Mal’s eyes snapped open.

His body was warm and rested as though he had slept for a hundred years. He held his woman in his arms. Her breath eased in and out, slow and steady. Morning light warmed his pillows. The day was still and at peace.

The day.

He released his wife and bolted upright. The transmission from Draconis. The Outer Rim Company Rank List. He’d missed it.

Hell fire.

Mal leaped from the bed and flew to the desk as though he could somehow go fast enough to reverse time. But time did not reverse; when he arrived, the transmission had still passed him by. He never bothered to record it because he was always awake to hear it live.

Blasting brimstone.

He raked a hand across his face. How had he missed his alarm? Maybe he forgot to set it. Maybe someone turned it off. He would normally check those things, but his wife had begged him to stay with her so sweetly…

She emerged from the bedroom, yawning, with a sleepy smile on her face. “Morning.”

His panic made room for a flush of warmth. Her nubile curves emerged from the fuzzy blanket she held to her chest and made him want to dive back into the bed with her.

No, there was no time for that. He had to confess his error to his siblings, decide on the next product to launch, and call a Justice of the Peace.

But first, the main irritation remained. “Will you show me your art?”

Her yawn choked. “Isn’t it a little early?”

Resistance. Again.

Very well. He would attend to the pressing needs but this final portfolio review would not be forgotten.

“Are you ready to leave?” he asked.

She blinked and looked down at her blanket. “Uh, give me a minute to change.” She hurried to the bedroom and her voice rose, sad and forlorn, a few moments later. “If you can, uh, show me where to find the clothes?”

He showed her the closet, and then he watched her gorgeous body wiggle into undergarments, dark jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and a clean hoodie.

Now that her clothes were on, he wanted to stop and peel them off again. He needed to rub himself on her skin so, even naked, everyone knew she was his.

She glanced over and caught him staring. Her cheeks stained red and her eyes sparkled. “What are you thinking about?”

“Claiming you.”

She blushed even harder.

He grabbed her around the waist, eliciting a startled squeak, and gave in to his obsessive need. He ran his hands up her arms, yanked her T-shirt out of her jeans, and rubbed her soft belly against him.

She giggled. “Hey. Stop. That tickles!”

When she was thoroughly covered in his scent and he was ramrod-hard—and fighting his desire to pinion her to the closet wall and bury his shaft deep within her wet, feminine sheath—he acquiesced to her stated desires and released her.

She caught her breath and almost seemed sorry he had stopped. “Wait.”

He obeyed.

“You messed yourself up.” She fixed his collar and adjusted his business jacket.

Grooming? She was grooming him?

Warm satisfaction glowed in his body. He threw his shoulders back and stood tall, making himself appear more powerful to attract her deeply.

Her smile faded. She patted his collar. “Okay. Now you’re ready.”

He covered her hands to hold her in place. “Something saddens you.”

“Oh. No.” She blushed and tried to tug her hands free. “I was just thinking you’re good-looking. That’s all.”

Yet his good looks made her sad. “Do you wish me to be ugly?”

“That’s impossible.” Her laughter subsided with another sigh. “You’re perfect just as you are.”

You’re perfect just as you are.

His chest tightened. He didn’t know how to respond.

Mal was not perfect. Their company still trailed behind the Carnelians. He’d missed the outer planet report for the first time since landing on Earth. They were still not married. There were many things wrong.

And she would not willingly bare herself to him and show him her art.

He didn’t know how to say that, so instead, he focused on what he understood: Going to work and working. “Ready?”

“Yes. No!” Her eyes widened, and she jerked free. “Let me grab my tablet. And my coat. And breakfast. Just a second.”

Once again he focused on himself that he ignored her needs.

Already he forgot his commitments. The company was easy. It was a checklist of basic tasks. Thinking of his wife—paying careful attention to her—that was hard.

Because it was a luxury. Giving all his care to her was like giving into his deepest urges. If he wasn’t careful, his control would slip.

“Take as many seconds as you need,” he told her.

She hurried around the lair gathering her materials and disappeared into the kitchen.

He found a nice, thick jacket for her in the closet. His skin was twitchy from the need to depart. Or take her back into the bedroom. But he would wait. Patiently. Even if it killed him.

He was also too conscious of her in the kitchen. How would it be in the office together? Today he was going to be worthless.

His phone rang. It was Jasper.

“When will you arrive?” His normally placid Operations Manager sounded on edge. “Amber wants to start the meeting.”

His chest heated. They were doing things without him. “What meeting? I called no meeting.”

“How else can we handle this emergency?”

“What emergency?”

“Didn’t you listen to the broadcast?”

His stomach sank. He’d only missed one broadcast in his entire tenure. “What?”

Jasper’s tone turned flat. “Our mother discovered that we asked our uncle to take her on the pleasure cruise to delay her from meeting our non-existent women. She’s furious. And she says if we care more about our company than about our own mother, then we can just run our company by ourselves.”

“What does that mean?” Mal demanded. “She won’t let us use the aristocrat transport stations under her name? We’ll have to fight for landing space on standby?”

“She’s given away our port privileges.”

“Entirely?! How will we land on Draconis to sell our clothes?”

“We can’t,” he said grimly.

They were barred from the planet. They had just become an import company that couldn’t import anything.

“There is a narrow window until the transfer takes effect. Therefore, this launch will be our final one.” Jasper’s voice hardened with determination. “Let’s make it our best.”

Mal slumped in his seat.

This launch would be the end of the company and their final chance to reach number one.