Page 158 of The Christmas Wife

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, "Of course, the Big Bad Alpha Claus isn't going to allow this helpless woman to get away with anything."

"Helpless, my ass!" he scoffs. "You're dangerous, is what you are."

"Why, you flatter me." I flutter my eyelashes.

"And you..." He peers into my face, his features intense, "You..." He swallows, "I love you."

"Oh." A fierce something flares in my chest. Heat sears my cheeks.Holy shit, am I blushing? No, I am not. Of course, not.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he growls.

"Am I?" I tilt my head, "Max is not here, so we don't have to take him for a walk. I showered last night, so I guess I can skip today, and it's Christmas today. Of course, Merry Christmas, Mr. Alpha Claus."

"Merry-fucking-Christmas," he rumbles, "but that's not what I mean."

"No?" I chew the inside of my cheek; my heart flutters in my chest like I'm just about to eat a freshly-baked chocolate croissant. Yum. Only one thing gives me more pleasure. "Umm." I screw up my face, "Let me think... Let me think... Am I forgetting something?" I raise my shoulders, "Nope."

He runs his fingers up my side, "Is that right?"

I giggle. "That's right."

He digs his fingers into my ribcage, and I snort. "Please... Don't—" I gasp.

"My, my, how ticklish you are, little Red."

"All the better to laugh with you, Mr. Claus." I chuckle, then scream, as he tickles my armpits. The laugher wells up my throat. I wriggle around, try to avoid him, but he leans his weight on me.

I howl.

He laughs louder. He holds me captive under him, proceeds to tickle me until I lose my breath. "Stop... No more..." I pant, "Please."

He pauses and his chest heaves. He glares at me, takes in my features. "You're the most beautiful present I have ever received for Christmas," he whispers.

My heart literally melts in my chest. Okay, not literally, but I mean, come on... That was bloody unexpected. I cup his cheek, urge his face closer, "I am still waiting for my gift."

"Oh?"

I nod, "Tell me what happened when you were kidnapped."

He blinks, then his features shutter.

Hell, me and my big mouth. Why did I have to go spoil that perfect moment? He pulls back, shoves off the bed and glances around the room.

I sit up, "Weston, I'm sorry."

He spots his pants and steps into them. Shit, he’s leaving... After all that? He loves me. He'd made love to me. Hell, he'd taken my ass... And damn him... It had taken courage to allow him to do that... I'd enjoyed it...but honestly, it had been a leap of faith to trust him with that... And now...what? He decides to up and leave? And why the hell am I apologizing?

He heads for the door. I jump up on my knees; the bloody sheet is wound around me... How the hell did that happen? "Weston stop right there."

He reaches the exit.

"Stop," I yell. "You can't just leave."

He pauses, then turns to glare at me with that look of superior disdain that I hate.

"Don't tell me what to do," he growls.

Argh!I throw up my hands, "You and your stupid dick-headed ideas."

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