Page 79 of The Christmas Wife

"And I am not letting up."

She lowers her chin, "And when you’re done, you’ll take a look at the generator?"

"You bet."

"Fine," she tosses her head, "have at it?—"

I step back, walk around her to drop into my seat, and resume eating.

"What are you doing?"

I crunch down more cereal.

"I’m talking to you," she scowls.

"I’m not."

She stares at me as I shovel more of the disgusting stuff into my mouth. Cold breakfasts have never been my thing. And since when have I wanted to taste chocolate-laced savories in the morning, huh? Come to think of it, when had I begun to stop hating chocolate? Bloody hell, this woman is changing me and she isn't even trying.

I push back, stand, "I’ll check out the generator now."

I turn to leave and there’s a sound behind me. I hold up my hand. "What do you think you’re doing?" I ask without turning around.

"Uh, I’m going to finish my cereal?”

"No."

"What?"

I pivot to glare at her over my shoulder, "You stay right there, Princess."

"Bu…but," she blinks rapidly, "you’re leaving."

"And I haven’t given you permission to move."

She gapes, "So you want me to stay right here, on the table, on all fours?"

"You can get naked if you want," I chuckle, "or not. Up to you."

"You’re a prick," she mumbles, "a sadistic, jerk-face, wanker."

"And you’re going to obey me," I inform her.

She glowers at me, "I hate you."

"And I love that wrinkle you get between your eyebrows when you’re angry." I blink.Did I just say that? I didn’t say that. And the worst thing? It’s the truth.I frown at her.

She stares back.

"Stay." I stab a finger in her direction, because well, I need to reinforce my rich prick status. Then turn and leave.

I make a detour to collect my phone from the bedroom, then step out, past the silent hot tub. At some point in the night the snow had turned to rain. Now as I stalk across the lawns they glisten from the overnight storms.

When I reach the shed at the back, I hesitate, draw in a breath, and walk in. The glass from the broken clocks glitters on the floor. I stare at it, my life’s work—a fortune in antique clocks that I’d bought and fixed myself. I walk to the nearest one, pick it up. Its face is cracked, but the mechanism works. I could piece it together once more. I glance around the space… Hell, I am going to reassemble every single one of these pieces. That’s not the problem, though. I stalk forward, toward the table at the far end. Fact is, someone was here… They intruded on my privacy… Which I don’t give a fuck about… But her… She was here. So was Max. They’d frightened the dog and it could have easily been her. They could have hurt her… My belly knots. Fuck, if I am going to let that happen again. And it’s only because I am responsible for her, until Christmas… Perhaps until the New Year, if I have my way. I cannot put her at risk again. Whoever targeted me, won’t hesitate to come for her either.

I have to find a way to protect her…for as long as she is here… And later? I cannot allow them to get to her.

I pull out my phone. My first call is to the company that manages the services to the cabin and the shed.

---