Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Come on.” I lead Sloane over by the hand.
“… sushi’s a big no-no.” Abbi’s hand smooths over her belly.
“Of course, that makes sense,” the pretty blond server with corkscrew curls says. “Let me ask the chef to put together a plate for you.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.” Abbi waves her off.
“I insist, Mrs. Wolf. I’ll be back in less than a minute.” She ducks away, her mission imperative.
“Hey, Red,” I call out.
Abbi spins around, her eyes flashing wide on Sloane before darting back to me. “Ronan! I was looking for you. I heard you took off.”
“Just for a walk on the beach.” I lean in to kiss her cheek, catching a whiff of her shampoo. It used to be my favorite scent, but Sloane’s spell-casting perfume has officially assumed top spot. “This is her,” I whisper.
“You were supposed to give me some warning,” she hisses back in my ear.
By the time I’ve pulled away, Abbi has her smile firmly affixed. “Hi. You must be Sloane.”
Beside me, Sloane stands frozen for a few beats before seeming to snap out of it. “Yes. Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” She hesitates, her gaze dropping to Abbi’s belly. “I didn’t realize you were expecting.”
“Oh, yes.” Abbi beams. “A few more months. I can’t wait to meet her, but also to have my body back.”
An unreadable look passes over Sloane’s face. “Wow, that’s … congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Abbi’s eyes flitter to me before she continues. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Sloane winces. “Yeah …”
“I mean, from Ronan,” Abbi clarifies with a laugh. “I don’t get involved in Henry’s business stuff.”
“Here you go, Ms. Wolf.” The server is back as fast as promised, handing Abbi a small plate with delicacies from one hand before offering the platter balanced in her other hand to us. “Seared scallops?” A stack of napkins miraculously appears. The woman’s an octopus.
“Is that tobiko?” I ask, eyeing the little orange balls.
“It is!”
I collect one. “Make sure you head over there to that blond guy.” I point to where Connor is, next to Margo. “He loves tobiko.”
Sloane presses her lips together as if to keep from laughing.
“Absolutely.” With a beaming smile up at me, the server strolls away.
“The service here is unreal.” Abbi sizes up the choices on her plate with delight.
“Have you been to the spa yet?” I ask before stuffing the scallop into my mouth. It’s the first thing I’ve eaten since Abbi and I sprawled out in the cabana this morning, and I’m famished.
“Yes! They have a great prenatal massage and …” Abbi’s words trail a moment before my name is called by a deep, male voice.
12. Sloane
How did I forget that Abbi Wolf is pregnant? Now that I’m looking at her swollen belly, I do recall seeing a headline or two somewhere announcing the news, but it obviously slipped my mind. Now, it’s thrown me off-balance from the word hi.
Henry Wolf spawning hasn’t softened my hate-filled feelings toward him, but I feel an odd kinship to this woman as I eye her specially selected plate of food and wonder if I’ve eaten anything harmful tonight. Maybe I should have spent the day reading up on dos and don’ts of pregnancy instead of styling my hair and steaming my dress.
“Ronan.” The cool, overly calm voice comes just as Ronan is stuffing a scallop into his mouth.
Somehow, I know who it belongs to.
My pulse thumps in my throat as we turn to face the imposing figure behind us.
Okay, so the magazine photos have not been airbrushed. Henry Wolf is as handsome and tall and commanding as he appears in print, and then some, as he looms over our huddled group like a brewing storm.
Ronan can’t answer. His mouth is full, and he’s chewing slowly. But he meets Henry Wolf’s hard gaze with one of his own, and a wordless exchange seems to happen in that lengthy stare.
“They brought me a plate of food. All safe for the baby,” Abbi interrupts the nonverbal showdown. “The service is fantastic. You should tell whoever’s running this night.”
Henry Wolf finally relents. “I’m glad to hear that.” He’s wearing a simple black dress shirt and tailored pants, and yet he somehow looks more elegant than the men in full suits.
“Have you met Sloane yet? Ronan’s … uh … girlfriend?”
Dissecting, cold blue eyes land on me, and I fight the urge to shrink. There is no doubt he recognizes me from his PI’s exposé. “Sloane Parker. Our renowned neighbor. No, I haven’t had the pleasure.” Grim humor dances across his face.
So this is what it feels like to stand face-to-face with the billionaire who has ruined my last five years of sleep.
Okay, let’s dance. I steel my spine. “So great to finally meet you, Henry.”
“I’ll bet.” He turns his attention back to Ronan. “I knew you had a set on you, but I didn’t think they were this big.”