Page 29 of His Christmas Wife

He hoped to do that many more times in the future.

“They really are gorgeous.”

“I’m delighted you’re pleased.”

“Still—”

He held up a finger. “I enjoyed last night tremendously.”

“Look, Mr. Frost, you don’t owe me anything, gratitude”—she narrowed her eyes—“or an apology.”

“Stop.” He bit back his irritation. “Can’t I do something nice for you?”

“Not if you have ulterior motives, no.”

“Are you this suspicious with everyone? Or is it just me?”

She blinked several times and turned away. Hiding from him?

“I promise you; I did this out of the goodness of my heart.” His statement was a damn lie. Between the actions of his father and Greta, his former fiancée, there was no goodness remaining in his heart. Life had been a harsh instructor, so he did nothing without calculating the costs—emotional as well as financial—and all the potential outcomes. He had no intention of allowing her to back out of their agreement.

Finally, with a nod, she crossed into the kitchen, then crouched to grab a vase from underneath the sink. After filling the glass container with water, she spent time arranging the blossoms, then carried the whole thing into the living room and placed it on the coffee table.

“They’re cheery.” She seemed to consider the placement. “And brighten up the whole space, making it seem a little festive.”

Something lacking in both of their lives.

“Let me grab my coat and purse.”

While she walked down the hallway, he took the opportunity to learn more about her and wandered over to the wall unit. She had a few knickknacks there, but mostly it was crammed full of framed photographs. As if he had every right to intrude on her privacy, he picked one up that showed her with other people—three young kids, Kaylee, and a woman who looked uncannily like her, along with a couple who might have been her parents.

When she cleared her voice behind him, he turned, still holding the snapshot, unapologetic at being caught snooping. “Your family?”

“Yes.”

The flatness of her tone did not invite further questions, but that didn’t deter him. “You all look happy.”

“We were.” A smile ghosted across her features. “Or pretended to be.”

She’d revealed more than he anticipated, and he waited for her to go on.

“The man in the picture is my father. Or, if you prefer to get technical, my stepfather.” She shrugged. “Since he was more of a dad than my sperm donor ever was, I simply called him Dad.”

“Called?”

She moved in closer to him and pointed to the right side of the picture. “That’s my younger sister. On the other side of Mom and Dad are my half-siblings. There’s quite an age difference between me and Loree and the rest of the kids.”

“Loree? She’s the one who is getting married?”

“You remembered.”

He hated that she sounded shocked.

“At first Mom wasn’t sure that she wanted to have a second family, especially since we were almost grown. But she was so much in love with Dad that it was natural.” She shrugged. “We were all one, big happy family.”

“I envy you that.”

She blinked up at him. “Do you?”

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