The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride by L. Steele
16
Weston
"Did you hear that?" I stiffen.
She freezes and her gaze widens. "Was that—?"
"Max." I’m already moving. I grab her by the waist, lift her and set her aside.
She squeaks. I jump to my feet, race toward the back door. I grab the handle and the door swings open. "I swear I shut it."
Footsteps sound behind me. I turn. "Stay inside," I stab my finger at her.
"Like hell, I am." She pauses, chest heaving. Her beautiful tits rise and fall. I glance at them and my belly hardens. Shit, not the time to get distracted.
"Get back in," I growl.
"No way." She folds her arms over her chest.
More barking, this time farther away. "Fuck." I pivot, race down the steps. She follows. "Stay behind me," I growl at her over my shoulder.
Amelie juts out her chin, then nods. Thank Fuck. If she’d tried to disobey me, I’d have bodily hauled her inside and tied her up. I shake my head, dislodging the image. Hell, if she doesn’t bring out the caveman in me. I turn, then bolt across the back garden. The light from the patio streams out. I race toward the shed, the direction from which I’d heard the barking. It’s silent now. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My heart begins to race and my pulse rate ratchets up. I slow down as I near the shed. I hear movement behind me, then she pulls abreast. "Is there someone in the shed?" she whispers.
I train my gaze on the darkened shed. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. The knot in my stomach grows. I reach the side of the shed, press myself against the wall. Amelie follows my lead. I turn, place a finger to my lips. She swallows. I hold up my hand. Don’t move, I mouth the words.
She bites the inside of her cheek, then nods. I point to myself then at the door of the shed; she jerks her chin. I turn back toward the door. Shit, wish I had some kind of weapon. I bite back a laugh as I think of her spatula. I bunch my left fist at my side. Of course, the finger on my right hand is hurt, so I won’t be much use if there is, indeed, someone inside. A whine sounds from inside the shed so I move toward it. Wait, wait. There’s no other sound inside. If there’s someone in there… Well, I’ll have to deal with it. I slip in through the crack between the door and the frame. There’s a shuffling sound, then a low bark. "Max." I feel my way across the wall, hit the switch. The lights blaze in the space. I glance around, draw in a breath.
"Oh, my God," Amelie breathes next to me.
"I told you to stay outside," I remind her.
She ignores me, takes a step forward. "Wes… Your… your clocks."
My stomach knots and a hardness winds itself around my chest. "Fuck, bloody, fuck." Almost every clock in the place has been smashed. I move forward and my loafers crunch on the glass. Shit, should have changed into my boots before I rushed out, but fuck that. I stalk forward to my table. A shuffling sounds from underneath it. I pull back the chair and a growl rips out of me.
"What happened? Where’s Max?" Amelia rushes forward. I plant my body in between her and the dog, but she’s already there. "Oh, no," she cries out, "Max."
I sink down to my haunches, reach for Max. He whines, shrinks away. Fuck. "Something—more likely, someone—scared him."
The poor pup is shaking. My gut tightens and my pulse pounds behind my eyes. "I am not going to let him get away with this," I swear.
"Who? Who could do this?" Amelie’s voice is low.
"I don’t know, but you can bet your ass, I am going to find out." I lean forward, lay my hand on the side of Max’s head, "Shh, it’s okay, little guy. I’m here now. We’ll take care of you, hmm?"
Max whines, folds further into himself .
"Fuck," I swear aloud and he flinches.
"You’re frightening him."
"Don’t be silly," I growl.
Amelie squats down next to me, loses her balance and grabs at my thigh to right herself. Pinpricks of heat vibrate out from her touch. I glance at her hand, which seems too delicate, too fragile against the broadness of my leg. She leans forward, on her knees, holds out her hand. "You okay, baby?" she croons.
Max blinks up at her, then whines. Is he playing it up for her? No, he’s hurt, but why the hell did he back away from me? And why is he shuffling forward toward her? She caresses the side of his face, rubs her palm over his flank. He whimpers, then crawls toward her. She lifts him up, carefully, and cradles him. "You poor thing, are you hurt? Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you now." She turns to me, "We need to take him to the vet."
I place my hand in front of the mutt’s mouth. He blinks, then licks my fingers. "Let’s go." I rise to my feet. She follows, cuddling the dog close to her chest. His little body trembles. Why the hell didn’t he want to come to me? I frown, looking from the dog to the tiny woman who rocks him, making soothing noises in her throat. A strange feeling coils in my chest. Jealousy? A little… That the dog preferred her over me… Not that I blame him. Given a choice I’d have laid my head on her breast…and done more than just cuddle, of course. Enough, motherfucker. Best get them both out of the shed, at least. I step over the glass. "Watch out," I caution her. She glances down at the glass, places a foot between the shards. "You’re in your socks?" I swear.
"Yeah… I didn’t have time to get my shoes."
More glass shards crunch under her feet. I growl, "Fuck that." I turn and sweep up both woman and dog into my arms. She squeaks, "Put…me down." Max continues to shake.
"Not a chance"
"But you’re hurt."
"And you’ll be hurting on parts other than the soles of your feet if you don’t shut up."
"Oh," she draws in a breath. "I can walk," she mumbles.
"You’re not wearing shoes." I stalk forward. "How could you be stupid enough to come out without your shoes?"
"Excuse me for caring enough about little Max," she huffs.
"You should have stayed inside, like I told you to."
"Why the hell are you angry now?" She frowns.
"You don’t want to know." I stalk toward the cabin. "It’s enough that I have to take care of the mutt, add you to the mix and—"
"You don’t have to take care of me."
"Right," I mutter. "Tell that to the thief who decided to break in."
"Not my fault that the lock to the cabin was weak."
"There’s a security system for both the cabin and the shed… And one that runs around the perimeter of the property that—"
"The cabin," we both say in unison.
I jerk my gaze down to hers.
Her face whitens. "You don’t think he went to the—"
"Only one way to find out."
I tighten my arms around her, "You should stay here while I go check out the cabin."
The lights flicker then go out.
"Oh, no," Amelie squeaks. "Do you think the intruder had anything to do with this?"
I frown, not wanting to answer her.
She draws in a sharp breath, coils in closer to my chest. Hmm... this is not too bad, huh?
"Are we safe here?" She gulps, "Maybe you should call your driver and we should leave here?"
What, and miss this opportunity to find out how much more she can take before I break her? No fucking way.
"Relax." I infuse a tone of reassurance into my voice. "It's probably the incoming storm."
"You... you sure?" She peers up at me.
"Positive." I glance down at her upturned face. The starlight brings out the silver in her blue eyes, turns the blonde hair about her shoulders to spun gold. Spun gold? What the fuck? Clearly, I've been reading too many fairytales to my younger niece. Jesus, do I still have my balls or what?
"Oh, look." She raises her chin.
I glance up as the first flakes of snow hit my nose. "That’s all we need," I grumble. "Fucking snow."
"It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" Her voice is dreamy.
I glance down to find her sticking out her tongue to catch a flake.
"It’s polluted water," I warn her.
She scowls, "No one can accuse you of being a romantic."
"No one can accuse you of being practical."
"If I were, I never would have left home at eighteen to go to culinary school, against my parents’ wishes."
"Where did you study?"
"At Le Cordon Bleu, Paris."
"Funny, I can’t see you at a snooty French course like that."
She frowns up at me. "You’re right," she replies, "I hated it. The course taught me a lot, gave me the basics, but... I couldn’t wait to get out of there and into the real world."
"You don’t like rules, huh?"
"I like to be free."
"Do you?" I allow my lips to twist.
"Of course." She scowls, "Why do you ask?"
"I think you’d like to be tied down. In fact, I am positive you'd love to test your limits; to find out how much you could take before you break down and beg for your release."
She gulps; her pupils dilate.
"You… You’re wrong." She whispers.
"Are you sure?"