“My fiancée,” Jax added.
Her smile froze.
“Congratulations.” Rykker smiled, and she extracted her hand. “When’s the big day?”
“Soon.”
She called on the etiquette classes her mother had forced her to attend in order not to choke Jax and step over his dead body.
“Willow,” he went on, either oblivious or not giving a damn, “Rykker King. He chairs the Zetas membership committee, and he has a hand in a number of our philanthropic ventures. Fair warning, Rykker, my future bride thinks we should be doing much more than we are.”
“Is that correct?” He met her gaze with interest, forcing her to maintain her society smile. “Feel free to reach out to me. Now, if you’ll excuse, me, I’m meeting Judge Anderson for a drink.”
“Give Gideon my regards.”
“I will.” He gave her a slight bow. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Henderson.”
She remained where she was until he was out of earshot. “That was an underhanded move, Jax. And I don’t appreciate it.”
“Better he would think we’re having a tryst?”
She clenched her hands at her sides.
“I need to get you to bed. How early is your flight?”
Her thoughts screeched to a stop. “Uhm…”
He folded his arms and waited.
She flicked a frantic glance toward his right hand, remembering the way he’d scorched her buttocks.
“Willow?”
“It’s on Sunday.”
“You lied to me?” His voice dropped an octave and took her stomach with it.
“A little one. Tiny. Itty-bitty. You know, a polite one.”
“You may want to stop right there.”