My heart beats faster, thinking that he is here for me.
I wonder if he could see my pain.
I wonder if he can sense how hurt I am and how much I missed him.
Can he?
He holds his hand out, still drilling holes in my face with his intense gaze, his jaw set.
My jaw drops to the freaking floor when he holds out his hand for me in front of everyone. He is really here for me.
But what is he doing?
His employees are gaping at him but he pays them no attention.
His brow dips when I don’t move, eyes darkening. “Baby.” My heart skips a beat when he says that in his deep voice. Shivers overtake me by that single word which is uttered with barely controlled fury.
My pussy begins to throb. It’s infuriating how my body reacts when he’s around. It doesn’t matter that he’s furious, the ache between my legs is proof of my insatiable need for him.
Someone slings my bag over my shoulder as I take a shaky step forward and place my hand in his. My breath hitches when he closes his fingers around me firmly and then drags me out of the mansion, leaving everyone around us in stunned silence.
“Can you please slow down?” I wince as I try to keep up with his brisk stride.
The rubbing of my heels against my irritated skin is absolutely awful but I don’t stop because he has my wrist in a death grip. And every time I slow down, he tightens it.
When I wince again, he stops and then turns. He says nothing, just bends and lifts me over his shoulder, making me yelp.
“Archer! Put me down!” I gasp, my hair almost touching the ground. What is wrong with him?
He keeps walking, ignoring my protests. He’s giving me the silent treatment again!
He stops when he gets to his Jaguar. I say nothing when he opens the passenger door of his car and puts me inside gently and fastens my seatbelt. His actions are a contrast to the rage I feel emanating from him.
I love that he’s so gentle with me regardless of his temper. He makes me believe that he is not like other men. Men like my father.
I reach up and cup his tensed jaw. “Archer.”
His eyes fall shut. My heart melts when he leans into my touch ever so slightly, the little frown between his brows appearing. I bring my free hand up and touch the crease, attempting to erase his frown.
That breaks the moment because Archer pulls away and shuts the door. My heart drops. I pinch my eyes close, the hurt spreading.
Why does he retreat back to his shell whenever he catches himself being vulnerable?
I sit motionless as he rounds the car and slides into the driver’s seat.
The entire ride is spent in silence. I didn’t attempt to talk and Archer didn’t bother as usual.
I face the window, still raw by the way he pulled back from my touch.
When the car halts, I waste no time in getting out and striding inside the building.
I all but run across the lobby with Archer hot on my heels. When I find the waiting elevator, I rush to step in but he catches me by the waist and pulls me toward him in one swift move.
My back crashes against his chest. He bends his head, his lips brushing against my ear. “You think I’ll let you slip away that easy?”
His low, deep tenor makes me shudder, then blush. But it also angers me.
“Let go of me.”