Page 79 of My Ruthless Opponent

I walk briskly inside the park. The cool air makes me shiver.

I am wearing a thin blouse that doesn’t shield me from the chilly atmosphere. But the fabric of my trousers is thick and offers warmth to my trembling legs.

We are screwed. Our foolproof plan? It’s flopped before the game could even begin.

Archer is coming with us.

I was an idiot to underestimate him.

Archer changed the whole game. He knows we are lying. That’s why he pulled up the idea of a vacation. I should have known.

He just flipped the chessboard over just when Raleigh and I were winning.

“Hannah!” I hear Raleigh calling out my name.

Frowning, I pivot and find him marching straight toward me.

“What are you doing here?”

“You asked me to drive you here. I did. Do you think I am going to leave you here all by yourself at this hour of the night?”

Stripping off his leather jacket, Raleigh drapes it over my shoulders.

“I don’t need—”

“Just shut up and take it. It’s fucking cold out here.”

He helps me in the jacket and zips it up before I could protest any more.

The gesture takes me off guard. And to be honest, it touches my heart.

Raleigh can be sweet. But he needs to work on his vocabulary when it comes to talking to a woman.

The jacket almost drowns my frame.

Trees shadow over us. I take advantage of the dark and bury my nose in his jacket. Raleigh’s scent fills my nostrils.

Jesus, he smells so damn good, his intoxicating cologne just adding to his sensual scent.

It somehow eases the tension that was reaching its boiling point.

He surveys me in his jacket, his finger playing with my short strands. “So beautiful when you shut up. Why do you have to be a brat all the time?”

“What the fuck?” I slap his hand away.

“Huh?” He blinks, confusion shining in his eyes. He is looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Like he didn’t just call me beautiful. Then he wrecked the compliment by calling me a brat!

Maybe he didn’t mean to say it out loud. But he did. And now I am pissed.

“If I am a brat for merely refusing to wear your jacket then you’re a hellion who throws a tantrum whenever things don’t go his way.” I retort.

He narrows his eyes and takes a step forward. “Tantrum?”

“You intervened my story—which was going smoothly, by the way—and cooked up your own version just because you didn’t like it. Looks like a tantrum to me.” I arch a brow.

I came here to find peace and look what’s happening now. We are fighting again.

“And while we are on the topic. Don’t fucking kiss me!”

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