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“Watch what I’m doing to you,” he demands, and I do, watching with fascination as his mouth opens and his tongue curls around and around my clit.

The moment I start to feel the build in my pelvis, Henry’s eyes flash with satisfaction. He somehow knows I’m close to orgasm. He guides my body down and, in with a few quick tugs and pulls, his pants are undone, his cock is out, and he’s pushing into me.

I cry out at the sudden pressure and the deep angle, with him still on his knees and my hips pulled up to meet him, but he doesn’t slow down, hooking his arms around the backs of my thighs and driving into me over and over again until I’m so wet that his thrusts become noisy with slick slaps. There’s something different about this time—the look in his eyes, the lack of words, the steely gritted tension in his jaw—that sets off an alarm somewhere in the back of my mind.

But I ignore it, unable to focus on anything right now but my euphoric high.

My orgasm comes on so suddenly that I’m not ready for it, and Henry is pounding against me so hard and fast that it’s paralyzing in its ferocity.

He follows only moments later, grunting rather than crying out, his muscular body straining beneath his shirt. The moment I feel the last jerking pulse of his cock, he pulls out and releases my body to slide down to the ground like a floppy rag doll, fully spent.

“Get dressed. I’ll walk you home.” He stands and heads immediately for the bathroom.

Leaving me lying naked on the white rug.

Feeling truly used for the first time, and not in a good way.

I struggle with my confusion as I pull my clothes on.

We walk in complete silence all the way to the staff village, two feet between us at all times and, when we reach cabin seven, all Henry says is, “See you at seven tomorrow morning.”

I stare after him until he disappears into trees and darkness, bewildered .

Chapter Twenty-Five

The morning sun is streaming through the window when I arrive at seven. Henry’s already dressed in his suit and at the desk, typing furiously.

“Good morning,” I offer, helping myself to a cup of coffee. Despite going to bed with tangled thoughts, my body shut down and did not want to restart this morning when my alarm went off at six. While I hoped I’d wake up having come up with some logical explanation for Henry and his severe swings in mood and intentions, all I woke up accepting is that I have no idea which version of Henry I’m going to get when I walk in today.

He finishes up what he’s doing and hits Send before offering a “good morning” back. His eyes settle on me through a sip of his coffee. “How are you feeling today?”

Because you abused my body yesterday? “Fine.”

“Good.” He nods more to himself, a thought skittering behind those blue eyes. “I have a meeting with some people this morning, and my father and brother are arriving in the afternoon, along with droves of media flying in for tomorrow’s grand opening event. There will be a lot going on, and a lot of people will want my attention. It’s going to be a stressful time for me.”

“How do you plan on handling that stress?” I keep my tone neutral, though the implication is thick.

He offers only a tight smile. “Things will be different around here for a few days.”

I get his meaning. Around here means between us. I can’t blame him for that. “Just let me know how I can best help with the circus.”

“I will. Thank you.” His eyes finally lift to meet mine. I see worry in there. And something else. A touch of fear. “I can trust you to remain discreet, right? What we had—have—will stay between the two of us?”

“Of course.” My heart tightens at the past tense slip, but I blame it on his nerves. His mind is clearly wrapped up in something. I’m sure it has to do with his father, and all the media attention.

Finishing the last of his coffee, he stands to leave. Taking a few steps away, he stalls, then turns and walks back to plant a soft kiss on my lips.

“Everything will be okay.”

He gives me a tight smile and then heads out the door.

I guess I need to get used to this, with a guy as successful and important as Henry.

It’ll certainly keep things interesting around here.

With a sigh, I take the seat he just vacated and open his e-mail inbox. One of those “Confidential—Legal” e-mails sits on top. It must have come in last night, while I was passed out on the carpet. It’s no longer bolded so I know he has seen it.

I make to drag it into the Legal folder but I accidently click on it instead. I’m aiming the mouse for the “x” to close it when a name catches my eyes.

Kiera.

That name that both Belinda and those men that day around the table mentioned.

I can’t help myself.

Henry,

Kiera’s lawyer has informed me that she has decided not to sign and accept the settlement we’re offering. Her husband has persuaded her to file a civil suit against Wolf Hotels. She is also pressing criminal charges against you for forced sexual intercourse. We need to get PR involved for damage control ASAP, and discuss what the prosecutors may be able to dig up on similar indiscretions, etc. The media will eat this up. I haven’t informed your father yet. Would you prefer to do it?

Call me.

D.C.

I feel the blood drain from my face. Forced sexual intercourse? Damage control? Criminal charges? Similar indiscretions, etc.?

This can’t be about Henry. But it is. It says the charges are going to be against him.

With shaky fingers over the mouse, I scan the e-mails in the folder marked “confidential.” They’re all correspondence between Henry and some guy named Dyson, a Wolf attorney based on his signature. E-mails about paperwork for a settlement being delivered, and such. I scroll further back, to an e-mail from a month ago with an attachment for review.

I click on the attachment.

It’s a sixteen-page settlement offer to Mrs. Kiera Clayton, former Wolf Hotel employee, whose position was terminated three months ago.

Her position as Henry’s personal assistant.

And she’s being offered several hundred thousand dollars in exchange for her agreement for complete confidentiality, including discussion of any sexual relationship she may have had with her boss.

Henry M. Wolf.

I curl my arm around my stomach as it begins to churn, threatening to kick its contents out. “Oh God.”

What kind of man did I just get involved with?

To Be Continued in Wolf Bite.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading Wolf Bait. I know that it ended on a bit of a cliff hanger (a bit?) I plan on taking Abbi and Henry on quite the adventure and it will take much more than one book to accomplish that.

If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave a review. I would greatly appreciate it.

Best,

Nina West

About The Author

Nina West lives in the city but spends her summers in the wilderness with her husband. She loves having a steaming cup of cocoa in one hand and a steamy story full of angst in the other.

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