Protecting Lanie (Club Tales #6)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

LANIE

L anie’s heart pounded as she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror in the walk-in closet of the room Archer had given her. It was off the luxurious bath attached to her room. She sure as hell didn’t look like a victim. Not tonight.

The deep emerald-green dress clung to her curves, the silky material pooling at her ankles. The plunging neckline left little to the imagination, the open back daring in a way she’d never allowed herself before. A delicate mask, edged in black lace, concealed the upper half of her face, adding a touch of mystery.

This was her choice. She was done hiding. The click of the door opening behind her sent a shiver down her spine. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Archer. The air changed when he entered a room—thicker, charged with something that made her stomach flip in the most delicious way.

He didn’t speak right away. He didn’t have to. She felt his gaze trailing over her exposed skin, dark and unrelenting.

Lanie inhaled deeply, turning to face him. "Well?"

Archer stood just inside the doorway, dressed in a sleek black suit that fit his powerful frame perfectly. His mask was simple —black, edged with silver—but it did nothing to soften the raw dominance radiating from him.

His jaw was tight, his blue eyes burning as he raked his gaze over her.

"Change," he ordered.

Lanie’s lips parted. "Excuse me?"

Archer closed the distance between them in three slow steps, his sheer presence making her pulse skitter. "That dress is too revealing."

She arched a brow, tilting her chin. "I like this dress. Reyna got it for me."

Archer’s fingers curled under her chin, lifting it higher. "I don’t care."

Heat coiled low in her belly. She wanted to fight him on this. Wanted to tell him he had no right to dictate what she wore.

But the way he was looking at her? Possessive. Furious. Like he was one breath away from throwing her over his shoulder and locking her away where no one else could see her. Heat coiled in her lower regions. There was a part of Archer that made everything go all gooey inside. It made her stomach tighten in ways she didn’t want to analyze.

Lanie swallowed hard, forcing herself to hold his gaze. "I’m going to this party, Archer. With or without you."

His grip tightened slightly. "You think I’m going to let you walk into a den of predators dressed like that, looking like this?"

"I think you don’t own me, and that the rest of the team thought this was the best way to draw Vinnie out."

Archer exhaled sharply through his nose, his nostrils flaring. For a long moment, they stood locked in a silent battle. Then, suddenly, he smiled. Slow. Dark. Dangerous. Lanie’s stomach dropped.

"You want to play, little one?" Archer murmured. "Fine. But you’ll play by my rules."

Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the shadows of the room’s alcove.

The world tilted as she found herself pressed up against the wall, her back against the cool, polished wooden panel, Archer’s heat surrounding her.

Her breath caught.

"Let me be very clear," Archer said, his voice a deep growl. "If you walk into that party looking like this, every man there will want you."

Lanie’s breath came faster, her skin prickling with awareness.

"And that," Archer murmured, brushing his lips over the shell of her ear, "is a problem . "

Lanie’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. "You can’t scare me into staying behind."

Archer’s hand skimmed down her side, slow, deliberate. "No, but I can remind you who you belong to."

Her pulse pounded. She should fight him on this. Should tell him she didn’t belong to anyone. But the way he was touching her? The way he was speaking to her? Made her want to belong to him—not just for this op, but forever. She wanted to hear him say it again.

Archer reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk ribbon.

Lanie’s stomach flipped.

"Hands up," he ordered.

Her breath hitched. "What?"

Archer’s gaze locked onto hers. "Now."

A thrill ran through her. Slowly, she lifted her hands, presenting them to him as requested—no, scratch that, ordered..

Archer took his time, wrapping the silk around her wrists, knotting it with precise, practiced skill. Not too tight. Not painful. But enough to make her feel it.

"Good girl," he murmured.

Lanie shivered. She wondered if he had any idea what those two words did to her. He stepped closer, his body pressing against hers, the hard lines of his chest flush against her softer curves.

"You like this," he murmured, dragging his nose along the curve of her throat.

She swallowed hard. "I…"

Archer’s fingers ghosted over her hip, teasing, taunting. "I could make you beg," he mused. "Right here. Right now."

Lanie sucked in a sharp breath. He was right, he could. Her body ached for him. For his touch. For more.

Instead, he leaned in and whispered against her lips, "Behave tonight, little one, or there will be consequences—painful ones."

Then, just as quickly as he’d bound her, he untied the silk, letting it slide through his fingers. Lanie nearly whimpered .

She sucked in a sharp breath, struggling to regain control. "That was… unfair."

Archer’s lips quirked. "No, that was a warning."

He lifted the silk ribbon, tucking it into the pocket of his suit jacket, like a promise, a reminder.

Lanie’s entire body burned.

Archer stepped back, adjusting his cuffs like he hadn’t just turned her into a quivering mess.

"You ready?" he asked casually.

Lanie exhaled hard. "I hate you."

Archer chuckled. "No, you don’t."

She scowled, but she still took his arm when he offered it. And as they stepped into the night, Lanie realized something terrifying—she might have just stepped into the lion’s den.

But the real danger? Was the man walking beside her.

Lanie stepped deeper into the masquerade, her pulse a steady thrum beneath her skin. The ballroom was alive with energy—bodies pressed together in close conversation, the sound of laughter and music blending into a hypnotic hum. The air smelled of expensive cologne, perfume, and something darker, something more dangerous lurking just beneath the surface.

She forced herself to breathe.

She wasn’t a victim. Not tonight.

Her emerald gown shimmered under the soft lighting, the thin silk molding to her curves in a way that made her skin heat under Archer’s gaze. The man hadn’t let her out of his sight since they’d arrived, his possessiveness simmering just below the surface.

And part of her liked it.

She felt his hand at the small of her back, guiding her through the room like he owned her, and the way her body responded told her that maybe she wanted him to. But she couldn’t think about that now.

Because she’d just seen him. Lanie’s stomach lurched. Vinnie. He was here.

He stood near the edge of the room, half in the shadows, watching her. His mask obscured most of his face, but she didn’t need to see it to know.

The way he held himself. The way he leaned casually against a marble pillar, completely at ease, like he belonged here.

Like he wasn’t a monster.

Her fingers clenched into fists. She couldn’t fall apart now. Not in front of Archer. Not when she was supposed to be proving to herself that she was stronger than this.

Lanie swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep moving. She could feel Archer’s gaze on her, assessing, measuring. He knew something was wrong, but he hadn’t called her on it. Yet.

"Champagne?" A waiter appeared beside them, balancing a tray of crystal flutes.

Lanie nodded quickly, grabbing a glass. She took a sip, hoping the cool liquid would calm the rising panic in her chest.

It didn’t.

"Talk to me, little one."

Her breath caught at Archer’s deep murmur, his voice a quiet command against her ear.

She turned slightly, meeting his gaze through the delicate lace of her mask. "I’m fine," she lied.

His jaw flexed. “Don’t lie to me. From this point forward, if you lie to me, there will be consequences.”

She hated lying to him, but there was a part of her that now wanted to lie to him so she could experience those consequences. She wanted to experience being put over Archer’s knee, having those powerful hands deliver his discipline. She wanted to know someone cared enough about her to discipline her. But more than that, she wanted to know what it felt like to have Archer drive his cock into her so that she screamed as she came. The thought made her whole body tremble.

But if she told him now—if she let even a hint of fear slip past her lips—he would tear through this room and rip Vinnie apart. And that was exactly what Vinnie wanted. For her to make a scene. Vinnie would think he was still in control—only he wasn’t.

Archer studied her for a long moment, the intensity of his stare making the butterflies in her belly that had been fluttering around take flight. Finally, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. His fingers lingered, trailing down the delicate column of her throat before settling at the curve of her jaw.

"You’re lying," he murmured.

Her breath hitched. "I’m fine," she repeated, more firmly this time.

Archer’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he raised an eyebrow. "Another lie. That’s five when we get home. I suppose you’ll tell me when you’re ready," he said. "But understand this, little one—nothing happens to you tonight. Nothing . "

A shiver rolled through her. Before she could respond, a familiar chime buzzed from her clutch. Her stomach dropped.

Slowly, her fingers curled around her phone. She cast Archer a quick glance, then turned slightly away, just enough to shield the screen as she unlocked it.

A new message. No number. Just two words.

Leave. Now.

Lanie’s throat tightened. Her hands shook. Then another message appeared.

Or else.

A wave of nausea hit her. She felt it—the sharp stab of helplessness creeping up her spine, wrapping tight around her throat like a vice.

No. Not again.

Lanie forced herself to lift her gaze, scanning the room. Vinnie was gone. Her pulse pounded. Where was he? What did he mean? Her grip on the phone tightened, her breathing uneven.

"Lanie."

Archer’s voice. Low. Controlled.

She swallowed hard, locking the screen before slowly turning to face him.

"Yeah?"

His blue eyes burned into her. "You’re shaking."

Damn it. She had to pull it together.

Lanie forced a smile, slipping the phone back into her clutch. "It’s nothing," she said lightly. "Just the champagne. I probably should’ve eaten more."

Archer didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The air between them thickened, charged with something heavy.

Then, after a long, excruciating beat, he nodded once.

"That’s five more.” He murmured. “Stay close.”

Lanie nodded, as shivers ran up and down her spine. Her fingers curled around his arm as he led her deeper into the masquerade. She pasted a polite smile on her face, willed herself to breathe, to pretend.

But inside? Inside, she was screaming. Because Vinnie was here.

And he was waiting for her to make a mistake.