Page 11 of Chloe's Christmas Escape
“Yes. I just don’t understand how you’re already upset with me. We’ve been married less than an hour.”
“And we will talk about that in a moment.” Gripping her skirt with one hand, she used the other to support herself on the banister as she made her way up the stairs.
Jackson grinned. Whatever had gotten her riled up sure had made her prettier. His eyes roved over her. She was not as frail as he’d seen other women. In addition, his wife was not portly. Perhaps Chloe Kingston was just right. Which would explain why no other woman had quite fit beside him in his mind or responded to his ad.
And she’d been right under Mac’s nose all this time.
When he reached the landing, she was already halfway down the hall to her room, and he hurried to catch up.
“Are you truly angry with me?” He caught hold of her elbow just outside of her room.
“If I were truly angry, I wouldn’t be walking away from you. There would probably be foot stomping as well.” She tugged her elbow out of his grip and opened her bedroom door. Hesitating, Chloe turned her back from the room and faced him, their eyes locking like magnets snapping together.
“We are only talking,” she said firmly, poking her finger into his chest. Jackson nodded. Surely, she didn’t think he was going to pressure her for more right this minute. “I have your word?”
“Chloe Masters, you have my word that we will do nothing more than speak until you are ready. I may even wait until you demand it.”
Laughter rang out down the hallway as they rushed into her bedroom. The door shut and clicked as she secured it with a key twist.
“Pick your seat,” she directed, not looking at him.
He watched mesmerized as slender fingers worked meticulously to pull out pins from her hair. She delicately rolled the strands up off her neck and secured them with precision into a neat bun at the back of her head.
What would it feel like to push the pins aside and run his fingers through it?
He shook his head and moved to the chair at the table, feeling relieved that he’d chosen the safest seat in the room.
The sound of leather smacking against wood made him turn just in time to see her tuck her legs under her skirt and settle on the bed. Her boots lay discarded on the floor, half beneath the bed.
Cute as a button, that’s what she was.
“Now tell me, what it is you really want in a wife? Not what you thought would draw you the most responses.” Her eyes flashed, and Jackson let out a sigh.
He turned the chair to face her and took his time settling into it. This might be worse than a firing squad.
Chapter Five
Chloe wasn’t sure why his advertisement upset her enough to cause a scene. Her eyes were burning with indignation as she stared at the newspaper ad. It had seemed so casual and impersonal, as if he were advertising for a new possession rather than a bride. Her knuckles whitened as she balled her hands into fists at the thought of who might have answered that advertisement.
She wasn’t truly angry at him; she had no right to be. They were still strangers; married yes, but strangers. Pondering the facts didn’t squash her anger. It was almost as if he hadn’t thought or prayed too hard about what having a wife would look like. Just that he wanted one.
Who did a thing like that?
Apparently, he did.
Did he even care that she could be in danger? Or was he just happy to have his search for a wife ended? What if no one else had responded to the advertisement because there was something wrong with him?The thought of it caused her heart to clench painfully.
Chloe took a deep breath as she tried to halt the oppressive spiral of speculation. She had no right to pass judgement on things she did not know of, but now she would need to search actively for the truth. Pausing, she took several deep breaths to bring her racing thoughts to a halt. Perhaps this was the Lord’s work, interceding on their behalf? But she could have done without the fear and bloodshed in the meantime.
The sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floor pulled Chloe’s attention back to the moment. Jackson was up and moving around as if he owned the room. What had she missed while lost so deeply in her thoughts?
She quietly observed him. He seemed very tall, but she was barely five feet so that was not uncommon. His hands were steady and sure in his movements, but there was a tightness around his eyes and mouth.
“Are you all right?”
Jackson paused his movements, glanced at her, and nodded, before throwing two more logs on the fire.
“What are you doing?” She raised her arms slowly, gripping the blanket as if it were a precious item—the only thing keeping her from moving toward the edge of the bed. Her nails dug into the fabric, and she stayed perfectly still.
