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“I’d prefer not to know that.”

Another laugh, but she began to come down the ladder. Only once she was within a few steps of the ground did he let go. But he stayed more or less where he was, so her body was close to his. So close he could see a hint of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

“Did you need something? Or did you come to point out my perilous working conditions?”

He’d momentarily forgotten the purpose of breaking their rule and coming in search of her. “Have you been doing this the whole time?”

She wrinkled her nose. “How else did you think the garlands all got strung along the ceiling joints?”

“Christos, you are a menace,” he groaned.

“You’re overreacting,” she assured him. “But I think it’s kind of sweet.”

“I don’t think that’s something I’ve ever been called before.”

“I won’t tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with me.” She pressed a hand to his chest and a burst of need flamed through him. “Now, if you don’t like seeing me up ladders, you should leave. I’ve got to hook the other end of this up.”

“I’ll stay,” he said.

“You really don’t need to.”

“I’ll stay,” he repeated, more emphatically.

She lifted her shoulders. “Suit yourself.” She pushed at his chest gently but he didn’t move. He couldn’t. Something was firing in his chest, making it hard to breathe. His nostrils flared and he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. He felt an irrational irritation, an anger that he knew he had no right to feel.

“Why do you act as though your life doesn’t matter?”

Her eyes went round as saucers in her beautiful face. “I beg your pardon?”

“Do you let your staff climb ladders when they are alone in a room?”

Pink flushed her cheeks. “Generally, no,” she conceded. “There are workplace guidelines around it, but⁠—”

He pressed a finger to her sweet, soft lips. “There’s a reason for those guidelines.”

“Oh, come on,” she said on a husky laugh. “Like you’ve never climbed a ladder or scaled a wall or done anything that wasn’t completely safe?”

He ground his jaw. That wasn’t the point.

“You will not take risks like this in my house. Is that clear?”

Up close, he could see the way a delicate pulse point was hammering at the base of her jaw.

“I think you’re overreacting.”

“You bury two of the people you’re closest to and then tell me if that’s the case.”

Sympathy softened her eyes, but he didn’t want sympathy. Heat sparked between them, anger flaring, and he liked that. It felt better than sympathy and conversation, closeness and opening his soul for her to see inside.

“Say you’ll obey me.”

“Obey you?” she repeated with incredulity. Sympathy gone, anger restored. Excitement thrummed in his veins.

“For as long as you’re in my house,” he agreed, moving forward and trapping her between the ladder and the thickness of his legs, one on either side of her.

“I don’t obey anyone,” she rejected, tilting her chin to his defiantly.

Perfect, he thought. All the better to kiss you with. And he dropped his head before she could guess his intention, kissing her hard, fast, his mouth moving with a mix of passion and anger, and something else. Something he couldn’t identify, only he knew it was just as desperate and urgent as all the other emotions stirring through him.