Page 60 of Reluctantly Yours

“Sure.” He shrugs like he’s letting me dance with my girlfriend. “See you around,” he whispers to Chloe and I fight the urge to put him in a choke hold. I’ve never put anyone in a choke hold, but I imagine it wouldn’t be that difficult in my current state. Adrenaline pumping, blood boiling, fingers itching to squeeze into the flesh of his neck.

The music changes, the upbeat song giving way to a slow ballad. Chloe’s staring at me wide-eyed. We look awkward standing here among the dancing couples, so I move closer, placing a hand on her hip and pulling her into me. It’s a reach, but she places her hand on my shoulder. My other hand closes over hers.

“I saw you talking to Fred,” she says.

I think she’s trying to make conversation. She doesn’t realize that exact sentence is like poking a hungry bear you just stole a fish from.

“I was talking to Fred until I had to come over here and pry you out of Ryan Shaw’s clutches.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” She laughs, which only serves to piss me off more. “I wanted to dance and he asked.”

“The fact that I had to leave my conversation with Fred to come over here is the issue.” I try to keep my voice calm but it’s rising with every protest out of Chloe’s pretty little mouth.

My hand on her hip tightens reflexively and my blood boils over just thinking Ryan’s hand was here moments ago. “We’re leaving.”

I drop my hand from her hip and use our joined hands to pull her through the crowd.

We pass by the dessert table, Chloe nearly making a play for a tiramisu bite before I redirect us past the assortment of sweets and out the ballroom doors.

* * *

Chloe’s silently fuming next to me in the car and the moment Marcus pulls to a stop in front of my house, she flings the door open and hops out.

If she wasn’t angry with me before, announcing we were leaving before dessert was served did the trick. I say goodnight to Marcus, then climb the stairs and let myself in. Yes, Chloe locked the door even though she knew I was only moments behind her.

I find her in my study. It’s an easy guess, I could hear the wheels of the ladder moving on their railings. I’ll need to let Rose know it needs to be oiled.

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep my temper even, but seeing Chloe leaning precariously off the top of the ladder makes every muscle in my body tighten. She’s had several glasses of champagne and she’s in an evening gown for fuck’s sake. At least she had the wherewithal to take off her heels.

“Selecting a new book. Do you haveManners for Dummies?” She turns to dangle one leg off the step.

That move right there sends my heart rate through the roof.

“Chloe, put both feet on the ladder and come down. Now.” There’s a pleading edge to my tone which only pisses me off more. I hate the weakness I feel in situations like this.

“Make me.”

My hands grip the ladder, but I know I won’t climb it. It’s a ten-foot ladder, not the Empire State Building, yet the fear feels the same.

This time when Chloe leans off the ladder, she removes her foot and a hand. The weight shift sends the ladder sliding to the right and catches Chloe off balance.

My heart stops when I see her nearly topple off the side.

“Chloe!”

She hugs the side railing with her arm and manages to grip back onto the step with her toes.

“Jesus Christ.” I wipe at my brow, the tension in my body now dripping out of every pore.

“I’m fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Fucking hell. I’m going to kill her.

From the top of the ladder, Chloe studies me a moment, her eyes narrowing in on my clenched fists. She must see it written all over my face, the fear, because she slowly makes her way down to the bottom. I move back so she can place her feet on the floor. When she’s back on solid ground I grip the ladder railing above her head and push it, sending it screaming down the track until it hits the end with a thud.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Chloe’s eyes widen in the direction I sent the ladder.

“It was safer on the ladder,” I say, taking a step closer toward her. I fist my hands in my pockets, hoping that will keep me from touching her. From strangling her for scaring the shit out of me on the ladder, and for making me miss out on an opportunity to talk to Fred tonight.