by Nina West
Henry... his only true son.
I rub a soothing hand over Henry’s thigh. “And you didn’t know about any of this?”
“No. My dad called me while we were in France to tell me he needed a face-to-face with me, that there were going to be some big changes coming soon. But he didn’t tell me what, exactly. And then he died the next day.”
“Scott still thought he was getting the mine.” He said as much to Crystal. “He must not have known any of this.”
“He had no fucking clue. Of course he’s claiming that he’s a legitimate Wolf and it’s all a lie. But my dad had the DNA tests run without Scott knowing.”
I shake my head. “And here I thought dealing with my family was hard.”
“Told you.” He holds his glass of Scotch out for me.
I wave it away, my eye catching on a small, ornately carved wooden box sitting on the coffee table next to the audit. “This is pretty.”
“It was my grandmother’s.”
I hesitate. “Can I open it?”
There’s a pause. “Sure.”
Inside is a medley of jewelry.
“She could afford the biggest diamonds in the world, but she didn’t care for them. Or jewelry to begin with. But she loved pearls.”
“I see that.” I hold up an elaborate silver and pearl brooch to inspect it more closely.
Henry watches me closely. “You like that one?”
“I do. It’s beautiful.”
“I gave her that for Christmas one year. It ended up being my last holiday with her.” There’s a hint of sadness in his voice.
“You have good taste.” I set it back in the box and pull out a ring.
“That was her engagement ring.”
I hold it up to the light. It’s simple in design. The gold band is thin and smooth, with several well-placed claws reaching up to secure a small white pearl at the center. Surrounding it is a cluster of tiny diamonds. Jus enough to give it some sparkle. “It’s so... understated and yet classy.”
“That was her.” I feel Henry’s eyes studying me as I admire the ring, imagining the kind of woman she must have been. She was really the only mother figure he ever had, and it sounds like he was close to her.
“I think I would have liked her.”
“I think so, too,” he says quietly. “My grandfather pulled that pearl right out of an oyster. And then he went down into the mine and mined the gold for the band.”
“He did not.”
“Did, too.”
“That’s... really romantic.” But I shouldn’t be too surprised. I’ve seen the wood cabin that Henry’s grandfather built with his own two hands in Wolf Cove, not far from the hotel. That Henry and his grandparents spent their summers in.
Henry takes a long sip of his Scotch. “And now I have that fucking gold mine, full of traps and God knows what else to solve for. How the hell am I supposed to do that while I’m running the hotel? I can’t be in all these places at once.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, the tension radiating off him. I’ve never seen Henry overwhelmed before. Even when Wolf Cove was opening and the pressure was high, he remained steely.
Or maybe he’s just opening up to show me what was hiding under that tough exterior all along.
“How’d your grandfather do it? And your dad?”
“There were always two generations of Wolfs to manage things. And the hotel chain was half the size that it is now. And they had a guy they trusted for the mine. He worked there for almost fifty years before he died.”
“Sounds like you need to find people you trust, too.”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
I stifle my eye roll as I pull my legs up onto the couch, getting comfortable. “You trust Belinda. You’re sending her to Barcelona.”
“Yeah, she knows what she’s doing,” he admits, reluctantly.
“I’ll bet there’s at least a few more of her working for Wolf. People you pay a lot of money to, so they can do things like... oh, I don’t know... run hotels.”
He mock frowns. “Are you telling me how to run a multibillion-dollar company, Abigail Mitchell?”
“Me?” I press my hands to my chest. “I would never even attempt to do that. I’m just here to look pretty.”
His gaze drifts over me. “You do look pretty, tonight. In fact, stunning.”
“Thank you.” I smile and then lean in to plant a kiss on the tip of his nose, afraid to press against his injured lip. “Margo wanted us to meet her and friends tonight. But we don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to—”
“I don’t want to,” he says without missing a beat.
“Okay.”
“I just... I don’t know what the fuck to do, Abbi. Even though I can’t stand that bastard, at least I could rely on him. I thought I could. Now? I’m it. I’m the last legitimate Wolf.”
“Well, for now, maybe. But once you have kids....” My words drift as his eyebrows spike. Probably not the time to bring that up. I settle my hand around the back of his neck, and let my thumb draw along it. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out. You’re just shocked and overwhelmed right now. Everyone’s allowed that for a night.”
He sighs.
“So what do you want to do?”
“Not think.” He reaches for the TV remote, his calloused hand smoothing over my bare knee as he hits the power button. “Watch the ball game, call for pizza, and fuck you right here, on this couch.”
His words are an instant promise that I feel between my thighs. I can’t help but shift my legs apart. “In that order?” I ask innocently, watching his gaze drop and become heated with intent.
He slips his hand beneath the hem of my dress and between my legs, all the way to hook under my panties. I gasp as his fingers sink deep into me with one push.
“No, definitely not in that order.” He turns the TV off.
~ ~ ~
“I’m leaving for Barcelona,” Henry announces the moment I step into the closet—an entire room, really, with more suits hanging on racks than I’ve seen in any department store.
“So soon?” I watch him throw open his suitcase and my disappointment swells. I knew this was coming, but after yesterday’s shock, I figured he’d be sticking around for a while.
“The sooner I get Belinda up to speed with the new management team in place, the sooner I can get back.”
“But what about Wolf Gold?”
As if mention of the mines reminds him of Scott’s actions, he reaches for his lip. Aside from the thin cut and some discoloring, it’s barely noticeable this morning. “I’ve already shared the internal audit with the legal team who has power of attorney, and they agree the issues need to be handled urgently. They’re shutting down the mine.” Henry eyes the racks of custom suits before carefully plucking one out. “Navy?”
“No. That’s black. This one’s navy.” I point to another. “But that’s a lot of people out of work.”
“That’s a lot of people who won’t die in the next few weeks. At least, not while in my mine,” he counters, grabbing three more suits and carrying them out to toss on the unmade bed, where a garment bag waits. “It’s the right thing to do. It gives us a chance to address the biggest safety issues as quickly as possible.”
Gone is the overwhelmed and vulnerable Henry of last night. This Henry is the powerful tycoon whose father left him in charge for good reason.
I sigh, unable to hide my frustration as I pull out several pairs of socks and briefs from the drawer for him. “Okay. I guess I’ll see what kind of flight Miles can book for me, back to Greenbank.”
“You need to get those samples to Margo.”
“Right.” I updated him on the day with Margo while lying in bed last night. He seemed more excited about it than I am. “For the record, I think she’s nuts.” Now that I’ve had some time, I’m able to think more rationally. “Why would Nordstrom or Macy’s want to carry my product line?”
“If anyone knows that industry, it’s Margo. Tr
ust her.” He grabs stacks of t-shirts and a few casual outfits and sets them into his suitcase without thought, like he’s done this a thousand times—which he probably has.
“But what if her tastes are skewed because of her... feelings or attraction, or whatever it is she has for me.”
Henry smirks. “If there’s one thing I love about Margo, it’s her ability to separate her sexual proclivities from her business conquests.”
“So her helping me has nothing to do with you?” The way she spoke about Henry yesterday, of using thoughts of him to pose in a provocative way, it was as if she was pulling from personal experience. Which maybe she is, because they have slept together. Between that and the fact that she wants to partner with him for the chateau she owns in France, to turn it into a boutique Wolf Hotel location, she has plenty of reason to try to impress me as incentive for him.
“You trust me, right?”
“Right.”
“And I trust Margo. If she’s helping you, it’s because she believes in your product line and she thinks you have something people will want. And because she likes you.” Tossing his toiletries kit in, he tugs on the zipper of his suitcase. “She is one of the most honest and transparent people you will ever meet. Take her advice and her help, and run with it. She’ll get you set up. Call me before you make any big decisions and don’t sign anything without passing it through my legal team, but otherwise you’re in good hands. She’ll get your business off the ground better than I could.”
“I doubt that.”
“You’ve got big things coming your way, Abbi. I promise.”
Bigger than Henry Wolf? I think not.
“Why does it matter so much to you, anyway?”
He sighs, almost with exasperation. “I’ve already told you why. Because I want you to have something in your life that’s yours, that you can feel proud of.”
I wander over to my suitcase, lying open on the floor in the corner and overflowing with a heap of clothes. I groan. “How much would I have to pay Raj to do my laundry while I’m here?” The male housekeeper comes three times a week to clean the penthouse and take care of Henry’s household chores when he’s in town.
“I’ll add it to his list of responsibilities.” Henry smirks, eyeing the mess. He knows how much I hate any sort of housekeeping.
“I might need to borrow a suitcase from you, just to get all this home. I didn’t realize how much clothing I bought.”
“They’re in the hallway closet.” Henry is halfway out the bedroom door when he stops, frowns. “Why don’t you just leave it here? There should be some room on the left side of my closet.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You shouldn’t be living out of a suitcase when you’re in New York, anyway.” He regards me carefully. “Leave whatever you want. Toothbrush, razor... whatever.”
He vanishes out of the bedroom as my stomach flips with both nervousness and excitement.
~ ~ ~
Henry checks his watch, though the clock on the stove beside him has the correct time. Henry’s a watch guy.
And a prompt guy.
“I’ll call you when I land.” He grabs his phone and MacBook. His luggage has already been taken down by a bellhop.
“Wait!” I round the island to rope my arms around his waist.
“We’ve already done this.”
I peer up at him. “And now we’re doing it again.”
His jaw tightens. “You know I hate long goodbyes.”
“And I hate saying goodbye to you, period.”
“Well, unless you’re coming to Spain with me, we can’t avoid it, now can we?”
“I wish I could, but I can’t. You know that. Not until my father’s healed enough to get around on his own.”
“I know it. But I don’t like it,” he says in that typically cool tone of his. It’s his way of countering his emotions, I realize now.
I reach up to adjust a strand of his wavy chestnut brown hair. The perfect Henry Wolf has to spend a good fifteen minutes styling it to be that way. The tousled look he wakes up with? It’s equally sexy, but no one gets to see it except for me. “As soon as my daddy’s back on his feet, I’m all yours. I promise.”
His lips twist. “Whenever I want?”
I lift onto my tiptoes to run my nose just under his jawline, a weak spot for him. “Whenever you want.”
“Wherever I want?”
I let my lips part to taste his skin ever so lightly. “Wherever you want.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be going back to school?” he asks smoothly, as if this isn’t affecting him at all. But his quickening breaths betray him.
“I’m a college dropout, remember?” I have one year at Northgate Christian College in Chicago to go. At first I was deferring it because of Daddy’s accident. Now? If I’m being honest, it has more to do with Henry. I know that’s wrong and stupid, that my education is important. I just can’t see myself trudging through the snowbanks with a backpack of books, or giving all my focus to my studies when this man is around to distract me.
He chuckles. “I thought you were looking into correspondence?”
“I have. I’m starting two courses next week. Jed’s taking them with me. We can study together.”
“Great.” Henry glowers. “Make sure Fuckface doesn’t get any ideas.”
“Don’t forget that Fuckface is the reason I was able to go to France with you.”
“Because your mother wouldn’t let me hire help for the farm.”
“And she never will. Besides, Jed realizes that we’re better off as friends.” I press myself against him, and feel that he’s fully hard. “He knows how I feel about you.”
Henry closes his eyes and demands softly, “Say it.”
I haven’t said those words since the other night. But my courage swells with his invitation. I stretch onto my tiptoes, my lips reaching for his ear to whisper, “I’m madly in love with you, Henry Wolf. I can’t stop thinking about you. Wanting you. Needing you. Every part of you.”
His responding exhale is long and heavy.
I reach down to fumble with his belt and zipper.
“Abbi, my plane is waiting,” he reminds me in a pained voice.
“I’ll be quick, I promise,” I murmur, dropping to my knees, taking his pants and briefs with me to expose his swollen length. It’s in this act, when my fingers dig into his bare hips and my mouth has full control over his pleasure, that Henry is the most vulnerable.
I run my tongue along the smooth underside of him from root to tip, eliciting a deep groan. I tease him for another few long moments, swirling the tip of my tongue around his sensitive tip, tasting the saltiness that begins to bead, before he groans a second time. “Stop teasing me,” he hisses, gripping the back of my head roughly—but not painfully—in one hand, his eyes blazing.
With a smile, I open wide and he thrusts his hips, filling my mouth. I can tell it’s not going to take long as I suck hard and he swells even more, until my mouth is stretched as far as it can go and my teeth graze lightly against his skin.
The bright kitchen fills with his cries as he releases into my mouth. “Goddammit, Abbi,” he curses between pants. “I need you with me.”
I smile, climbing to my feet once again, the taste of him on my tongue. “Soon,” I murmur, gently tucking him back into his briefs and doing up his pants for him. I cup his now sensitive area through his pants and give it a rub, earning his sharp hiss. “Until then, think about that. And don’t be mean to Belinda. You need people like her working for you.”
He leans down to press his forehead against mine. He opens his mouth and I hold my breath, sure I can sense the words on the tip of his tongue, desperate to hear them.
“I’ll call you when I land.” With a gentle kiss on my lips, he peels away and heads out the door.
Chapter Seven
The silver Dodge Ram that Henry bought me is sitting beside the barn when the airport limo pulls into the driveway to drop me off. Jed st
ands next to it, shirtless and deeply tanned, smoothing a soapy sponge over the hood.
I thank the driver and, leaving my suitcase on the grass, I make my way over. “Looks like you took good care of it.”
“Of course I did. I want you to keep letting me drive it.” He flashes me a grin as he scrubs the grill. “It got pretty dusty out here on these roads. Lots of dead bugs.”
I giggle. “Trust me. This is nothing compared to the trucks in Alaska.” The truck I used to drive around in with Connor and Ronan had a permanent, thick layer of corpses on its hood.
Thoughts of that bring me to thoughts of those two guys, and how much I miss working—and laughing—with them every day.
“So?” Jed tosses the sponge into the bucket. “How was France? I mean, I know the trip was cut short and all, but you must have had a great time.” He may have finally relented to the idea that we’re better off as just friends, but I know Jed well enough to know it still irks him that I’m with Henry. Or, maybe more specifically, that he will never be able to compete against a guy like Henry and win.
I smile. “It was incredible. If you ever have a chance to go, you should.”
“Yeah... one day, maybe.” His hands run through his shaggy blond hair. Not for the first time do I notice how much more muscular he is. The old me would have been drooling over him. Now? Not a skipped heartbeat, not a flicker of desire.
“How have things been around here?”
“Same old. Busy.” He throws a hand toward our original barn, to the new shiny silver metal roof that I fought with Mama to pay for. “They just finished putting that in two days ago. Looks good. Solid.”
“And just in time. I have a lot of work to do.” I tell him about Margo and her ideas.
Jed’s mouth is hanging open by the time I’m done. “Margo Lauren? You, like, actually know her?”
“I do.” You can’t even imagine how well.
“Dang. This new life of yours is something else.”
