Page 14 of Fallen Legacy

He leans his elbows on the table and looks me straight in the eye. “I promise you here and now, Scar; I will be nothing but truthful with you. I didn’t know Wilbur visited you at school. I haven’t spoke to him since the evening of the dinner party.”

He doesn’t look like he’s bluffing, but then again, this is the guy who played me before, so I can’t make a judgement based on the way he looks at me.

“Yes, dear old granddad came to see me at school and told me what would happen if I don’t return home and agree to our engagement. He has me over a barrel. He has a file full of incriminating photos of me engaged in illegal activities that he says he will hand over to the police.” I take a sip of my wine and lean back in my chair, studying his face for a reaction. “Oh, but that isn’t the best bit. If I don’t return and put your ring on my finger, he’s going to call social services and relinquish my brother back into care.”

“Fuck,” Archer says, shaking his head. “I had no idea, Scarlet. What are you going to do?”

I snort in response. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure Kit remains at HBA and gets the education that will give him the best opportunities in life. It means I’m going to let you put an obnoxious rock on my finger and I’ll smile and pose for the photographs and look like the doting fiancée.”

He’s silent, watching me as I watch him. I’m wondering what is going through that lying, scheming head of his. He stands to his feet and collects both our empty plates, and he comes back over with the bottle of wine. Taking my glass from my hand, he tops it up.

“I’m not going to lie and say I’m sorry,” he admits as he takes his seat again and rubs his fingers up and down the stem of his glass. “I want you, Scar. I want to own your body and soul.”

I shake my head and snicker at him. “Oh, yes, that’s right, so that you can break me and get revenge for your mum.”

“That was my plan. I’ve admitted that. Now, I’m re-thinking things.”

I knock back my drink and the cool wine slides down my throat, helping to drown out the torrent of feelings he elicits from me when he’s nearby. “Don’t re-think it. Do it. Give me your worst, because I am going to make you regret ever agreeing to this farce of a marriage. You’ll rue the day you ever put a ring on my finger, Archer. I’ll make sure of that.”

He smiles in response. “We’ll see.” He looks at his watch and, yawning, gets to his feet and stretches, showing off that muscled physique.

“Come on, let’s watch a movie.”

I chuckle at his ludicrous suggestion. “You honestly think I’m going to play nice? That I am going to sit here with you and watch a movie! Like you haven’t betrayed my trust, used me, and lied to me?” I stand up and glare over the top of my glass as I neck back the last bit of wine. “I’m going to bed.”

“Suit yourself,” he replies with an eye roll and a shrug of his shoulders, strolling over to the sofa. Archer throws himself down and picks up the remote turning his attention to the television.

I expected him to insist, to manhandle me and pin me down on the sofa and make me watch a movie with him. I did not expect him to shrug his shoulders and stroll away. Scowling at the back of his head, I stomp past him and up the stairs. I am seething. I pace up and down the room. There’s no tv up here so I can’t watch anything, nor are there any books and the fucker has taken my phone off me too. Realising there really is nothing for me to do but go to bed, I pull back the covers and angrily climb under the covers and close my eyes. One problem. I’m not tired. I’m wide awake and I’m hopping mad at him.

I lie staring at the ceiling for around twenty minutes. I pull back the covers and stomp to the bathroom. A bath will help me calm down. I run myself a bath and step into the tub. The warm soapy water feels like heaven. I rest my head against the lip of the tub and close my eyes and try to think calm, happy thoughts. When the water cools and my hands shrivel, I climb out. I glance at the clock; it’s still only eight in the evening. What the hell am I supposed to do for the next couple of hours? I can’t lie here and do nothing!

Fifteen minutes later, I cave and begrudgingly head downstairs. Archer doesn’t react when I enter the room. I take a seat at the opposite end of the sofa from him. He keeps his eyes trained on the television the whole time. He’s watching one of the marvel movies. I love the marvel films. They’re my favourite. We sit in silence for the rest of the movie and when it ends, Archer turns the power off with the remote. Ignoring me, he strolls through to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water and then walks past me and up the stairs. He doesn’t look my way or speak to me. It’s as if I’m not in the room. I curse under my breath when I realise he has taken the tv remote with him so I can’t even sit down here and watch more tv. I climb the stairs after him, ready to call him out, but I falter in my steps when I see him undressing in the bedroom.

“We’re not sleeping in the same room,” I tell him, folding my arms across my chest and popping my hip out.

Archer side-glances at me as he pulls back the duvet, and he climbs into bed. “This is the only room with a bed in it.”

I glower at him. He has to be lying. Pivoting on my heels, I stride across the hallway and open the door opposite. No bed. Every room I go in is the same. They all have wardrobes and drawers, but there is not one bed in any of them. Scowling, I storm back into the bedroom.

“Did you seriously have all the beds removed before we got here?”

He’s sitting up in the bed, leaning against the headboard with his hands cupped behind his head. He fights a smirk. “I did. You know me, Scar. I plan every detail in advance.”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” I tell him defiantly.

“Good luck with that.” He shrugs. “There are no blankets for you to use. This is the only bedding in the house.”

I bite at the inside of my mouth, silently fuming. I stalk over to the bed and grab at the duvet, intending to pull it off him, but he grabs at it and stops me from taking it.

“Give it to me, Savage,” I hiss as I yank with all my strength on the duvet.

“No,” he insists, keeping a firm grip on the bedding. “Just get in the fucking bed, Scarlet. We both know your nightmares are back.”

I freeze and stop tugging on the duvet. “How do you know that?”

He sighs and offers me a sad smile. “Because I know you. I know that every night I held you in my arms, the nightmares never came. That in your sleep, your body and mind knew it could trust me to keep you safe.”

“I hate you,” I seethe, and I tug on the duvet, determined to get it off him. He tugs back, yanking sharply, and before I know it, I’m pinned under him on the bed. My chest rises and falls fast as I try to control my anger and thrill I feel at being in such proximity to him.

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