Page 81 of Ruthless Legacy

I reel from this piece of information. I had always presumed that they had punished him because he’d failed to bow down to them or he had failed to do a task they set him. It never occurred to me that maybe he was getting what he deserved.

“Have I rendered you speechless, Little Red?” Seb grins down at me.

“I think I need a drink,” I announce, releasing my arms from around Seb’s neck. I head towards the nearest waiter and grab a glass of champers on my way out of the room. I make my way along the hallway until I find a cosy-looking library. I escape inside, closing the door behind me. I make a beeline for the comfortable old sofa by the fire and slip my heels off, then tuck my feet under me as I sit down and, leaning my head back against the cushions, knock back the champagne. I probably shouldn’t have any more tonight. I’m likely to say or do something I don’t think Wilbur would approve of. Seb’s revelation about Robinson has left me feeling confused. I’d made assumptions that night, just as they’d made assumptions about me. I couldn’t think of Archer as someone who had a moral compass, because that would be dangerous for my heart.

“So, this is where you’re hiding out?”

I yelp and nearly drop the glass in my hand when I hear his voice. I open my eyes to find the devil himself standing before me, his hands in his pocket. He studies me like I’m his favourite piece of artwork.

“Go away Archer. I’m not in the mood for this drama between us tonight.”

He bends down and places his hand under the split in my dress. “I don’t want any drama tonight either, Scarlet. I just want to touch you. To feel your skin against my fingers.”

“No, Archer,” I sigh, trying to push his hand away. “I told you; we’re not doing this anymore. You hate me, remember, and I don’t particularly like you.”

He smirks. The self-assured fucker smirks at me.

“We both know that now we’ve started, we can’t stop this. No matter what that head of yours is telling you. Your body is telling you a whole different thing.” His hand moves up my right leg, causing goosebumps as he progresses past my knee and up to my thigh. “You see. I can’t let you go now, Scarlet. I’ll ruin you for any other guy. No one else can give you what you need.”

“And what is it you think I need?” I snipe, trying to keep my breathing steady even as he pushes my dress up my thighs and exposes my lace thong.

He leans in and drops barely there kisses up my right thigh and then my left, and I shiver in anticipation. “You need someone to take control, so that you can just breathe and feel.”

He hooks a finger around the top of my thong, and, with his other hand, he rips them apart in one quick tug. Smiling, he pops them in his jacket pocket.

“Did you have to tear them?” I hiss as he begins a tortuous trail with his finger up my leg again. He stands to his feet but remains leaning over me, his face level with mine, and I fight the urge to reach out and place my lips against his.

“Time to go face the wolves, Scarlet.” He offers out his hand.

I glare up at him. Seriously? He steals my underwear, kisses my skin and makes me want things and just like that, he turns it off.

“What’s the matter? I thought you said no?”

“I did say no.” I deepen my scowl. He is tying me up in knots.

“So, let’s go. Besides, Wilbur sent me to find you, and he insisted that you and I dance together.”

I huff and fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t want to dance with you.”

He tilts his head, still holding his hand out for me to take. “Yes, you do Scarlet. You hate it, but you want me.”

I release a long, frustrated breath and place my hand in his. “One dance and that’s it.”

“Why are people staring?” I ask him as he leads me on to the dancefloor and places a possessive hand at my waist.

“Because every man in this room wants it to be his hands on you, and every woman here wants to be the one in my arms.”

“Wow, your arrogance knows no bounds, Archer.”

“I never pretended to be anything I’m not,” he replies as he tugs me closer, so our bodies are touching everywhere possible as the slow seductive beat of the music surrounds us.

I glance around the room as we dance and I spot Wilbur and Archer’s grandfather standing together, watching us with a great sense of interest on their faces.

“Did I tell you? The café rang me earlier, and I had an interview over the phone. I got the job.”

Archer gives me a half-smile. “Congratulations. I’ve no idea why you want to waste hours of your free time waiting on people, though.”

“I want to earn my own money. Besides, I’ve always had a weekend job.”

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