Page 102

I glance up to the full-height glass atrium. The expansive room has built-in shelves full of books. There’s a lounge area in the middle with two oversize crimson red velvet sofas facing each other with big plushy pillows done in ikat fabric. Beyond that, a grand staircase that splits left and right leads to the top floor of the library. To the right of the stairs, a grand piano sits proudly among more floor-to-ceiling shelves piled with colorful books. The mahogany woodwork is a piece of art. Despite the heavy wood, the room has a light and airy feel to it.

“How do you get up there?” I point to the balcony two levels up.

“There’s a spiral staircase to the right.” He ambles to the piano and sits.

“Do you play?” I walk a full circle around the beautiful piece.

“It’s been a while.” He furrows his brows as he studies the keys. Then, he begins to play a piano arrangement of Swan Lake.

In this moment, I consider the dichotomy that is Archer’s life. He’s torn by tragedy and the closure he never got. He keeps his father’s old study in complete chaos while he commissions a brand new one to erase all the bad. Archer has been carrying this heavy weight on his shoulders for so many years. It’s easy to see that it’s eating away at him. Maybe he’s right, and the best thing to do is to lay down his anger and hate. But I can’t be the one to ask him to do that. I can’t be the reason he leaves it all behind.

Would he be happy if he did? It’s so unfair that he has to live with this hole in his chest. That he can’t love me the way I need him to because his heart is full of shadows and pain. Would he ever be able to overcome it all and give himself to me?

I step around to face his back and bend down to kiss him.

His breath hitches, but he doesn’t stop playing. He’s so beautiful, the way he concentrates on the piece to hit every note just perfect. Archer never does anything halfway. It’s how he is in bed, focused and perfectly skilled. I release a breath and take in the melody his deft fingers produce. In my head, I picture my pas de deux, counting the turns to the cadence. It’s always over too quickly.

“Do you still want to see your father?” He lets his hands fall on his lap.

“Yes. You promised we would do that.” I let him pull me to stand between his legs.

“I can’t take you to where he’s staying. It has to be somewhere public.” He rubs his face over my sweater and my hardened nipples. “Somewhere where I can keep you safe.”

“Like where?” I ask.

“The theater. Do you think you’ll be up for that? To go back to your old world, your friends?” He watches me intently as if he is looking for any sign that I’m not strong enough to face what happened at the Performance Arts Centre.

“I can handle it.” I have no idea what I’m going to tell my friends or even Pierre, but I can’t stay in Archer’s mansion, hiding from the world. Sooner or later, I have to face the consequences of what I chose to do. “How many people know about the auction? Or that you had the winning bid?”

“As far as I know, only the men who were there that night.” He touches the back of his fingers to my cheek. “They’re not our concern. They don’t get to judge you, do you understand?”

I nod. “I just want to see Dad, and make sure he’s okay.”

“I find your devotion to your father…disconcerting.” He shakes his head. “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing.” I take in a deep breath and try not to think about what Dad must be thinking of me.

Maybe he expected me to somehow figure out how to serve Archer’s contract, while keeping my virginity intact. A shiver runs down my spine at the idea that Dad would guess how much I wanted to be with Archer, how I didn’t even fight him when he came to my room the day of the fundraiser. Or worst. How I had to beg him to take me. Dad would be appalled if he knew all those things about me, if he knew how I act when I’m with Archer.

You like being his little whore, don’t you? Your father said so. I couldn’t believe it.Hunter’s words ring painfully in my ears. Dad would never say that about me. He loves me. And he knows I would never do anything to bring him shame. Crap. Except everything about that night was shameful. I became the one thing he asked me not to be.

“Hey.” He places a finger under my chin to make me look at him. “It’s okay. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“He didn’t do anything to me. Why would you say that?” I meet his gaze.

“Because you keep forgetting that his serious lack of judgment is what put you in this situation.” He glances heavenward. “But enough about that. We have tickets to the ballet tomorrow night. You’ll get to see him and confirm he’s alive and well.”

“Thank you.” I throw my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.

“You’re welcome.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “But if you really want to thank me, I could use some help in the shower.” A smile pulls at his lips. “You can play with your pretty pussy while I get ready for my meeting.” He cups my sex.

“Hmm.” I lean into him as the warmth from his hand sends ribbons of adrenaline straight to my core. “I like it when you watch me.”

“Oh, Little Dove.” He applies more pressure, while sliding his other hand under my cashmere sweater. “I love watching you.”

He grips my hips and lifts me up on top of the piano, so I’m on display for him. I let my foot touch the keys while he takes in every inch of me. I’m addicted to the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters in the world. Before I realize what he intends to do, my jeans and underwear are on the floor, and he’s kissing my belly, my hip bone, and then my sex.

CHAPTER25