Page 46 of Reckless Kiss

“You have a roof over your head and a full stomach, don’t you?” his aunt snapped.

“Only if I live here. When we all chose to buy a house in Scotland to be near the rig, we had no help from the family.”

“Because your duty is to be here, on Turner Island. You’re a Turner, and so was your father, by extension, your mother. You need to find a wife, Archer, or else the Turner legacy will die with me.”

His gaze landed on her face. Aunt Cynthia was straight-backed, contrite in her outpouring of information and dictation. He didn’t like her tone. “It will come to me, won’t it? The Island, I mean.”

“Only if I will it that way.”

Archer stared at her in disbelief, not daring to question if what she was saying was true. He wouldn’t put it passed her to be vindictive enough to leave the whole island to charity.

He turned back to the jewellery box and looked at the rings. A delicate pearl set in a silver band was on the top row in the middle. It was simple and beautiful. He hoped Erica would like it. Archer picked up the ring and slid it onto his pinkie finger. He didn’t get it passed the second knuckle. He grimaced at the thought he might need to re-sized the ring. His ancestors were lean, slim-fingered. Erica was trim, but as evolution happened in each generation, humans increased in size.

“Who was the last person to wear this one?” Archer asked as he presented the ring to Aunt Cynthia.

She took it from him and turned it in the sunlight. “My mother, I think. She had a choker and earrings to match. I bet there is a bracelet too. Is that your choice? Not going for a big diamond?”

“No, I think my future wife will prefer this kind of ring.”

Archer was rewarded with an approving glance. He didn’t think he was meant to see it as it was gone as soon as it appeared. Bailey entered the room at that point,informing Aunt Cynthia that her dinner was served. Thankfully he would get out of swallowing Earl Grey tea and any more lectures from his aunt.

Getting up, his aunt straightened her twinset and patted the bottom of her bun. She turned and nodded to Bailey who left the room, then she turned to Archer, pinning him to the spot.

“Don’t forget, as soon as you’re ready to put the ring on her finger. I want to meet her first.”

“Yes, Aunt Cynthia,” he replied.

Archer had no such intention. He would not risk his aunt meeting Erica before he had the ring on her finger. He figured if she said yes to the fake proposal and put the ring on, she would be less likely to walk away after meeting his aunt.

That was his thinking. Whether it worked was another thing. No one voiced liking Cynthia Turner, but anyone who dared say it out loud would risk her wrath.

Chapter 24

Erica

Archer had gone to extreme lengths to help Erica train for synchronised swimming. He’d told her she needed to spend five hours a day training. It was the end of another week, and Erica was exhausted. On Monday, when she questioned him on his knowledge of the Olympic sport, he confessed he’d spent an entire day watching videos on the internet. He was an expert on the British Olympian team. When she’d strolled around the corner of the grand mansion to the swimming pool, she saw Archer walking towards her with a giant tree trunk above his head. It wasn’t the tree that caught her attention but his shirtless torso dripping with sweat. Erica stopped dead in her tracks as he reached the end of the row of logs and dropped it to the floor. It bounced once and stayed still with a resounding thud.

Archer still hadn’t noticed her as he clapped his hands together to get rid of the detritus on his hands. When he wiped them on his shorts, the material pulled tight acrosshis thighs, showing the muscles bunching just above his knees.

Her mouth watered.

“Eyes up here, honey,” he said.

She hadn’t noticed how long she was staring at his legs, but clearly, it was too long by the smirk she saw on his face.

“That’s a lot of logs, Archer. What are they for?” Erica tried for nonchalance, avoiding any conversation that she was hot for him, and he didn’t feel the same.

“They’re for today’s fitness session. Hurdling.”

“What now? Every day we do something different. Are you sure you’re not secretly an army PT instructor?”

Archer was right in front of her now. She could smell his shower gel or whatever he sprayed on himself in the morning. The clean smell of soap had never smelled so enticing. The heat he’d generated lugging the logs to the grounds must have intensified the aroma because she could happily lick him.

“No, nothing like that. If I’m going to do a job, then do it right, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m really grateful you’re giving up your mornings for me,” she said, looking around his body to the half dozen logs.

“It’s only a couple of hours. The rest of the time, you’re treading water or doing somersaults. So you don’t need me to help you do that part anymore.”

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