Page 59 of Ruthless Legacy

I frown as I watch a guy go round the side of the house with a ladder over his shoulder. “Great. No sneaking out for me anymore.”

“What do you need to sneak out for, anyway?” Archer asks me with a frown.

I lean over the central console in his car, leaving my face a hair’s breadth away from his, and I wink. “Wouldn’t you like to know Archer Savage?”

Before I have a chance to pull away, he grips the back of my neck and holds me there, half balanced over the gear stick. “You can’t take this lightly, Scarlet. Someone is out for you. Promise me you won’t put yourself in harm’s way.”

“Why do you care?” I ask him. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my mouth.

“You’re an Ace and no one messes with one of us,” he explains, his eyes not moving from mine. He runs his thumb across my bottom lip. “I’d like to take you upstairs and fuck you senseless right now, but I need to take this fucked up gift down to the station.”

“Oh,” I reply, gulping and my cheeks heating. He smirks at my reaction.

“Have I rendered you speechless, Scarlet? That’s a first.”

I dart my eyes to outside checking that there is no one around and then I climb over the central console and drop myself onto his lap. He says nothing, he just waits as if he’s curious to see what I’ll do next. I unzip the zipper on his school trousers and push my hand inside.

“Scarlet,” he warns me, his voice husky and unstable. “There are cameras everywhere. You’ll give Wilbur a heart attack.”

I sigh, pulling my hand from his trousers, realising he has a point, but as I go to climb off him, but he holds my head in place with his hands and leans in and kisses me. Making my toes curl and my body want more.

“Later,” he promises me. “Let Edith fuss over you. I’ll be back shortly.”

Flushed and unsatisfied, I climb off his lap and grab my schoolbag, I climb out of the car and watch as he drives back down the drive. Later couldn’t come quick enough.

When I walk into the house, I falter in my steps when I come face to face with my grandfather. He’s dressed in an expensive navy suit, looking like he’s just come out of a business meeting, and I have to wonder if he dresses like this every day.

“Eliza,” he greets me with a slight curve in his mouth. “How are you?”

“I’m okay, all things considered,” I reply, fidgeting with the strap of my bag. I can’t help but feel nervous under his scrutiny.

“Good,” he replies, offering me a tight smile. “We have a charity function coming up soon. Alexis’s designer friend will call by later this evening with some dresses for you both to try.”

“Oh, I was planning on hanging out with Archer this evening,”

His approval is apparent from his expression. “I’m pleased to see you are spending time with Archer. He would be a good match for you.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “We’re just friends. I’m a little young for finding my match.”

He doesn’t laugh along with me. He just gives me that tight smile again, the one that makes me wonder if he has ever really smiled. “The designer won’t take up more than an hour of your time. That should leave you plenty of time to spend with your friend.”

The way he says friend makes me think he doesn’t believe for one second that Archer and I are friends.

“Oh, and Eliza, I’ve asked my lawyer to get your surname legally changed to your true family name. I can’t have my heirs not using the Alderman name.”

I want to tell him I have a surname and that it is the one my parents chose for me and Kit, but then I remember that if it wasn’t for him, we would still be in foster care. We’d still be wondering each day if they would move us again and I can’t let my brother go back to that life. “Of course.” I turn on my heels and walk away from him at a measured pace when really, I want to run from there as quick as I can.

When I come down for dinner, I falter in my steps when I see Archer is here. He’s standing over by the window, a drink in his hand, chatting with my grandfather like they are old friends. I guess in some ways they are. I am the stranger here.

“Ah, here she is. My beautiful granddaughter,” Wilbur says when he spots me loitering in the doorway. “Archer was just telling me about your plans for October half-term.”

“Plans?” I repeat as a maid offers me a glass of non-alcoholic squash. It grates on me that Archer gets alcohol, but I get juice. Sexism is alive and well in Hawk Bay.

“The ski-trip. Edward has a beautiful chalet with a magnificent view of the slopes.”

“Ah, the ski-trip,” I say, making out as if I know what the hell he’s talking about. “Yeah. Can’t wait, though I’ve never been skiing before, so it could be an interesting experience.”

Wilbur pats Archer on his shoulder. “I’m sure Archer here will teach you and guide you.”

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