Page 12 of The Rancher's Second-Choice Wife

Monty only grinned. "Told ya you'd be surprised."

The sailboats she had seen when going to the beach were around thirty feet in length, maybe fifty feet tops. The one in front of her was easily thrice as big, and all Poppy could do was wave weakly back at Heather when the other woman emerged from the side deck.

"Come on up," the other woman called out to her, and one of the crewmen assisted Poppy aboard.

"A sailboat, Heather? Seriously?"

"This is actually more like a smaller-sized yacht," the billionaire's secretary clarified.

"So not the point," Poppy groaned.

"I don't see what the problem is. I've checked your medical records, and you're not the type to get seasick—-"

"Still not the point. This is a sailboat."

"Cruise ships have their own beauty salons—-"

"Good for them, but I'm not trained to do this. And especially not in this weather—-"

"Today is the only free time he has—-" Heather raised her hand to stem Poppy's protest in advance. "I know you're going to think I'm exaggerating, but what you're doing is vital to Mr. Rossfield's sanity."

Poppy was about to roll her eyes when she realized that Heather was actually serious. "Great, just great. Now I'm even more nervous—-"

Heather laughed. "You've got this, Poppy."

"But what if—-"

"Relax, Ms. Cortez."

Poppy nearly tripped as she whirled around upon hearing the familiar voice, and her heart thudded against her chest when she saw the billionaire emerging from the lower deck.

"You may not trust yourself right now, but I do. You won't mess up, so stop worrying."

Poppy could only nod, having become tongue-tied at the sight of him. It was her first time to see the billionaire dressed in something other than a suit, but he was still beautiful and hot as ever in his white button-down shirt and pants.

"Ready if you are," the billionaire drawled, and Poppy belatedly hurried after him.

It took Poppy longer than usual to get her makeshift workstation in order, but the billionaire didn't betray any sign of impatience while waiting.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Rossfield," she stammered. "You can take your seat now."

A huge wave crashed against the hull as she turned towards him, and her lips parted in silent horror when she realized she was about to lose her balance.

No, no, no!

The next thing she knew, she was already on the billionaire's lap, her breasts crushed against his chest.

Nooooooo!

Poppy jumped to her feet as soon as she felt her nipples pucker into life.

"Are you alright?"

Poppy didn't even think of what she was doing. The moment she saw the billionaire was about to turn to look at her, she grabbed hold of his head and forced him to look back.

No way would she let him look at her while her nipples were still fully erect.

Heather did her best not to laugh as she watched things go from bad to worst for Poppy. But when her curious gaze turned to Valerian, and she saw the taut expression that darkened his features—-

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