“Shower with me?” My skin reeks of chlorine.
“Yeah, just a minute.” Henry frowns at his phone.
“What’s wrong?”
“Scott called me three times in the last hour. He never calls me.”
I stifle my groan—if there is only one person I hate in the world, it’s Henry’s brother—as Henry puts his phone to his ear.
“Yeah, what?” Henry doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. He hates his brother as much as I do.
I watch, as Henry’s scowl slips away and his face pales. “When? No….” He turns his back to me, to face the French doors and the rolling hills beyond. “France… yeah… yeah…. No… You didn’t call her, did you?” After a long moment. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He hangs up.
“What’s wrong?”
“My dad had a heart attack.”
“Oh no. Is he okay?” I know William Wolf isn’t in the best of health, with terminal cancer. But to have this happen on top of all that?
“No.” Henry tosses his phone to a table. “I have to fly back to start making funeral arrangements.”
Oh my God.
I don’t know what to do or say except, “I’m so sorry.” I march straight for him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. At first he doesn’t make a move to meet the affection, but slowly, I feel his arms coil around my waist and his face bury into the crook of my neck, and soon his arms are squeezing so tight that it borderline hurts. But I just squeeze him against me tighter.
“He’s all I had left,” he whispers hoarsely.
I remember our roles being reversed, when my dad was knocking on death’s door and Henry swooped in to take care of me. While I can’t do anything to save the day, I can at least take care of him. “Why don’t you grab a shower and get dressed. I’m going to phone Miles and have him make arrangements for your jet. I’ll let Margo know that we’re leaving. And I’m coming to New York to help you sort through this.”
“You have your family to take care—”
“They’ll figure it out. I’m going with you and don’t you dare arg—”
“Okay.” He shifts to rest his forehead against mine, his eyes shut. “I’m not going to argue with you, Abbi. I need you.”
My heart swells. “Then I’ll be here.”
~ ~ ~
I roll both of our suitcases into the hallway. Margo said she’d have someone come and get them for us so we don’t have to lug them down four flights of stairs. The one unavoidable problem of a chateau built in the 1400s is no elevators and no good solution for putting them in.
“Abigail?”
My breath catches with the sound of my name on her tongue. A tongue that brought me to orgasm only hours ago. Does she regret doing that? Do I regret allowing it? “Yes?” It takes me a moment to collect my nerve and look to her, my cheeks flushing.
I see nothing but concern in her eyes as she wanders into our room. “Your car is waiting downstairs.”
“Thank you.” I glance over to the balcony, where Henry stands, talking to someone. He’s been on the phone most of the time since we found out. “I’m sorry to be leaving so abruptly—”
“Non!” Her hands rise in surrender as she approaches me. “Do not apologize for anything at all. I am so sorry that Henry must face this now. I remember when my father passed. It was heartbreaking for me.”
“Yeah, I think he’s pretty upset.” He just doesn’t know how to show it.
Henry comes in. “The car’s here?”
“Oui. He is waiting outside.”
He nods, his gaze drifting from Margo to me, and then back again. “We didn’t really get to talk much business.”
“Another time.” She smiles a beautiful smile as she glides toward him. She cups his jaw in an affectionate way, murmuring something in French.
He responds in kind. She leans forward and kisses his cheek. Just one cheek, not in the French way, in a friendly but intimate way. Oddly enough, I don’t find myself spiking with jealousy as I once did.
No, I don’t regret allowing that to happen. It has bonded the three of us.
She leaves him to come back to me, the fingers of one hand running through my hair, pushing the loose strands off my face, while the other one clasps my hands. “I know you will take good care of him.” I get only a second’s warning as her green eyes dip to my mouth, before she leans in to press her lips against mine in an unhurried kiss.
Releasing my hands, she strolls toward the door. Her eyes graze over the table, where I left the Farm Girl branding mock-ups. “These are for me?” she asks, lifting the note that says as much.
“You mentioned that you might like to try them.” Was she just being polite?
She lifts the fuchsia-colored bar to her nose. “Mmm… rose and sandalwood?”
“Yeah. That’s one of my favorites.”
She closes her eyes with her sigh. “It smells like you.”
Again, I blush, because Margo more than anyone except Henry would be familiar with what soap I’m using. “I hope you enjoy them.”
“Merci. I will cherish them.” She collects them all within her grasp. “Until we meet again.” She disappears down the hall.
“That was smart of you, to give her samples. She has a lot of connections in the beauty industry. If anyone can help you sell your brand, it’s her.”
I grab my purse. “Let’s worry about getting to New York right now.”
“Abbi.” He strolls over to me, his hands coiling gently around the base of my neck. “I just want you to know….” He hesitates. “You are everything that has been missing from my life. These next few days, with my brother and the media and other people… they aren’t going to be easy. You don’t have to put yourself through this for me.”
I stretch to my tiptoes to press my lips against his. “You are everything I didn’t know was missing from my life, and I am not going anywhere, so shut up and let’s go.”
He heaves a sigh of relief.
I follow him out, wondering exactly what New York has in store for us this time around.
Whatever it is, I can handle it.
As long as I’m with Henry.
