“And were any of them trapped in that mine?” Henry’s jaw is tense

as he paces around the plane, knuckles white from his grip on his

phone. “Let me help you with that answer, Mick. No, they

weren’t. They were in their beds with their high-priced escorts sucking their

dicks—”

I wince. Whichever corporate lawyer Mick is, he can’t be enjoying this

tongue-lashing.

“If I want suggestions from the board on how to manage my company,

I’ll ask!” He ends the call and tosses the phone onto an empty seat.

“Everything okay?” I dare ask.

“Yes,” he snaps, then sighs, as if catching his temper. He pushes his

hands through his thick mane of chestnut-brown hair, revealing the small

scrape he earned in the mine collapse. His only injury, thankfully. “Just

Scott still trying to fuck me from his grave.”

Mention of his conspiring, murderous brother has me reaching for my

forehead, where bruises still linger from my last run-in with him. Scott has

already almost succeeded in taking Henry from me once, thanks to that old

mine he’d been funneling company money into, unbeknownst to everyone.

Henry made a terrible mistake going into it. He could’ve died in there.

What else has Scott done?

Henry sees my reaction and the anger radiating from him dissolves

instantly. He settles into the cream leather seat across from me and pitches

forward, collecting my hand. “He can’t hurt either of us anymore.” He

kisses my knuckles, his beautiful blue eyes catching the engagement ring he

slipped on this morning. The gold band is thin, the pearl centerpiece

perfectly round with an iridescent luster, surrounded by a cluster of tiny

diamonds. It’s simple, and nothing like one might expect from the owner of

Wolf Enterprise. It was his grandmother’s ring.

Who knew the hard-nosed billionaire tycoon who once intimidated me

would be so sentimental?

I smile. I did. At least, I figured it out somewhere along the way to

falling madly in love with him.

And now Henry Wolf is all mine.

He leans into his seat and rests his head, showing off a protruding

Adam’s apple and that delicious cleft in his chin. Absent is the tailored suit

I’ve grown accustomed to seeing him in. Today, he chose dark blue jeans

and a soft charcoal gray cashmere shirt that hugs his powerful torso in all

the right places.

While I can’t decide which version of Henry I love more, this casual

one always gets my blood flowing, especially when his legs are splayed,

drawing my attention to a part of him that has brought me so much pleasure

over these past months.

“I was thinking about this meeting with Margo’s Nordstrom friend next

week.”

“Yeah?” My eyes divert from their intent focus.

Henry is smirking at me. His hand slides to rest on his thigh, his fingers

drumming inches away from the prize. “What are you thinking about,

Abbi?” His eyebrow arches. “Being full last night?”

My cheeks flush upon mention of our depraved evening. Never would I

have expected Henry to share me with another man—let alone Ronan. I can

still feel both of them deep inside me. “What about the meeting?” I ask,

steering the conversation away from one I’d never want anyone

overhearing.

His knowing gaze lingers on me for another few beats before relenting

in his teasing. He opens his mouth but then stalls. “Are you nervous about

meeting with this buyer?”

“Terrified,” I admit with a laugh. “Like, come on! I make homemade

soaps in my parents’ barn using herbs from their garden, wrap them in

plastic, and sell them at the Christmas bazaar and the farmers’ market. I

don’t know the first thing about this whole big business world. I’m going to

make a fool of myself. I don’t even understand what a buyer does.”

Margo wasn’t much help when I asked her. “She chooses all the

wonderful things they carry in store!” she exclaimed with glee. But when I

Asked how and why this Nordstrom buyer chooses what she does, Margo

winked and said, “As long as she picks your wonderful thing, what does it

matter?” A predictable answer from the enigmatic supermodel who has

people falling at her perfect, beautiful feet wherever she goes.

“I can help prep you if you want.” Henry’s lips twist in thought. “But it

might not be the right move for you.”

“What do you mean? It’s Nordstrom.” Where’s he going with this?

“This is your company, Abbi. Your brand. No one else’s. You get to call

the shots. But do you want my opinion?”

“Of course. Always.” Henry runs a multibillion-dollar empire. There’s

no one’s advice I value more, even if it’s for my little soap business.

“Don’t be so quick to hand it over to anyone.”

I frown. “But I thought landing distribution in a department store is the

end game.”

“Maybe. But in today’s retail world, maybe not. You clearly have

something people want. You’re only just starting out and look at all the

demand you’re already stirring up.”

“You mean that Margo is stirring up.” She’s been tapping into beauty

industry connections that even Henry doesn’t have.

“She knows who to talk to, I agree.” Henry leans forward, resting his

elbows on his knees. “But you don’t want to lose control too quickly by

signing contracts that handcuff you. Besides, a contract like that means you

have to find a production facility, which means you risk manufacturing a

subpar product because you can’t possibly make that much by hand. That’s

something you want to work up to, instead of getting thrown into.”

“So you don’t think I should pursue this.”

He hesitates. “It’s your company.”

I groan with frustration. “Henry, you’ve been involved with my

company since this all started. Now you’ve decided to stay out of it?”

“Fine. I don’t think you should take the deal.” His voice has shifted to

that typical commanding tone. “You can have a highly successful business

without your product ever touching a shelf inside a store, at least for now.

My advice is to stay the course. Build your name on your own first. Retail

store contracts will be worth that much more later.”

I weigh Henry’s words. “Zaheera seems to know what she’s doing.” In

the time since Henry hired and paid for Nailed It to step in and help memake something of my hobby, I now have stylish packaging, a website, and

a basic but perfect new name—Farm Girl Soap—for my legal company.

“They’re the best at what they do. That’s why we went with them.”

“We?” There was no “we” in that decision the day I got the phone call

from Zaheera.

Henry ignores me. “She’ll make sure it grows at a healthy rate that

you’re comfortable with, so you’re not overwhelmed. Besides, you still

have a degree to finish, right?”

I wince at the reminder. “I’m so behind.” After my father’s accident,

when I knew I couldn’t head back to Chicago to finish my last year fulltime

because my parents needed help, I enrolled in correspondence courses.

I’ve barely touched the assigned work for this semester, too wrapped up in

life with Henry.

“You’ll get there.” He takes my hand in his, his thumb sliding over the

pearl. “And now you have a wedding to plan too.”

A thrill radiates through me as I admire the ring again. My wedding to

Henry. Because Henry will be my husband soon. It still doesn’t feel real,

and I doubt it will until I’m walking down the aisle. “If I can wrestle it

away from Mama.” I held my breath when I announced the good news over

the phone just before leaving Wolf Cove, not sure what to expect from a

woman who has done everything in her power to keep Henry and me apart,

including ingesting caffeine pills to fake a heart attack.

The whoop of glee that escaped her had my mouth hanging. According

to her, Henry is doing the honorable thing … finally. We’ve only been

together a few months.

Henry chuckles. “At least she’s not knitting a Henry doll to burn in

effigy.”

“Have you met Bernadette Mitchell? She’d be afraid God himself

would strike her with lightning for something so sinful as black magic.”

His laughter grows, his eyes twinkling. “Do you think she’ll keep it

quiet—”

“Not a chance.” There won’t be a soul in Greenbank, Pennsylvania, who

won’t have heard about my engagement by the end of the day, which means

the media will find out shortly after. With all the interest in Henry these

days, that’s likely to cause a stir. Will the headlines be kind or judgmental?

Worry gnaws at my bliss, threatening to damper it.

“And did you tell her it would be in Alaska?”

“One hurdle at a time.” Though I suspect that will be a monumental one

to overcome. Mama will have her heart set on including the entire church

congregation, and we can’t possibly be expected to fly them all up there.

Henry’s wry smirk says he guessed as much. “Wolf Hotels has a special

events planner for big occasions. I’ll have Miles contact her to call you next

week to start the ball rolling. She’s good. Her name is Jill, and she’ll

organize anything you want.”

“We want,” I correct him. “It’s your wedding too.”

“Abbi, if it were up to me, we’d be driving to the courthouse from the

tarmac as soon as we land, and I’d be fucking my wife by nightfall.”

“How romantic,” I tease, but my stomach flips with nerves. There is

something swoony about his sudden impatience to marry me.

A dangerous glint lights in his eye as his grip tightens. “You want

romance, Abbi?”

“I want you.”

“You already have me.” He yanks me forward and onto his lap, my legs

straddling his thighs. “Every inch of me.” Heat from his strong, skilled

hands seer my skin through my black leggings as they slide around to cup

either side of my ass, pulling me forward until our torsos are flush against

each other and that delicious hard ridge is pressing into the apex at my

thighs.

I wind my arms around his neck, my wrists entwined behind his head.

“I’ve never been happier in my life,” I whisper, a bubble of exhilaration

stirring as I lean in to capture his plump lips.

“Same,” he murmurs against my mouth before our tongues meet in a

slow, seductive dance that quickly spirals, his hand seizing a fistful of my

hair, angling my head back so he can get closer.

Jack, the co-captain, slips out from the cockpit. “Sorry to disturb. We’re

about to start our descent, and we’ll have you on the ground shortly. Is there

anything you need in the meantime?”

“Draw the privacy curtain,” Henry demands in a gruff voice.

Could he make it any more obvious?

Heat crawls up my neck as I catch Jack’s sly smile.

“Yes, sir.” He taps his ring finger and mouths “Congratulations” before

shutting us out with the thick gray curtain.

I let out a yelp as Henry stands and spins us around, releasing me into

the seat he just vacated. He drops to his knees.“What are you doing?”

“You need to ask that?” He tugs my shoes off and casts them aside, and

then his fingers curl around the waistband of my leggings, peeling them,

along with my panties, past my ankles, leaving me bare from the waist

down.

Moisture pools at my core as he pushes my thighs apart, exposing me to

the setting sun that streams in through the portal windows. “We were rough

on you last night.” His index finger slides along my folds before easing

inside.

I wince at the intrusion. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” He hooks his arm under my thigh and pulls my body

toward him, halfway out of my seat. “But you will be.”

I barely bite back the moan at the first swipe of his tongue, but I can’t

stop from crying out as he licks my sensitive flesh. From this angle, I can

see everything he’s doing, and I watch intently as he seals his mouth over

my clit.

Two fingers plunge in and find that spot deep inside. He puts pressure

on it, stirring a flood of warmth.

“No one but me will ever taste you again, Abbi,” he purrs, his voice

vibrating deep within me.

“No one,” I pant, my breath ragged as pressure builds low in my belly.

He slips his fingers out and his hands find the backs of my thighs,

making my skin slick. He pushes them farther apart, stretching my body as

far as it can go as his eyes flip to meet mine.

I see the truth in his hooded gaze, how much he enjoys doing this.

That tongue is mine for the rest of our lives …

His mouth seals over my clit, sucking hard.

My orgasm hits suddenly and unexpectedly. I stifle my cries and grab

the back of his head, my fingers digging into his silky hair as I buck against

his mouth, trying to get closer, to draw it out.

I haven’t even settled before Henry is unfastening his jeans and pushing

them down his thighs. I cry out as he shoves his hard length into me in a

single thrust.

“Wait!” I gasp.

He stalls his hips. “Are you that sore?”

“No, I just …” I am that sore, but I’m also desperate to have Henry

come inside me. “I just need a minute. Please,” I say, even as I roll my hips