CHAPTER 2 [ONE]

“Remind me why we didn’t stay at Wolf Cove, Victor?” Henry calls

out, stirring me from slumber. I’m still nestled against his chest

where I settled in, his arm slung over my shoulder. I drifted off,

listening to his heartbeat and his deep voice as he caught up on business

calls.

“That’s a good question, sir,” our driver responds cordially.

I blink away the sleep and refocus on the countless streetlights outside,

blurred by drizzle. Horns blare from every direction. “Are we almost

home?”

Henry brushes stray hairs off my forehead before pressing a kiss against

my temple—such an uncharacteristically sweet gesture, especially

compared to the filthy things he did to my body an hour ago. “Two blocks

away. You’ll be in bed within ten minutes.”

“So will you.” I smooth my palm over his curved chest before my

fingertips crawl across the ridges of his abdomen.

Henry’s sigh is full of contentment as he weaves his fingers within

mine, and we wait quietly for our car to navigate the city’s gridlock. Finally,

Wolf Tower comes into view ahead, a grand looming edifice, the tallest

mixed residential and hotel building in the city.

Henry’s body tenses. “The reporters are already here?”

“I don’t think they ever left,” Victor says.

Sure enough, a small horde lingers beneath umbrellas near the entrance,

armed with cameras.

“Not when the Wolf name keeps gifting them such lucrative headlines,”

Henry mutters bitterly. Between William Wolf’s sudden death and then

Scott Wolf’s involvement in it and his subsequent demise, Henry has beencaught in a media swirl for weeks. The mine collapse was the brittle on the

crème brûlée. And now there are highly publicized pictures of the two of us

kissing in the moments after he stepped off the helicopter, covered in dirt

and blood, which will stir all sorts of new questions about New York’s most

eligible bachelor’s relationship.

I can feel myself about to get sucked into the swirl.

Henry must feel it, too, because his arm tightens around me in

protection. “Take us straight to the underground,” he demands, his voice

hard.

“Certainly, sir. Already planned on it.”

“Please and thank you,” I add after a beat.

Victor’s eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror, the corners of his

crinkled with a smile.

Henry leans in to whisper in my ear, “You wouldn’t dare be implying

that I don’t have manners, would you, Abigail?”

I used to quake when he used that even tone with me. Now I snuggle

against his chest. “Never.” He has exceptional manners when he chooses to

use them, but he’s also accustomed to people jumping at his every

command.

“I didn’t think so.” He leans in farther until the light stubble along his

jawline grazes my skin. “But I like those words on your lips. I think you’ll

be using them later.”

His promise stirs a mental image and a memory that ignites my core.

We pull into the valet entrance, waiting for the cars ahead to move.

Photographers have their cameras aimed at our windows, calling out

Henry’s name. It’s all a pointless production, thanks to the impenetrable

tint.

I fish my phone out of my purse and turn it on for the first time since we

landed.

The moment it starts chirping, I wish I hadn’t.

“She’s asked Reverend Enderbey to marry us!” I cry, seeing red as I scroll

through Mama’s messages. All thirty-two that she sent since I hung up with

her before leaving Alaska this morning.

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