Am I really doing this, Isla asked herself ten minutes later as she stepped in to join Sean in the sled. It was a tight fit inside, requiring Isla to squeeze between his legs, her back plastered against his chest. The musher handed Sean their blanket, and he murmured his thanks as he whipped it over them.

“Warm enough?”

His breath tickled her ear, and Isla did her best not to shiver. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Scoundrel that he was, Sean only bit the lobe of her ear in response, and as her whole body quivered as their sled hit the trail, Isla was horribly certain that things were just going to get a lot, lot worse.

And it did.

Sean wasted no time dipping his fingers inside her jeans, and her heart raced as fast as the huskies pulling their sled. She fumbled for her phone as his fingers started to move towards the waistband of her underwear, and she peeked under the blanket to make sure she was pressing the correct speed dial button.

Her call connected a moment later, and she turned to look at Sean over her shoulder with a glower. It’s done, she mouthed darkly.

But this only made Sean smirk. “Don’t be mad, darlin’,” he purred.

“Who’s that?” A distinctly male voice coming from Isla’s phone demanded before she could answer Sean. “Where’s Isla?”

It’s started, Isla thought wildly.

Sean licked her ear, saying just loud enough for Jonathan to hear, “I’m gonna have you feelin’ as hot as a stolen tamale in no time, I promise.”

Isla couldn’t answer. His fingers had now found its way inside her panties, and the phone tumbled to her side as her fingers curled around the edges of the sled.

Sean started stroking her throbbing folds. “You’re already wet, sugar.”

Isla’s fingers tightened on the edges as his stroking fingers moved in perfect rhythm with the speed in which the dogs loped back to the hotel. She tried to keep silent as long as she could, but it was like fighting a losing battle. His touch was addictive and irresistible, spurring her desire to a feverish pitch.

“Want me to put my fingers inside of you?” Sean whispered into her ear.

A little cry escaped her, and it was the start of the end. His engorged manhood started rubbing her crotch, and she fell back weakly against his chest. He slid one finger inside of her, and Isla’s body jerked. His finger pushed swiftly and steadily inside of her, so exquisitely deep that she was certain the memory would forever be etched on her brain. The pleasure that came from it was agonizing, and when he started thrusting his finger in and out of her, her whole body felt like it was about to combust.

Oh. Dear. God.

A second finger soon followed, and her eyes squeezed shut.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

A third finger followed, and this time she felt completely exposed, her folds stretched wide open to accommodate the penetration of his fingers. It hurt, oh, it hurt – but it did so in such a terribly good way.

“Let go, darlin’.”

The low growl did it for her, and as his fingers thrust deep into her, Isla let out a tiny, choked gasp. Her body shattered, and more of those tiny, choked gasps came out, the kind of sound only a well-pleasured woman could make – and Jonathan Swanson heard every single one of them.

Isla was red-faced by the time the musher helped her out of the sled. Sean, on the other hand, was strutting like a damn peacock, with an air about him that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else but sexual satisfaction.

Orgasm in a dog-pulled sled, she pondered dazedly. Was that as good as joining the Mile High club? Or was it just proof that she was in way over her head with Sean? Even now, she had a hard time believing that she had let such a thing happen, and for what?

Tell you what, darlin’. I’ll admit to being jealous if you promise I can have my way with you whenever and wherever I want.

And she had actually said yes!

How stupid was that? And how shamefully, terrifyingly telling –

The sound of more paws stomping hard against the snow distracted Isla from her thoughts, and she glanced up in time to catch a glimpse of another dog-pulled sled drawing up next to them. Another couple was aboard it: the man tall, dark, and handsome while his companion was a petite, curvy brunette.

They also looked very familiar, and after combing through her memories, Isla finally remembered where she had last seen them. They were none other than billionaire Devon Montgomery and his wife Hilary. They had married a couple of months ago, with their private wedding still making the headlines of just about every newspaper in the country.

And the only reason she knew this, Isla recalled wryly, was because India hadn’t been able to stop talking about it. Her sister had thought the couple crazy for wanting such a simple ceremony. If I were in Hilary White’s shoes, India had said, I’d have rented the Buckingham Palace for the wedding.

To which Isla had only nodded, knowing there was no point telling her sister that the Buckingham Palace was not the type one could rent as a wedding venue.

“What are you doing here, Sean?” The woman’s voice – soft and delighted – drew Isla’s attention back to the couple, and she blinked in surprise when she saw the two smiling at an approaching Sean like they were all old friends.

“Sean’s not the type to come here alone,” her billionaire husband drawled, “so I’m assuming…” He turned around, and his blue eyes gleamed at the sight of Isla self-consciously tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Evening, ma’am.” Devon’s polite but friendly drawl perfectly masked his curiosity. His friend had never been the type to keep a woman company outside the bedroom, and he wondered what made this redhead different from the rest.

Sean swore in his mind as he caught sight of the uncertain look that Isla shot at him as she joined them. He had hoped to keep his disguise just a little longer, but with this he knew his time was up.

Isla gave a quick smile at the other couple as she came up to Sean’s side. “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery.”

Sean tried not to feel unreasonably irritated at how Isla greeted his friends by name. How the fuck was it possible she knew Devon but was clueless about his identity?

“Oh, and congratulations on your wedding, too,” Isla added. “I hope you won’t sue me for this, but I’m afraid I only recognize you because of the stolen paparazzi photos my sister showed me.”

“Depends on which tabloid you saw the photos on,” Devon answered without missing a beat. “Anything outside Texas and I’m equally afraid I’d have to sue.”

Worried that the other woman would take her husband seriously, Hilary hastily stepped in, saying, “Please don’t mind him. He makes jokes so rarely that he forgets he has to actually sound like he’s joking when he makes them.”

“It’s as Harry says, Isla.” Sean’s voice was easy. “But because he’s been my friend for as long as I can remember, I simply force myself to laugh at all his jokes.” Curling a possessive arm around Isla’s waist, he then made the introductions. “Isla, these are my friends, Devon and his wife Hilary.”

Isla tried to decipher Sean’s casual tone. Did that mean they were truly just friends or had Sean become Devon Montgomery’s friend in the course of working for the billionaire?

Ignoring Isla’s visible confusion, Sean went on with the introductions, saying, “Devon, Harry, it’s my honor to introduce you to my fiancée Isla Bouchard.”

To give his friends credit, neither of them blinked at his announcement but instead offered their felicitations immediately, with Devon shaking Sean’s hand while Hilary gave Isla a quick hug.

As they headed back to the hotel, the men deliberately fell a few steps behind, Sean having correctly interpreted Devon’s curious look.

“Since when did you have a fiancée?” Devon demanded as soon as the women were out of earshot.

“It’s a long story,” Sean muttered under his breath. “What the hell are you doing here, Devon?”

“We had to scrap our plans for Monaco. Something came up at one of Logan’s oil fields. He’s got to stay close by, so we decided to come up and meet here instead.” He shot his friend a curious look. “I could ask the same of you. What are you doing here?”

Color stained Sean’s high-boned cheeks. “I lied about having a business deal.”

“And your fiancée?” Devon pressed. “I’ve got all the time in the world for a long story.”

Sean didn’t answer. Should he at least come clean to Devon? His friend had been the first one to get himself a mail-order bride, anyway.

“She’s not from here, is she?” Devon murmured. “I’d have recognized her if she was.”

“Charlotte,” Sean said finally. “Our mutual friend was instrumental in how we met.”

Devon knew right away what that meant, and he stared at his friend in complete disbelief. Unlike him, Sean had always been active in the social scene, and his friend had certainly never been lacking for female company. A playboy like Sean shouldn’t have needed the services that Heart’s Match offered.

Or so he thought.

“What would you need Charlotte’s help for?”

In a voice kept carefully neutral, Sean told his friend about the major surgery his father was poised to take and how the older man had been maudlin and despondent of late. “You know how he’s been harping on me for years about getting married and having kids, so I thought I could let him live out his fantasy for a while.”

Devon shot his friend a sharp look. “What do you mean, for a while?”

“The marriage is a temporary arrangement.”

“And she agreed to this?” Silence was Devon’s only answer, and he slowly shook his head when he realized what that meant. “She doesn’t even know, does she?”