Undressed By His Arrogance

The Everest estate loomed ahead, all iron gates and manicured perfection, and Winn barely slowed as he pulled in. His jaw was clenched, pulse pounding. He didn’t care if she was in sweatpants, or just her underwear—hell, especially if she was just in her underwear. He was done waiting.

He was going to marry the damned, crazy, infuriating woman today if it killed him.

And as he cut the engine and stepped out of the car, storm energy radiating off him, there was no doubt in his mind: she was worth every delay, every heart-stopping moment, every ounce of chaos.

He stormed through the house. His annoyance crackled under his skin, fueled by adrenaline, and the unbearable knowledge that the woman he loved was once again doing things her way.

He reached her bedroom door and shoved it open without knocking.

Ivy stood before the mirror. The white dress was deceptively simple. It was elegant and yet promised ruin. Irene hovered to one side while Trish stood behind Ivy, eyes bright, hands clasped together.

Winn forgot every single reason he was furious.

She was breathtaking. Of course she was. She always was. It was deeply unfair, really. His anger faltered, slid sideways, and collapsed. He inhaled sharply and dragged his gaze away.

Focus, idiot, he mentally snapped at himself. You’re here to yell.

Ivy turned at the sound of the door, meeting his eyes. There it was—that sheepish smile.

"Do you have any idea how many hours I have been waiting for you to get your ass to the courthouse?" Winn snarled.

"I had to make sure we get it right this time," she said calmly.

"There were capable hands to handle it," he shot back. "I even sent Reese over."

She waved a dismissive hand and turned back to the mirror, completely unfazed. "Stop being a baby."

Lord, grant me the gift of patience. Or bail money. I’m going to strangle this woman. Instead, he asked, tightly, "Are you done?"

Trish glanced between them, clearly enjoying this far more than she should. "She just needs a touch of makeup and her shoes and we are good to go," she answered cheerfully.

Winn didn’t give her another second to argue. He closed the distance between them and scooped Ivy up bridal style, one arm under her knees, the other firm around her back. The sudden movement knocked a small, surprised laugh out of her.

"—you can do that in the car!" he barked, already turning toward the door.

"Oh my God, Winn," she groaned, rolling her eyes even as she instinctively curled closer to him.

He didn’t slow down.

She didn’t fight him. She could have—she always could—but she didn’t want to He liked it too much when they fought. But beneath it all lived the same truth it always had: she wanted to marry him. She wanted this life, this man. And if she had to bulldoze half the world to make sure no shadow ever hovered over them again, she would do it without apology.

The hallway echoed with hurried footsteps as Irene and Trish followed, arms full of makeup kits, and Ivy’s shoes dangling precariously from two fingers.

Outside, he placed Ivy carefully into the back seat.

"Sit," he ordered softly.

She smirked. "Bossy."

"Only today," he replied. "Tomorrow you can go back to running my life."

The women piled in. Winn shut the door and rounded the front, sliding into the driver’s seat.

He gripped the steering wheel, and took a breath. He wasn’t going to be satisfied until vows were spoken, papers signed, rings exchanged. Until the universe itself acknowledged that Ivy was his wife and had no further claim to test them.

Enough was enough.

He was done negotiating with fate.

"You guys good back there?" he asked, starting the engine.

"Yeah," Irene answered.

Winn glanced at the rearview mirror, his eyes finding Ivy’s immediately.

"Babe?" he asked. "You good?"

"Yeah," Ivy answered.

"Good," Winn said, eyes locked on the road, jaw set with that dangerous calm that always meant trouble. "Now hold on to your hats."

The engine roared as he floored it, the car surging forward. The estate gates blurred behind them, trees whipping past.

"Oh my God," Ivy yelped, grabbing the handle above the door. "You’re going to kill us before we get married!"

Winn tilted his head slightly, a wicked glint in his eyes. "At least we die together."

"You’re crazy! With your baby?"

"How am I the bad guy here?" he demanded. "You cannot put me through that again, you clueless, beautiful brat. You kept me waiting again!!!"

But even as he growled the words, his foot eased off the accelerator, the speed dropping just enough to say I hear you without admitting fault.

"Again?!" Ivy twisted around in the seat, nearly elbowing Trish in the face. "Did he just say again?!" She pointed accusingly at Winn, then at herself. "I was kidnapped! You piece of shit!"

Trish groaned, lipstick hovering uselessly mid-air. "If you don’t stop moving, I swear I’ll draw your mouth on your cheek."

"You’re so lucky you’re pregnant, darling. So goddamn lucky. Don’t worry. I can still get creative with what to do with your smart mouth."

She lifted her chin defiantly. "You know what?! Sleep with one eye open tonight, because I’m going to murder you on our wedding night!"

Winn glanced sideways, eyebrow lifting. "Is that the pregnancy hormone shit?" he asked, then looked at Irene. "I gotta deal with this for the next six months?!"

"Leave me out of this conversation," Irene said firmly.

"What does that mean?" she demanded. "Are you saying I am nagging?!"

"Yes!"

Irene gave Winn a slow, sarcastic thumbs-up. "Good move, dude. You’re gonna die tonight."

"Worth it."

"Okay! Enough!!!" Trish snapped, her patience officially dead and buried. "Will you both keep quiet so I can get her makeup done before I commit a felony?"

Ivy stayed still—miraculously—while Trish worked, muttering under her breath. The car hummed beneath them, the city creeping closer. Every few minutes, Winn caught Ivy’s eye in the rearview mirror.