Page 17 of Empire of Ache & Ruin

“Excellent.” He dips his head.

“Jesus, Archer. Get out of there before your luck truly runs out,” Fisher says.

“See you soon, Senator.” I shake his hand and head for the door.

As I cross the foyer, my heartbeat settles into an even rhythm. Fisher calls me the lucky one. Some luck. My one obsession turns out to be deeply intertwined with my only enemy. Of all the times I dreamed of this moment, to finally come face to face with the Senator, I never once considered I would fall prey to his daughter’s charms. But that ends tonight. Whatever I feel when she’s near doesn’t matter. Starting tomorrow I will set in motion my plan to bury the Senator. I don’t care if in the process I have to get in bed with the Italian mob and forget about Paloma for good.

Paloma is nothing more than a means to the Senator’s end.

CHAPTER5

LIKE A MOTH TO THE FLAME

Paloma

Why do I let him do these things to me? I touch my fingers to my lips with one hand and my neck with the other. He has no right to manhandle me this way. And to make matters worse, he’s my brother’s best friend from Oxford. Did he know who I was last week when he agreed to pay for a night with me?

I fall back on my heels in the middle of the room where he left me. How embarrassing. For a moment when Chuck first introduced us, I thought for sure Archer would turn me in. Dad would be so disappointed if he found out what I did to Archer. Not to mention, Chuck would be mortified that I asked his friend for money. But what was I supposed to do? Let those scary men beat up my brother again?

Chuck is the act-now-ask-questions-later kind of guy. And yeah, his serious lack of judgment gets him in trouble at least once a week, but he’s my brother and I love him. When Archer approached me with a super expensive bottle of whiskey, I figured he wouldn’t miss a few thousand dollars. I saw the opportunity, and I took it.

The frigid air blowing in through the French doors brushes my back. I wait for the cold to seep through my chemise and cool every inch where Archer touched me. But it doesn’t help. I feel him everywhere. Every time I picture his perfect face, the way he looks at me like I’m someone important, I’m overwhelmed by what I can only describe as desire. Luckily, after tonight, I won’t have to see him ever again. Especially after Chuck goes on another one of his long trips.

I pull on the string of the bustier and find that Archer had already loosened them up for me. When I came up the stairs earlier, it was because I couldn’t breathe, and I needed to get out of this dress. I hate feeling trapped. It’s why I keep my balcony doors open even when it’s freezing outside.

Pushing the bustier down to my hips, I rise to my feet and then step out of it. I take a few minutes to collect the dress and crinoline and put them on the vanity chair. Sole will collect them tomorrow when she comes in to make the room. I go around the suite and quickly tidy up before I climb into bed. For some reason, I can’t fathom removing the chemise I wore under the brocade dress. His scent is still on it.

I shake my head to clear it and stare at the ceiling straight ahead. If I close my eyes, if I fall asleep, I know I will see him again. And I don’t want to. Eventually, I do doze off, and his face comes into full view. He’s in the hotel bar again. Danger oozes from him, and I’m drawn to it, to him. And then he notices me, and I’m sure that I won’t be able to say no to whatever he proposes.

His lips brush that sensitive spot behind my ear. And before I know it, we’re in his hotel suite and a stage at the same time where a familiar melody plays. I’m the Swan Queen, and he’s my prince. I don’t care that my brother needs money. I don’t care that, in a moment of insanity, I chose Archer as my mark. I don’t care about Pierre’s stupid assignment to seduce a stranger.

Archer turns me around and sucks on the cord of my neck. His hand cups my sex, and I surrender to him. His free hand fondles my breast while he kisses me. “Yes,” I repeat over and over again. I need this release. He reaches inside my panties and buries his fingers in my folds.

“Don’t leave.” My hand finds his as he increases the pressure there and draws circles around my clit.

He holds me tight, and then, I fall apart as a surge of pleasure powers through me. I can’t contain it. I’m grounded and floating. And my whole body feels alive with this heat growing inside me.Oh God, it’s starting again.The music around us reaches its crescendo as I orgasm, harder this time. My fingers are wet and warm, but I don’t stop. I keep going until every last bit of my release is spent. I turn on my side and press my face into my pillow.

“Don’t run,” he whispers.

My eyes fly open as I pant to catch my breath. What the hell? I sit up and look around the dark bedroom. What is wrong with me? I can’t be having wet dreams about some stranger. I suppose anything is better than my usual nightmares. Waking up to his voice is a thousand times better than waking up screaming.

I glance down at my body. At some point, I kicked off the covers and stripped off my chemise. I was lucky Dad was busy with the party downstairs and didn’t have time to check on me before he retired for the night. Looking around the room, I realize Sole came in at some point to start a fire in the fireplace and close the French doors. Pressing a hand to my forehead, I squeeze one breast and then the other to ease the tingling sensation that lingers there. Instantly, I imagine Archer’s mouth on the tight peak.

“No.” I throw my legs over the side of the bed.

No more thinking about Archer. And definitely, no more dreaming about him. He’s gone now. My feet touch the cold hardwood floors, and that’s the jolt I need to wake up and put away my silly thoughts.

I hop in the shower and immediately regret not doing this last night. My hair reeks of day-old hair spray and smoke. The makeup on my face feels dry and crusty. I stay under the warm spray, absently shampooing my hair and washing my face. Today was an important day, but somehow, I can’t get myself to be excited for it. For years, the goal has been to make Swan Queen. That dream is finally a reality. So why am I dragging my feet this morning? His intense blue eyes appear in my mind’s eye before I can stop it.

“Enough,” I shut off the water and step out.

Running a paddle brush through my hair, I glance up at the mirror. My face is blotchy from the good scrub I gave it. Once my hair is up in a tight bun, I moisturize and apply sunscreen. No sense in putting on makeup if I’m going to spend the whole day at the Performance Arts Centre.

When I’m dressed in a black leotard, tights and a rehearsal skirt, I make my way to the dining room to meet Dad for breakfast. He’s usually up at the crack of dawn, same as me.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” he greets me from the head of the table, then stops to look at me. “You look stunning. So much like your mother.”

“Good morning. And thank you.” I kiss his cheek on my way to the buffet set up on the opposite end of the room. “It’s not that late,” I say as I eye the breakfast options of fruit, yogurt, bagels, smoked salmon, and hard-boiled eggs.

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