They’re both self-made billionaires, men who have earned my respect, especially after negotiating with them to form this partnership. Karas’s expertise comes from the financial side, and Forge is a shipping magnate.

Jericho Forge owns the world’s largest commercial fleet, which is astounding considering he’s close to my age and supposedly lived on the streets at one point as a kid. Rumor has it that he joined the merchant marines and somehow worked his way up to captaining freighters traveling highly dangerous routes around Africa before he started his own fleet. To look at him, I can believe every single bit of it. He’s built like a longshoreman, but now instead of wearing a captain’s uniform, he wears thirty-thousand-dollar suits and looks almost civilized.

Almost. Something about Jericho Forge will always remind me of standing in the presence of an untamed beast, which is great when he’s on your side of the negotiating table.

“If you’d like to stay for tomorrow, we’d be more than happy to have you join us.”

Forge shakes his head, and his long black hair brushes his collar. “Weddings aren’t my thing, but I appreciate the offer. Best wishes to you and the future Mrs. Riscoff.”

Karas grins. “Holly is thrilled that it’s happening here. I’ve made her promise that she won’t corner Whitney to talk about buying her songs until your next visit, however.”

“I’m sure Whitney would be happy to talk to her anytime she wants. She’s been writing a lot, and I know she wants to hear another voice on the radio singing her words.”

“I think it’s safe to say that she definitely will,” Karas says.

The sound of a chopper interrupts our conversation, and we all look out the picture window of the conference room overlooking the ocean.

“That’s mine,” Forge says. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you both. Time for me to get out of here.”

Beyond the approaching chopper, at least a mile out from the glass beach below us, a mega yacht is moored, waiting for him. I suppose the rumors of him being more pirate than CEO could be true.

Forge rounds the table and extends a hand to me. “Congratulations, Riscoff. Enjoy the wedding.”

I shake it, and he moves on to Karas.

“Still smug as hell about staying single, aren’t you, Forge? Watch out, that just might be your downfall,” Karas tells him.

The shipping tycoon booms out a laugh, his broad shoulders shaking. “No woman will be my downfall.”

“Famous last words,” I say, and he gives me a chin jerk before he leaves the room.

Karas turns to me as soon as Forge is gone. “How long before he eats those words? I’m willing to put money on it.”

I consider the enigma of a man who strides toward the chopper beyond the window. “Inside of a year.”

“I say six months, and we’ll be watching him walk down the aisle,” Karas says with a smug grin of his own.

“I’ll take that bet.” We shake on it. “Now, my beautiful bride should be arriving any minute with her family, and I don’t want to miss the surprise on her face when she realizes where we’re getting married. I appreciate the hell out of you letting us use the beach again.”