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I’m not the ruthless hunter of failing businesses. I’m not the man with a reputation for blood.
I’m Penelope’s, through and through. Nothing else matters but how she feels in my arms. My entire universe shrinks to a pinpoint of life, with Pen at its center.
“Don’t go,” she whispers, nuzzling against me.
Sighing, I rest my cheek on her head. “I don’t want to, but I have to quit the business. That needs to be done in person.”
“I know,” she says. “But I like having you beside me.”
“What are we going to say to the media?”
“About us?”
I grunt in acknowledgement.
Pen sighs, shrugging one shoulder. “I’ll let our media team handle it. Once you quit, there’s no longer a conflict of interest. We can keep it quiet for a period of time.”
“I don’t know if you realize this, Pen, but we have a bit of a ticking clock.” I slide my hand over her stomach, feeling her lips move into a smile against my chest.
“We can hide away at the Summer Palace. Release photos of our wedding after it happens, announce the birth when it happens, not before. People will talk, but... Who cares? My media team is used to dealing with difficult situations—except usually it’s Silas who creates them. We can control the narrative.”
“You’d lie to the people of Nord?”
“To protect my child from rumors? From name calling and controversy? Of course.”
“And to protect me,” I say in a low voice.
Penelope lifts her head to glance at me, a soft smile teasing over her lips. “That too. Not that you need protecting.”
My heart feels so full it’s about to burst. Pen’s fingers trace the outline of my scar, from my shoulder down to the waistband of my sleep shorts and back up again. For once, I don’t stiffen or jolt at the touch. She does that a lot—lets her fingers drift over the line where healthy skin meets scarred. Where the two sides of me come together.
For years, I’ve pushed that part of my history down. I’ve hidden my body. I’ve been…ashamed.
But Pen…God, what did I do to be worthy of her? She makes me feel proud of my scars. She makes me realize I was looking at my past all wrong. I was seeing the worst in people—in myself. But her touch, her love…it melted that part of me that clung onto the negative.
My alarm goes off for the fourth time and a groan rumbles through my throat. “I should get up.”
“The plane will wait.” Pen’s lips curl into a cheeky grin as her hand slips lower, under the waistband of my shorts. “It won’t leave without you.”
“I could get used to these private jets,” I say, tugging at her shirt.
“You’re going to have to.”
“You know, Pen, the day you walked up to me at Gabriel’s wedding?”
“Mm-hmm…” Her lips drift over my chest, trailing kisses all the way down to my navel.
I groan in contentment. “I was thinking of you. I was staring at those roses remembering the way you dragged that little potted plant up to the roof.”
“Were you?” She looks up, head near my waistband, smiling.
“Then you appeared behind me, as if I’d thought you into existence.”
“Arrogant as usual,” she grumbles, laughing. “I always existed, Asher. You just happened to walk back into my life at the right time.”
I release a moan as she kisses a line lower still, leaning back in the pillows as my queen makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world.
Landing in Farcliff is odd. The airport in Farcliff City is familiar, its interior dotted with local chain stores I forgot existed. People are dressed differently—already bundled up for the cooler weather, whereas in Nord, it felt like everyone was trying to soak up as much of the sun as possible before it disappeared for winter.
