Page 18 of Fallen Legacy

“Then this is your chance to prove to me you mean what you say. That is, if you mean it when you say I’m your priority now?”

He frowns at me. “I told you from now on you’ll get nothing but honesty and the truth from me. I meant every word. You want info on Wilbur. I’ll get it for you, Scar.”

* * *

By the timewe make our descent and arrive back at the cabin, it’s almost four pm. I want to tell him I’ve had a miserable time, but I can’t. I enjoyed it, and I hate myself for it. I’m exhausted though. I don’t know why I’m so tired. Yes, we did a lot of walking, but I’m fit and healthy.

I throw myself down on the sofa when Archer announces he’ll take the first shower so that he can make a start on dinner. I cuddle up in amongst the pillows and rest my head. I could stay here forever and hide away from life and the harsh reality that waits for me back home. I’m fighting an internal war with myself over Archer. I hate him, but there is a part of me that misses him and wants his company. I can’t let him in again. Look where that got me last time.

* * *

“Scar,”a voice whispers softly and I open my eyes to find Archer leaning over me. “Hey,” he says softly, smiling at me like I’m his entire world. “I ran you a bubble bath.”

“You did?” I say surprised, rubbing my eyes and sitting up, which places me far too close to him. I scoot my bum back on the sofa to put some distance between us. He doesn’t miss it, and he quirks a brow.

“Go on up. I’ve put some clothes out on the bed for you. I’ll make a start on dinner. Are you okay with steak and chips?”

My belly rumbles in response. “Sounds good.” He walks away and I sit there for a second and stare after his retreating figure as I war with the feelings inside. Annoyed with myself, I head upstairs to find a welcoming warm bath, complete with bubbles. Vanilla and coconut fill the room, and he has put candles around the bath to complete the cosy ambience. Smooth fucker.

The bath is just what I need. I feel relaxed and reinvigorated. Maybe I am over the bug as I haven’t been sick at all today. When I return downstairs, I falter in my steps on the bottom step when I take in the room. He’s turned the lights down. and sultry, slow music plays on the sound system. He has set the table with candles and rose petals.

“Anyone would think this was a date instead of a kidnapping. You can’t romance someone you have forced here against their will you know?” I comment as I walk further into the room and lean my arms on the kitchen island.

“Like I said, if you hadn’t been so insistent on ignoring me, I wouldn’t have had to resort to such drastic measures.” He pours a glass of wine and holds it out to me.

“I’m not your possession, Archer.”

He cocks his head, fighting a smile, and that just gets my back up even more. “I don’t see you as my possession, Scar. I see you as my woman. My fiancée. The person I want at my side. I will always treat you with respect.”

I snicker. “Like you did when you lied to me all these months. Laughing at me because you knew a big secret that I didn’t.”

He stalks towards me, and I gulp. There’s nowhere to run. He has me cornered. I can cope with him when there is some space between us, but when he’s this close, it does things to my stupid heart and my libido.

“I’ll apologise every day if I need to. Now take the wine, go sit and relax. The food won’t be much longer.” He holds out the glass of wine again and I take it off him and begrudgingly take a seat on the sofa. I watch silently as he moves around the kitchen. He looks at ease in a kitchen and it makes me wonder who taught him to cook. I can’t see it being Edward or his dad, Phil. It must have been Jenny. Thank God he had that woman in his life to show him some love and affection. Is it sad that I find watching him cook is sexy? I mean, when he licks the sauce off the spoon and moans, I almost come right there. Why does he have to be so infuriatingly gorgeous? The guy oozes sex appeal.

“Scar, did you hear me? I said the food’s ready.”

I shake my head, pulling myself from my daydreaming, and he looks at me with a knowing smirk. Did I mention I hate him?

I silently drop into my seat at the table, and he brings my plate over. It looks delicious.

“It’s shepherd’s pie. I remember you told me your mum used to cook it for you every Sunday. It’s probably nowhere near as good as your mums.”

I swallow, saying nothing, as he takes his seat opposite me. He remembered when I told him about my mum’s cooking and my favourite meals that she used to make. It makes my stupid heart squeeze at how thoughtful he’s being. Sneaky fucker is bringing his A-game.

We eat in silence. It should be awkward, but it isn’t. In fact, it’s a comfortable silence. When we’re done, he takes my plate, and he clears the table. He offers me another glass of wine, but I don’t feel like another, so I ask for a coke, and he pours me one into a glass.

“Come on,” he says, holding out his hand. “I have something I want to show you?”

I stare at his open, waiting hand. I get to my feet and ignore his hand, tucking my hands behind my back. The fucker laughs. He heads upstairs and my eyes narrow in suspicion. If he heads for the bedroom, I’m going to knee him in the balls. Does he think he can just cook me food and I’ll roll over and open my legs for him? Think again.

He surprises me though, when he passes our bedroom and goes into one of the other bedrooms and out through some patio doors. I follow him out and we walk around the balcony that wraps itself the whole way around the first floor. Here, there is a set of steps up to the roof. Intrigued by where he’s taking me, I silently follow him. We come out onto the rooftop, and I stop in my steps. Wow, it is pretty up here. The night stars are so clear in the sky. I look over to an area that has cushions and a rug laid out on the floor. He doesn’t turn to see what my reaction is. He just sits down on to the rug and, looking up, he pats the space beside him.

“Come, take a seat. If you’re brave enough?” He smirks, knowing damn well that if he challenges me, I’ll rise to it. I take a seat beside him, ensuring I leave a decent space between us. He reaches for a telescope on a tripod in front of him. “I read you can see Jupiter and one of its moons tonight.” He leans up on his knees and put his eye to the scope, turning the focus. “Here, look.” He beckons me over. I can’t resist a look, so I shuffle up beside him and I place my eye to the lens. I’m amazed at the detail. You can actually see the different colours that give Jupiter its marble like appearance.

“That’s so amazing,” I gush, forgetting I hate him, and I give him a genuine smile. He smiles back at me, and my heart pounds in my chest.

We stay out there for over an hour, looking at different stars and Archer amazes me with his knowledge of our solar system. Who knew he was such an astronomy geek? He frowns when he tells me his mum bought him his first telescope and they would star gaze together in the back garden at their house. I feel somehow privileged he wanted to do something that he did with his mum with me.

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