Waking up with Archie’s strong arms around me easily earned this morning the title ‘the best of my life.’
If the content of his underwear was anything to go by, I no longer have to worry he still thinks I’m just a little girl.
No, those blazing black pupils eyed me like I was all woman. I just have to convince him it’s okay to mix a little work with pleasure.
I crave his attention like a drug addict craves her next hit. And I’m going to get my fix one way or another.
Something dangerous sparks inside me. Hope, fused with a lust so powerful, it has the potential to spontaneously blow at any second.
It would seem the reason none of these college boys have been able to hijack my heart over the years is because it’s been with Archie the whole time.
Even at the castle when he’d get up and leave the room the moment I’d enter, and when he rejected the offer to come here initially, and all the times he pretended he could barely look at me, somewhere deep down I held a torch for him that burnt so brightly, no other man could hold a candle to him.
Having him here in my bed only confirmed what I’ve been denying all these years.
I am deeply obsessed with Archie Mason.
And from the tender way he held me so protectively in his arms this morning, I’m certain he feels the same way, but a misplaced sense of honour forbids him to act on it.
Flashbacks of his lips on mine, pinning me to the sofa the other night, cause me to actually moan. ‘Sweetheart, believe me when I tell you I want it more than you do. I have for a long time.’
He has willpower made of iron.
But even iron melts at twelve hundred degrees.
Time to crank up the heat.
Bodyguard or not, he will be mine. He just needs a little persuasion.
Running water from the shower ceases suddenly and I bounce from the bed to take my turn, buzzing with my newfound purpose. To blow up the heat to over a thousand degrees.
Archie barely looksup when I enter the kitchen.
So, we’re back to this again.
No harm. I’m ready for him. The air is charged with sexual tension so taut, the tiniest spark could set the place on fire. It’s a battle to keep the smirk from my face.
I grab a banana from the fruit bowl and peel it seductively as I breeze over to the table where Archie’s mindlessly flicking through yesterday’s newspaper. I say mindlessly, furiously might be more accurate. One page flips after another, too quickly to read a headline, let alone anything smaller.
Resting my bum on the table next to him so his head is in line with my breasts, I take a bite from the banana. Archie glimpses up warily, but for the first time I’m confident in the knowledge it’s not because he can’t bear to look at me, but because he likes what he sees.
He sucks in a short sharp breath, raking over my wet-look leather leggings and fitted cashmere jumper, which stretches a little too tightly across my boobs to be decent. Libby calls it my wolf-in-sheep’s clothing outfit because it covers everywhere but clings tight enough to showcase every asset.
I take another bite of the banana. He shakes his head, but the side of his lip curls in a reluctant smirk.
‘Victoria.’ Another warning.
I fake nonchalance. ‘What? You’re safe, Archie, don’t worry. I’m not going to throw myself at you. You made your feelings quite clear this morning.’
He clasps his fingers together and lets out a low, rumbling chuckle. ‘What is this? Reverse psychology now? The oldest trick in the book.’
‘No, it’s not. It’s me respecting your wishes.’The wishes of your raging erection, at least.
‘So, what’s the plan for today? Your last day of freedom before it’s back to the hospital.’ Huge, clear eyes bore into mine. I had hoped they’d be drawn lower, but at least he’s ceased avoiding looking at me entirely.
‘I want to go to Princes Street to do some shopping.’ Libby’s evil plan lingers at the forefront of my mind.
Archie’s shoulders relax slightly. He probably envisioned me bringing him to a sex club and making him watch. I might have to if he doesn’t get the memo before then. Drastic urges call for drastic measures.
