Tilting his head back, he watches me, calm as ever. “Don’t be angry, Ivy. I’m not asking you to have sex with me in order for you to have this project. I’m not that much of an a**hole.”
God, his words sting. What sort of woman does he think I am? “Yeah, right. Next thing I know I’m flat on my back in your bed. No thank you. You’re not going to bribe me with career recognition either.” Bending, I grab my purse from the floor and sling it over my shoulder.
“I know the idea of staying with me doesn’t make you comfortable, but it’s best for the project considering the timeline. Besides, I’m not asking you to wait for me nak*d in my bed every night, though the idea is appealing.” The arrogance dripping from his voice makes me want to hit something. Preferably him. “Come on, I know you haven’t forgotten how easy it was between us that night, Ivy,” he murmurs, his voice low. Sexy.
Ugh.
His words enflame me, filling me with both lust and anger. I really hate that I still want him. “You’re a bastard,” I say through clenched teeth before I turn and head toward the door, desperate to escape the suddenly too warm, too confining restaurant.
I hear him call my name. Hear his chair scrape across the floor as he stands and starts to come after me. But I refuse to look back. Choose to ignore the hostess who’s calling after me that she still has my coat.
Pushing open the door, I step out into the dark night, deeply breathing the cool air. A flash goes off in my face, I swear I hear them call Archer’s name, and I head in the opposite direction, avoiding the paparazzi at all costs. How could I forget they follow Archer everywhere?
God. My head is spinning, and not just from the wine. The stupid photographer is just the tip of my overwhelming iceberg—that Archer demands I work for him. Going above my head to ensure I have no choice but to work for him is infuriating. Never mind that we had sex and he has to bring it up. Like he’s trying to use that night against me. I could blame it on the champagne I drank too much of, I suppose.
So freaking embarrassing.
Worse? I know I would’ve done it without the champagne. I can’t blame too much alcohol on my one night with Archer. I was completely sober.
But he’s an a**hole. A controlling, arrogant jerk who thinks I’m some sort of spineless, stupid girl. I wish I could refuse him but he’s effectively trapped me. And why didn’t Sharon talk to me about this? I can’t quite wrap my head around how he made all of this happen and so quickly.
He’s just that powerful, that influential to gain the things—or people—he wants with a simple phone call or snap of his fingers.
Not knowing which way to go, I turn right, heading blindly into the night. Cars pass by, I hear the loud rumble of a city bus as it speeds down the street, and I blink hard, my strides quick, my heart pumping like crazy. A shiver moves through me and I rub my arms with my hands, wishing I had my coat. It’s a total favorite; I love that jacket and I’m pissed I left it in the restaurant like an idiot.
God, he’s so distracting, it’s unfair. Why did he have to be so gorgeous? So freaking irresistible?
I increase my pace, furious at my thoughts. I can hear him right now, following behind me, his determined steps hitting the sidewalk, his huffs of aggravation.
Good. I’m irritating him. Glad to know the feeling is mutual. I need to get away from him.
Far, far away.
“Ivy.” The man is as tall as a god with legs as long as my entire body, meaning he easily catches up with me. His strong fingers clamp around my upper arm and he turns me so I face him. “Don’t run away from me.”
His words are spoken as a demand. “Let me go.” I struggle against his hold and he tightens his fingers, making it impossible to escape.
Archer pulls me in close, his body heat wrapping around me, his potent scent filling my head, making me weak. “Stop fighting this.”
I need my willpower to kick in. It has to or I’ll never survive him. “There’s no ‘this’ to fight. I’m not helping you.”
Archer looks downright offended at my words. “You don’t have a choice. I need you.”
“You don’t need me. I’m just an easy target.” The urge to punch him comes over me, stronger than ever. He has the advantage, knowing how easily I react to him. He’s not above using it against me fully either. “I hate that you’ve done this,” I murmur.
“Why?” His voice is deceptively soft. As persuasive as his fingers stroking my lower back, he’s trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Like I’m some sort of cat he can pet and stroke and ease under his spell. I was strong enough before to send him away, to walk away on my own. But am I strong enough now? Can I resist him again? I don’t know.
“You’ve already fooled me once.” Not really, but it sounds good. We fooled each other. “I shouldn’t let it happen again.”
Reaching out, I rest my hand on his chest, desperate to push him away. It’s as if my fingers have a mind of their own, though. I curl them into the soft, smooth fabric of his sweater, feeling the steely strength of him just beneath. A trembling sigh leaves me, and I keep my gaze locked on my hand, afraid to look at him. Afraid he’ll see everything I feel for him reflected in my eyes.
“I was fooling myself,” he finally says as he touches my cheek, slipping his fingers beneath my chin to tilt my head up. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I frown. Did I hear him right? Did Archer just admit he’d done something wrong? “Well, you did.”
Our gazes hold for long, quiet moments heavy with tension. I want to run. Break free of him once and for all and pretend this night never happened. Yet another part of me wants to stay. Wants to agree to what he’s asking me. Maybe then I can get one of two things.
Either I can convince Archer we’re truly meant to be. Or finally get him out of my system once and for all.
Archer
IVY’S FINGERS STILL grip my sweater, her innocent touch driving me f**king wild with wanting her. Holding her close, she fits against me perfectly, as if she were made for me. It was like this between us last time. The moment I pulled her into my arms, it was like we were two pieces of a puzzle that finally clicked together.
Half the reason I’d been scared shitless before. Still. No other woman feels this . . . right in my arms. And I haven’t even kissed her yet. It feels damn good just to hold her, which is ridiculous because I don’t need to just hold a woman.
I should have her sprawled nak*d and needy beneath me, screwing her brains out at this very moment. Forget emotion, forget everything but that driving need to consume. That’s how I usually operate.
Yet here I am. Acting like I’m in junior high and holding hands with a girl for the first time. Terrified and out of my mind with it.
“Is this just an excuse to get in my pants?” she finally asks, her voice wary. She’s so damn smart. “You wanting me to work for you in such close circumstances? Seems pretty desperate if you ask me.”
Slowly shaking my head, I let my thumb drift across her plump lower lip. Only a month since I last kissed her and I can vividly remember her taste. The sounds she makes. The way she wound her arms around my neck, her slender fingers threading through my hair. Her touch had felt so damn good. Too good.
Fuck. That’s exactly it. She’s too damn good for me. I need to remember this.
“You’re the only woman I can trust, Ivy,” I murmur, my heart lodging in my throat, making it hard to speak. “The only woman who understands me and my life and my career and what’s required. I know you won’t leak any information about the new location. And I know I can trust you to help me make the right decisions when it comes to designing the interiors.”
A trembling breath escapes her, the gust of air brushing against my thumb. My heart rate kicks up into a steady gallop and I inhale deeply. Trying my damnedest to act like she doesn’t affect me.
But holy shit, does she ever affect me.
“How can I understand you when I don’t even really know you, Archer? We’ve never been close.” Her gaze drops to my lips, lingering there. “Despite what . . . happened between us last time, there’s nothing between us.”
I feel like there’s too much between us, but I won’t go there now. “You’ve been a part of my life for a long time. You’ve known me since I was a teenager. Before I became . . . this.” The consummate playboy who can have any woman I want at any time. The workaholic hotelier who throws himself into his business until all he can do is live and breathe Hush. And now there’s Crave . . .
“Yeah, well my feelings still haven’t changed about you. I think you’re crazy.” She gasps when I lean in and brush my lips against the right corner of her mouth. That quick sample of her soft skin makes me ache for more. “Wh—why are you kissing me?”
“Because I need to.” I kiss the left corner, moving to capture her upper lip between both of mine, nibbling a little bit before I release her. “I need your help, Ivy. I can’t get the resort ready without you.”
“Stop it.” She’s pushing at my chest but I’m not going anywhere. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“You really think I don’t mean it when I say I need you?” I’m incredulous. I sure as hell need her. More than I care to admit.
I have to convince her back into my bed. At least one more time—possibly a few dozen times before I let her go back to her world and I go back to mine. She was there the night of Jeff and Cecily’s wedding reception. All that pent-up chemistry swirling between us, exploding the moment my lips first touched hers. She knows how combustible it can be between us.
So why is she full of so much doubt?
“You don’t need me. You just want me to bail you out of trouble. I’ve never mattered to you. Not really.” She tilts her head away from mine when I lean in for another kiss.
“Damn it, Ivy,” I start, but she cuts me off.
“You abandoned me, Archer.” Ivy’s voice is so soft, I can hardly hear her. “I know we agreed our hav**g s*x was a mistake, but the way you touched me in the suite at Hush right before Gage texted you, I was so confused. I thought you wanted . . . oh my God, I don’t know what you want. Not really. I don’t get you. Since I left you that afternoon, you haven’t called. I haven’t heard one peep out of you, not that I expected to.” She takes a step back, withdrawing from me completely, and my arms feel empty without her in them. “This back and forth between us is . . . difficult. I can’t risk getting close to you again only for us to end it before we really gave ourselves a chance. Not that there’s an “us” . . .” Her voice trails off and her cheeks turn pink. She probably didn’t mean to admit such a thing.
Her small admission gives me hope.
“I won’t touch you. Unless you want me to.” I smile but she doesn’t return the gesture. Heaving a big sigh, I cup her cheek, briefly sliding my fingers across her soft skin before I let my hand drop away from her. I can’t help but touch her, but if she doesn’t want me to, I won’t. “I promise.”