‘To talk to you. To explain what went on in the meeting room. I was as shocked as you were.’
‘I’m not sure I was shocked,’ I retort a little nastily.
‘I think you’re wondering who she is and what I have to do with her.’
‘I’m wondering how you got yourself a promotion.’
‘Oh, I suppose I must be shagging my way to the top. Or not quite the top,’ he adds after a little consideration.
‘When I came here, it was on the understanding that I’d be fast-tracked to promotion.’
‘Ha. On the rocket track, more like.’ As I stand from the row of AstroTurf seating, he moves back, allowing me to make my way to the far wall. Something tells me I need to stand for this discussion. Maybe fold my arms.
‘Are you always willing to believe the worst in everyone, or is it just me?’
‘You made out you were hurt I didn’t call after the wedding. Was that true or was it a smokescreen? Fudging the fact to smooth things over?’’
He stalks towards me with the grace of big cat.
‘Do you know I’ve got a degree in economics from Oxford?’
‘Am I supposed to be impressed?’
‘Probably, the amount of student debt I have because of it. I’ve also got a master’s in strategic management.’
‘Is this your idea of sexy?’
‘Intelligence is always sexy, babe.’
‘Stop calling me that.’
‘I will. When you stop being babe. So basically, never. Not even when we’re old and wrinkly and grey.’
His proximity is maddening, the heat and scent of him heady and oh-so tempting. He’s just far too annoying and far too real.
‘Stop. Just stop it.’
‘Not until you tell me exactly what’s bothering you.’
‘Did you fuck her?’ the words are like bullets out of my mouth.
‘Why, Heather,’ he says, pressing his forearm on the wall above my head. ‘Are you jealous?’ My heart beats like a drum as I turn my head to avoid his lips, but his intent was only to graze my cheek anyway. ‘I didn’t,’ he murmurs, ‘but I could have. Does that turn you on?’
It shouldn’t. It doesn’t.Hedoes. His proximity. The fact that his throat is in kissing distance and the intent implied in his stance.You’re mine, it seems to say,and I’ll do to you what I like because I know you’ll like it, too.
And it’s true. Because I’ve dreamed about just this before he’d even ever kissed me.
‘I’m hurt that you’d rather believe the worst of me.’
‘Why? Aren’t you supposed to be our resident bad boy?’
‘Heather.’ The way he says my name is like an admonishment. ‘Stop. I’m not him. I would never hurt you.’
I freeze, everything in me turning to ice.
‘Don’t let that night define your life. You’re so much stronger than that. I know you see me for who I really am. You seeme.’
There’s such vehemence in his words. Such intensity. And I want to believe him, I really do. And when I think of all he is to me, all he’s done for me, I know he’s speaking the truth. Archer Powell is irritating and annoying and a whole lot of other things, but he’s also good.
