A hard judder of turbulence shook Winnie awake.

It was still dark outside the plane window, but she could see a glint of sunlight on the horizon, gilding the furthest clouds. She checked her phone: 5:30 AM, Pacific Standard Time.

Twisting, she cracked her back and ran a hand through her hair. She’d slept almost six hours since departure.

“Awake, darling?”

West. He was seated across the aisle of the private plane on a sofa of creamy Manila leather, and she smiled at him. He looked beautiful in a collared shirt and tailored slacks, an expensive watch gleaming on his thick wrist. Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil was open on the table next to the bottle of scotch they’d half-finished.

“Mmm-hmm,” she purred, blinking lazily. West’s plane was beautiful, all wood finishing, smooth leathers, and pale carpets. The staff was accommodating, too, as one would expect.

“Breakfast?”

She shook her head and crossed over to sit with him, lifting his arm and settling it around her shoulder. Cuddling close, she ran a hand over his brick-hard stomach.

“Are you worried?” he asked gently. “You shouldn’t be.”

“But I am.” She fingered the permanent love-bite where he’d Marked her as his mate, right at the base of her neck. “I’m sorry. I know we’ve talked this to death.”

“No, it’s all right. I understand.” He shifted so that he could press her head reassuringly into his lap and stroke her bright, soft curls. She relaxed against the warmth of his thigh. “But, Winnie, you have to understand. You’re my woman. No one can touch you. I’ve Marked you.”

“I’m not just afraid of what they’ll do,” she whispered. “I mean, I know they won’t do anything. No one would go against a man like you. But I’m worried . . . what if people talk? What if they see me and they say things and—”

“No one will talk about you,” he said firmly.

“But, West—”

“No one will talk about you,” he repeated. “You’re my woman. It would be suicide.” His hand ran down her shoulder to her breast, and he squeezed it. She hummed with pleasure. “I will not tolerate it.”

“I love you,” she sighed, and he squeezed her breast harder.

“I love you as well,” he answered, his voice low.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed, and she sat up to check it.

“Who is that?” he asked, fingering a stray lock of her hair.

“My sister. It’s a text.”

“Are they settling in?”

She nodded. West had bought her family the floor below theirs at his Fifth Avenue home. “My niece loves the view. Lila says she’s going crazy over the pigeons. And Nana loves that the museums are so close. And Lila’s transfer went through, too, so they’re all happy.”

“Good.” He leaned in and licked her neck. “I want to fill you up, Winnie. I want you to carry a child for me.”

She wanted that, too. “Soon,” she promised, kissing his firm mouth. “After nursing school.”

He ran his hands over the luscious curves of her body, all of them on full display in her tight nylon dress.

“You are beautiful. Beautiful.”

She purred, happy to be adored. “Not more beautiful than Cattail?”

He rolled his eyes. “When did you say you were going to visit her?”

“Second week of June. I have no idea what to expect.”

“Don’t worry, darling. Her clan will be good to you,” West said, running his tongue along the curve of her ear. She shuddered. “You’re her friend. They’ll make you welcome.”

“I just hope your clan does, too.”

He gazed at her, a long, golden look. Finally, he winked.

“They will. They have to. After all, I’m their Alpha. You know what that makes you?”

She bit back a smile. “What?”

“Their queen.” He kissed her, a kiss full of love. “And mine.”