My mind is lost beneath the stream of hot water as I weigh my options.
Am I insane for even considering staying? I’m hurt, and angry. Probably as hurt and angry as Kiera was when “they decided it best that she resign.” That’s what Henry said. Did he give her an ultimatum, too?
Maybe that explains why she’d blackmail him, why she’d want to hurt him back for the pain he caused her. Thinking back on it, the e-mails noted her leaving Wolf Hotels three months earlier, and the severance offer coming only a month or so ago. Plus, there’s the “incident” that led to her having Henry’s DNA on her panties three or four weeks ago. That can only mean one thing—that Henry slept with her as recently as three to four weeks ago. Why did he sleep with her then?
Was it because something was still going on between them? Or because he was trying to convince her to sign the gag order? Did he tell her all kinds of things that night? That she was special, and they were different, and he just had to be careful because of his father. That they needed to wait until Henry had control of the company?
Who knows anymore.
All I know is that I don’t think I can be that vindictive as to try and blackmail Henry to get what I want. And honestly, I don’t want anyone knowing what went on behind closed doors while I was supposed to be working. While some women around here would revel in having everyone know they were sleeping with him, I’m not one of them.
“We are so, so, so sorry, Abbi.”
I jump at the sound of Katie’s voice directly behind me. She’s wrapped in a towel and standing in my shower stall. Again.
At least this time she’s not getting a full-frontal view.
“We were so drunk and caught up in the moment, and Rachel thinks Ronan’s hot. Tillie and Lorraine were partying in the lodge, and Autumn texted to say she was on shift until midnight.” She’s rambling, her pretty face scrunched up with a pained expression. “Honestly, we should have at least locked the door or something, but we really weren’t thinking. Those parties go until late and we figured Wolf would make you stay.” She finishes the rant with, “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate us.”
I stick my face under the hot stream of water again, acutely aware that she could be staring at my ass right now. Does that even bother me anymore? Being naked in front of Henry and Michael has definitely shed some of my shyness. “It’s okay.”
“Seriously? You’re not mad at us?”
Oddly enough, I’m not mad. In fact, a part of me envies them for their freedom. It doesn’t seem like they’re weighed down by the kind of guilt or confusion that I woke up feeling this morning.
“No. Not at all. Just… maybe next time give me a heads-up, if you can?” Even if I were mad, I wouldn’t say a word. The last thing I want is for there to be tension in a cabin of six women. That would make for a long summer.
“Definitely.” She hesitates, dropping her voice to a whisper. “And it’s okay, you know.”
“What’s okay?” I glance over my shoulder at her again, to see her biting her plump bottom lip.
“I mean, if you want to watch. Or more. It’s okay.”
“I… don’t,” I stutter, feeling heat crawl up my face. Her perfectly manicured brow arches, as if she’s calling my bluff. She knows I was hiding in my little corner, spying on her and Rachel. “I like guys.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t like to watch.” She shrugs playfully. “You’re curious. And we’re hot. And Ronan is really hot. It’s normal.”
Is it?
I heave a sigh of frustration. Nothing feels normal about Alaska.
“Just thought you should know that we’d be okay with it.” She winks and ducks out of my stall, humming softly.
~ ~ ~
It’s two minutes to one when I approach the service entrance of Penthouse Cabin One, this odd mixture of guilt, and hurt, and anger, and dread weighing down each step.
I still have no idea what my answer is going to be—go back to Greenbank? Or face Henry, day in day out. Feel this every day as I approach this door. Will it get better?
I’m ten feet away from swiping my key card when the main door flies open. Scott barrels out, the back of his hand testing his mouth where his lip has been split and blood trickles down his chin. More blood leaks from his nose, and his left eye is red and puffy, the beginnings of a bruise already evident.
I can’t keep my mouth from dropping at the shocking sight. Someone has punched the hell out of him.
Did Henry and his brother just get into a fistfight?
Scott slows when he sees me, a glower filling his eyes. “You may want to come back in an hour or so,” he mutters, passing by me and heading down the path toward the main lodge.
I frown after him. Why?
Oh my God. Did he hurt Henry?
Panic hits me as I rush through the entrance, visions of him lying in a pool of blood by the dining table making my heart pound in my chest. The interior door is propped open this time, so I don’t hesitate to run into the cabin, holding my breath for fear of what I might find.
I quickly zero in on Henry. His back is to me and he’s standing in front of his desk, his focus beyond the window
Relief overwhelms me. He appears fine.
“Fuck!” He explodes suddenly, picking up a glass and whipping it clear across the room. It hits the fireplace and shatters. Countless pieces of glass scatter in every which direction.
A small shriek escapes me, pulling his head slightly to the left, toward me. But he doesn’t turn to acknowledge my presence with a glance.
What the hell happened in here?
One of the side table lamps lays in pieces, scattered over the hardwood. The crystal decanter has been knocked over too. It’s not broken, but amber liquid has spilled everywhere, and the pungent sweet smell of liquor hangs in the air.
Finally I gather enough nerve. “Henry?”
He looks down to his right hand, flexing it open and closed. “Get me some ice.” After a pause, he adds in an unsettlingly calm voice, “Please.”
I grab the ice bucket and fill it with ice from the freezer compartment, then snatch a towel from the powder room, and bring it over to him.
The softest “thanks” slips from his lips. He still hasn’t met my eyes, his calm and somber mask unexpected given he just delivered a pummeling to his brother and threw a glass in anger.
Uncomfortable silence hangs.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “I just saw Scott.”
He sticks his hand into the ice bucket, a slight wince curling his lip. “It’s been a while since I’ve hit anyone.”
At least three times, from the looks of it. “Do you want to talk about it?”
His jaw tenses and I figure he’s not going to answer. “The last time I saw Kiera, we left things on good terms. I told her she could come back to Wolf and work elsewhere, but she thought it best to start fresh somewhere else. So I was… surprised that she’d be so vindictive.” He finally turns to settle a cold blue gaze on me. “Scott’s the one who convinced her to go after me with the false accusations.”
My mouth drops open. “Are you serious?” His own brother, trying to get him thrown in jail? “How do you know?”
“When you told me about what he said to you in the elevator, I started to wonder how low he’d go to have me cut out. So I had the PI that my lawyer hired to deal with Kiera look into his corporate phone records and the jet travel logs. Turns out he was in New York about a month ago without any of us knowing. He went to meet her, and start filling her head with bullshit. A lot of the same shit he fed to you, about how I had used her all along, how I was fucking around with other women.
“It was right after that Kiera asked me out for a drink and seduced me in my car. It was a moment of weakness on my part, because we had ended it months before. That’s how she ended up with my DNA on her panties. The ones she decided to hold on to.”
That answers my question about why they’d slept together so recently. “Are you sure?”
“She’s admitted to it all. She told us everything. About how, when Scott visited her that first time, he told her I was looking for another attractive assistant to use in Alaska. She knew enough about Scott to not accept what he was trying to reel her into. Still, she was angry and hurt.
“It wasn’t hard for him to call up Wolf Cove and find out that I’d brought you in as my assistant. That’s when he contacted Kiera again, with your picture and some story about staff speculating that we were basically living together in the cabin. It made her crazy, and upset, and he coupled that with the choice of claiming sexual assault or having her husband find out about the affair. He told her that I’d pay the money in a heartbeat just to shut her up, and that all she needed to do was keep the lie about the assault going until they pressed charges. He knew that was all it would take to force my father’s hand. She could recant after that and wouldn’t get into any trouble because the police won’t ever charge a potential rape victim, for fear of deterring others in future.”
My mind is swirling with all this new information, with the extent that Henry’s own brother would go to take over the business. It’s impossible to comprehend, but I don’t come from this world. Is this what it’s like to be a part of the Wolf family, to be surrounded by so much greed and wealth that you’ll do anything, hurt anyone? Maybe this is why their mother ran off!
As angry and upset as I am with Henry, I’m also relieved for him. “So, she’s dropped the charges?”
He pulls his hand out of the bucket and takes a look at his knuckles. They’re red but they don’t look too bad. “Yes. And taking the severance package we offered her. Her husband now knows that there was no sexual assault, so I’m not sure where that will leave things with them. But that’s not my problem. If she had just come to me in the first place, I would have informed my father what Scott was up to and we could have avoided all of this.”
“So, what happens now?”
“Now, my father gives me controlling power of Wolf Hotels. He’s not waiting until the end of June. He’s having the paperwork drawn up today.”
“All because of Scott?”
“To spite Scott, or because he knows I’m the right choice….” Henry shrugs. “I don’t really care. I get what I want and it’s what’s best for the company.”
“Well… that’s good. I’m happy that it all worked out for you.” It doesn’t change what happened between us but I do mean it.
“Are you?” He levels me with steely blue eyes, and I instinctively tense. There’s something behind that gaze, as if he’s restraining himself. And I remember that he smashed a glass. He’s still very angry about something.
“Of course. I wouldn’t want you to be accused of something you didn’t do.”
His lips twitch. “You mean, like being accused of fucking the key media contact who’s doing a write up of my hotel?”
Is he seriously still going to deny it? I swallow my anger, but it’s impossible. “I know what I saw.” The looks, the touches….
Henry folds his arms over his chest, ignoring his sore fist. “And what exactly did you see? Because I know what I saw on the security footage, when I reviewed it to see what the fuck went on that made you think I was with her—me, leaving the main lodge late Friday and heading back to my cabin, fighting the urge to demand that my assistant come here so I can bury myself in her.”
My heart skips a beat but I don’t get a chance to even process that because Henry’s still talking.
“My brother, appearing at the bar the moment I’m gone to lubricate Roshana with enough martinis that she willingly brought him back to her suite.”
My stomach drops. “Scott?”
“My idiot brother knew how important Roshana is to Wolf Cove, so he decided it’d be a brilliant idea to fuck her on Friday night.”
Wait. What? Scott was with Roshana Friday? Not Henry? All those condoms from Friday night weren’t on account of Henry? I frantically wrack my brain with everything I know and think I know. Scott’s the one who told me that Henry and Roshana were together Friday night, but he’s also convinced there’s something going on between us. So Scott lied. But of course he lied. He figured he’d get a reaction out of the poor dumb assistant who’s head over heels for her boss. To get me to confess to our inappropriate relationship. And he’s been around the hotel industry all his life; I’m sure he knows what staff is like. He probably made sure to leave her place littered with condoms just to spark gossip through the housekeeping staff.
My heart begins racing.
If that’s true….
Henry’s voice has turned icy. “What’s wrong, Abbi? You look guilty. Did you do something that you’re perhaps ashamed of?”
I feel the blood leave my face. “No,” I whisper.
“Really?” I swear I hear Henry’s teeth crack from his jaw clenching so hard. “How was Michael this morning?”
Oh my God.
Henry knows.
How the hell does he know?
Tears sting my eyes, because I do feel guilty. I am ashamed.
But… no, it doesn’t matter, I remind myself, as I wipe the teardrops from my cheek. “I saw you last night, leaving the lobby with Roshana and that blonde in the red dress.”
“You saw me walking her back to her cabin, which is directly beside my cabin, and so you just figured you should go and fuck someone else.”
“I know what I saw.”
Anger radiates from him. “Well, I hope it was worth it because Michael is on the ferry as we speak.”
“What!” Did I hear him correctly? “You fired him? You can’t do that!”
“And yet I did.”
“But he didn’t do anything wrong!”
“You let him fuck you!” All calm composure is gone as Henry’s booming voice fills the cabin and his face contorts with rage.
Is he kidding me? “You were off screwing two other women!” I know I sound hysterical now but I don’t care. The tears have begun to slip unbidden again. I don’t think I cried this much even after Jed hurt me.
Henry dips his head away from me, studying the hardwood floor, trying to calm himself, I presume. When he finally looks up again, I see something floating in his gaze that I can’t read.
But that steely face that I now see, I know well. “You’re right,” he says in that overly calm, cool voice. “I did fuck two women. Right over there.” He nods toward the living room, where dirty drink glasses litter the coffee table and the cushions are all out of sorts. Housekeeping hasn’t been in to clean up because Henry doesn’t allow housekeeping in here. “I sat in that chair with a scotch and watched the two of them tongue fuck each other, and then I took turns shoving my cock into first one, then the other.” Each new detail is like a needle-sharp blade poking at my already aching heart. I don’t need to hear the specifics. It only brings it to life in my head. “It was nice, you know, being with two women who knew what they were doing.”
I recoil at the well-timed insult. Now he’s trying to hurt me.
But Henry doesn’t let up, his face twisting with a vicious smirk. “Don’t you dare play the wounded fawn, Abbi. You do play it so well, don’t you? But you didn’t waste any time spreading your legs for another guy.”
How did he turn this into my fault? “You can’t fire Michael.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I can do whatever I want.” He examines the cuff of his dress shirt and, noting the spots of blood on the crisp white material, he begins unbuttoning this shirt.
“No you can’t,” I hear myself say, taking a step back, away from him. “You can’t just do whatever you want.”
“I will own 61 percent of Wolf Hotels by Tuesday, so you are very wrong about that.”
“Does your father know about us?” It’s a simple, innocent question.
And yet the flare in Henry’s eyes tells me he sees the underlying threat immediately. Of course he does. A good predator is always five steps ahead of their prey.
I clear my throat, trying to sound more confident, even through the tears and the shakiness. “I’m guessing he asked and you convinced him that nothing happened between us. You lied right to his face.”
He’s lost interest in his soiled shirt, turning to face me head-on. “What are you trying to get at, Abbi?”
I won’t let him punish Michael. “That you need to give Michael his job back.” Or else.
I don’t need to say it out loud. By the tightness in his jaw, he gets it. “Are you threatening me?” He takes a step forward.
I take three back, suddenly wondering exactly how bad an idea this was. “I’m trying to make sure you do what’s right.”
“And let me guess, letting you stay at Wolf Cove and work wherever you want is also the right thing to do?”
Yes.
“And if I don’t give you what you want, you’re going to tell my father that I fucked you, after I swore up and down that I didn’t?”
I swallow my wariness.
He peels his dress shirt off, tossing it to the chair, his casual persona back. “That sounds an awful lot like blackmail, Abbi. Did you not just learn anything from the situation with Kiera? Did you not learn about how I deal with these kinds of situations?”
That he doesn’t go down without a fight.
And here I am, threatening the one thing he wants more than anything: Wolf Hotels.
What the hell was I thinking?
Suddenly, the thought of staying at Wolf Cove no longer appeals to me. I’d rather deal with Mama and Jed than what Henry will do to me. It really is the devil you know versus the devil you don’t situation, and I suspect making an enemy of Henry would be the worst decision of my life. “I’ll hand in my things to Belinda and be on the next ferry out today.” I turn to leave.
“You’re not leaving Alaska.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “You said I had to stay and work for you, or quit and go back to Greenbank. So, I quit. Have a great life, Henry.” I wish my voice wouldn’t waver so much.
“That was then.” He steps right through the spilled scotch, tracking the liquid toward me, stopping maybe a foot away, his towering body looming over me. “You know, Kiera was going to drop the charges and the lawsuit. I knew that, even before I knew what Scott had done. I knew she would make the right decision because the PI was going to show her the video I had of her spread-eagle on a table. The one I’ve been keeping, just in case.”
My mouth drops open.
“The camera never gets a good view of my face but Kiera… well, her family, her husband, anyone who clicked on that link after we leaked it over the Internet would get a good view of all of her. And I promised her that I’d make sure everyone she knew would see it. I’d say she made the right choice with backing off, don’t you?”
My heart is hammering in my chest.
“To be fair, she had no idea that a video like that exists. Had she, I’m sure Scott wouldn’t have been able to manipulate her into all of this in the first place.” His eyes drop to my mouth. “Most women would think twice before blackmailing a man if they knew he had something as revealing as that on them. Wouldn’t you think so?”
Prickles run down my back. What is Henry saying, exactly?
Has he videotaped us having sex?
My eyes skate around the cabin’s rafters, looking for evidence of a camera. It could be anywhere.
As if my mind and heart haven’t been reeling enough over the past few days, he’s sending me into a new tailspin. Who is this man? Not that I ever mistook Henry for an angel, with his dirty mouth and brash style, but he’s telling me that he videotapes himself having sex with women, without their knowledge?
How could I have been so wrong about him? How could he be the Henry I fell for—gave myself willingly to—only to then so quickly morph to this? Was he always this, and I was just too blind to see it? I can’t keep the tears from trickling out my eyes. “Please don’t do this.”
His mouth opens but he hesitates, squeezes his eyes shut. The chiseled lines of his jaw clench as he hardens his face. “You can go now, but don’t even think about getting on that ferry. Be here at 7:00 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning.”
I rush out the door.
~ ~ ~
“Abbi, aren’t you going to grab dinner?”
“No. I have a terrible headache that I’m trying to overcome,” I lie to Katie, pulling my covers to my neck. Here, curled in a ball within my hidden cocoon of a bunk, curtain drawn, I feel safe. If I go out there, people may ask questions.
Does Katie know that I slept with Michael last night?
Does she know that Henry fired Michael because of me?
She hasn’t said a word to me about Michael, but I figure the gossip must be running rampant.
I almost went to Michael’s cabin. Henry said Michael was already on the ferry but I hoped he was wrong. I wanted to talk to him, to apologize to him. But then I started to worry that he’d somehow figure out why he was fired, and then one thing would lead to another and the whole town of Greenbank would get to see me having sex on some video that Henry leaked because I was stupid enough to try and blackmail him. So I ran straight here.
I don’t even have Michael’s number to text him and see where he is, how he’s doing.
“Do you want me to bring you back something?”
“No. I’m okay, thanks.” I won’t be eating tonight. I won’t be sleeping either.
I’ll be too busy dreading the rest of my summer in Alaska.
