Reluctantly Yours(48)

I should ask about Frankie, but I don’t want to talk about the ladies. I want to get to the fucking point about the acquisition deal I’m trying to put together.

“Oh, good. I didn’t realize I had that much power behind my back hand.”

“It’s okay. She’s recovered. What I wanted to talk—”

“Is that Chloe dancing?” Fred squints over my shoulder.

“I don’t—” I turn in the direction he’s looking and see that it is Chloe dancing with a guy. He spins her once and she laughs. I don’t want to care. I need to talk to Fred. This is the only chance I’ve had alone with him all week. But, when the man Chloe’s dancing with comes into view, my blood starts to boil.

There are many companies in the pursuit of Voltaire, but the only company, aside from SCM, that could come to the table with a lucrative deal would be Shaw & Graham.

“With Ryan Shaw?” Fred’s eyebrows would be lifted to his hairline if he had one.

I fucking hate the vulnerability of this moment. I shouldn’t have to worry about what Chloe’s doing while I’m talking to Fred. What the fuck is she thinking?

Frankie strides up to the table, placing her hands on Fred’s shoulders, her long turquoise nails digging into the fabric of his suit.

“Hi, Barrett, good to see you.” She glances around. “Where’s Chloe?”

Fred pats her hand. “It’s a sensitive subject. She’s dancing with Ryan Shaw.”

I stand, realizing there is nothing more I can accomplish with Fred tonight.

“It’s good to see you both. If you’ll excuse me.” I do my best not to act affected but if I were a cartoon character, I’d have steam coming out of my ears.

I don’t wait for their response; I move with purpose onto the dance floor and next to where Chloe and Ryan are still enjoying their dance together.

“Barrett.” Chloe starts when she sees me.

“St. Clair.” Ryan eyes me with a smug glance.

“I’d like to dance with my girlfriend.”

Ryan lets go of Chloe who stands there staring at me like I’m a monster with three heads, of which none of them think logically when she’s around.

“Sure.” He shrugs like he’s letting me dance with my girlfriend. “See you around,” he whispers to Chloe and I fight the urge to put him in a choke hold. I’ve never put anyone in a choke hold, but I imagine it wouldn’t be that difficult in my current state. Adrenaline pumping, blood boiling, fingers itching to squeeze into the flesh of his neck.

The music changes, the upbeat song giving way to a slow ballad. Chloe’s staring at me wide-eyed. We look awkward standing here among the dancing couples, so I move closer, placing a hand on her hip and pulling her into me. It’s a reach, but she places her hand on my shoulder. My other hand closes over hers.

“I saw you talking to Fred,” she says.

I think she’s trying to make conversation. She doesn’t realize that exact sentence is like poking a hungry bear you just stole a fish from.

“I was talking to Fred until I had to come over here and pry you out of Ryan Shaw’s clutches.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” She laughs, which only serves to piss me off more. “I wanted to dance and he asked.”

“The fact that I had to leave my conversation with Fred to come over here is the issue.” I try to keep my voice calm but it’s rising with every protest out of Chloe’s pretty little mouth.

My hand on her hip tightens reflexively and my blood boils over just thinking Ryan’s hand was here moments ago. “We’re leaving.”

I drop my hand from her hip and use our joined hands to pull her through the crowd.

We pass by the dessert table, Chloe nearly making a play for a tiramisu bite before I redirect us past the assortment of sweets and out the ballroom doors.





Chloe’s silently fuming next to me in the car and the moment Marcus pulls to a stop in front of my house, she flings the door open and hops out.

If she wasn’t angry with me before, announcing we were leaving before dessert was served did the trick. I say goodnight to Marcus, then climb the stairs and let myself in. Yes, Chloe locked the door even though she knew I was only moments behind her.

I find her in my study. It’s an easy guess, I could hear the wheels of the ladder moving on their railings. I’ll need to let Rose know it needs to be oiled.

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep my temper even, but seeing Chloe leaning precariously off the top of the ladder makes every muscle in my body tighten. She’s had several glasses of champagne and she’s in an evening gown for fuck’s sake. At least she had the wherewithal to take off her heels.

“Selecting a new book. Do you have Manners for Dummies?” She turns to dangle one leg off the step.

That move right there sends my heart rate through the roof.

“Chloe, put both feet on the ladder and come down. Now.” There’s a pleading edge to my tone which only pisses me off more. I hate the weakness I feel in situations like this.

“Make me.”

My hands grip the ladder, but I know I won’t climb it. It’s a ten-foot ladder, not the Empire State Building, yet the fear feels the same.