my horn.

Justine turns a deeper shade of red and covers her mouth with her hands. She looks utterly adorable in the white visor and tight white cropped pants they dressed her in for this date and I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off the way the trousers hug her generous ass.

I'm also sweating like crazy in the heat, but no one else seems bothered.

"Sorry! Oh, I'm sorry."

I shake my head, collect her golf club, and walk over to her. "Let me show you."

I step closer, waiting for her to stop twisting her hands together. Then I hand her the club.

"Try again. Let me see what you're doing."

She takes it and turns, facing the ball and holding it out awkwardly in front of her.

"No, no. Like this." Without thinking, I step closer and reach around on either side of her. Taking hold of her hands, I guide them into the proper position on the club.

"Oh!"

Of course, this puts her ass right up against my thighs, which is all it takes for my cock to sit up and take notice. It strains against my tight trousers toward the swell of her cheeks and I silently curse.

Trying to keep as much distance between us as possible, I gently pull her arms back so the club swings to the side in a smooth arc. Then very slowly, I help her swing it back down toward the ball. "See?"

"Yeah." She nods.

I try not to notice the way her pale smooth skin disappears beneath the collar of her shirt. Or the way a shiver seems to run through her when I exhale and my breath tickles her neck. I stifle a groan. "Now move your hips and feet as well. Try to think about your hips following the same path as the end of the club."

We lift the club and swing it again. This time, Justine sways her hips in time with our movements and I just about lose it.

Coughing, I back away, keeping my back to the camera guy on the hill behind us.

I glance back and he gives me a thumbs up, probably delighted at the ridiculous spectacle I've just made. That's nothing to the spectacle of my stiff erection inside my too tight golfing pants.

Justine takes in a deep breath. She slowly lifts the club then swings again. This time she connects with the ball. It goes sailing off, more or less in the right direction and she turns to me with an enormous smile stretched across her pretty face.

"I did it!"

Despite what I'm feeling, I can't help smiling back. "Well done."

She flushes. "Thanks to you."

I wave off her thanks. "Come on. Let"s get over to the last hole where we can get some shade. I need a drink."

She grins. "Me, too. I can't believe how hot it is, right?"

She's not wrong. Though I suspect some of the heat I'm feeling has more to do with the fine line I'm walking between doing what the board want and being really, really inappropriate.

At least, I hope it does. Otherwise that's a very bad sign.

I need to set more boundaries. I do not need a mate bond forming—with her or anyone. I can't afford that.

What are the chances, though? One in a hundred minotaur bulls finds his fated mate. Not even that these days.

It's just hot and I'm tired, and I really, really need to find a moment alone.