13. Just One Kiss
CHAPTER 13
JUST ONE KISS
Paloma
I stare up at the ceiling of my new bedroom. The layout is similar to my old room with a fireplace facing the double French doors that lead to a large balcony. There are two pieces of furniture in the entire room, a four-poster bed with simple white linens, a plush comforter, and a writing desk against the upholstered walls.
When Mary Jane gave me the quick tour last night, she apologized she only had a simple gown for me to wear to bed. I don’t care that the closet is empty, that none of my clothes are here. I have nowhere to go, and worst of all, no ballet practice.
My body doesn’t know the difference. It’s why I’m wide awake at five in the morning, feeling like I got ran over by a train.
Some wedding night.
The whole night I had dreams of Archer. I saw him at the foot of the bed just looking at me as if guarding my sleep. I longed for his touch, though it never came. I have to get used to the idea that he will never touch me again. Not with his girlfriend living under the same roof. He claims he bought me to save me. But then why is he now so full of regret? Why not just let one of the other men at the auction take me?
I don’t know if I’ll be able to endure living like this, wanting him so much and not being able to have him. He belongs to her…Gardenia, the free-spirited girl with the contagious smile. And what am I? The tiny ballet dancer stuck in her box—his prisoner.
The sun rises over the gardens below my balcony and bathes the room in a warm light. Even though it’s freezing outside, it’s cozy in here with the crackling fire and the thick bedding. Without a plan in mind, I get out of bed and pad over to the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a shower. Unlike my old home, this place has recently been renovated. The luxurious bathroom is done in white marble with light gray cabinets. It’s beautiful.
After I finish, I dress in the sweater and pants Caterina gave me last night—a fter our wedding ceremony. The thought lingers in my mind until I’m reminded that Archer doesn’t want a real marriage with me. I need to think of something to get me out of this ridiculous situation. Archer can’t keep me as his prisoner. He doesn’t even know me. And I don’t know him. For all intents and purposes, we’re complete strangers.
When I open the door, I find my duffle bag on the floor along with all the bouquets of roses I left in my dressing room. I grab the bag and a single red rose. Maybe Mary Jane can use the rest of the arrangements to brighten up the house.
I set the bag on the writing desk and open it, hoping to find my phone. Of course it’s gone. I’m sure Archer decided to keep it or maybe he simply left it behind for Dad to find. I rummage through the rest of the contents and find my dirty ballet clothes and the crystal swan. I close my hand around it and feel its weight. Was it only yesterday morning that I used it to pleasure myself, while thinking of him? In an instant, images of Archer watching me rub against the swan flood my mind.
“No.” I shake my head.
He’s made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with me. I have to accept that and not think of him anymore. I set the crystal down and head out to explore the house before Archer and his family wake up.
As soon as I leave the room, my stomach grumbles, and I realize I’m starving because I skipped two meals yesterday. Hopefully the kitchen is stocked, and I can make myself something to eat. Reaching the landing, I glance up to the second set of stairs that lead to the third floor. I go up a few steps but then think better of it.
“Archer sleeps up there. When he sleeps, that is.” She smirks.
“Oh?” I turn to find Gardenia in her sleep clothes, leaning on the doorframe of her room. I climb down. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll make sure and stay away from the third floor.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, sure that’ll get him to stop looking at you like you’re his last meal.”
“I’m sorry?” I step toward her.
Did Archer spend the night with her? Why else would she come out of her room to talk to me if not to remind me that Archer is already taken? Being Archer’s wife means nothing.
“Whatever.” She slams the door shut.
“Okay.” I furrow my brows at her door, then continue downs the stairs.
The main floor is bigger than my house. Everything feels new as if it’s been recently renovated. I glance to my left at the tarp covering the dilapidated grand staircase. Curiosity wins over. Before I know it, I’m on the second level staring down a scary corridor. There’s fire damage along the walls. One door at the end of the hallway appears in worse shape than the others. With my heart thudding in my throat, I make my way to it. What happened here?
“Get out.” Archer’s voice makes me spin around. “This part of the house is off-limits to you. Go.” He points toward the stairwell as his chest rises and falls.
My feet are glued to the worn carpet. I can’t move as I stare into Archer’s angry eyes.
“I said get out.” He raises his voice to a thunderous roar.
Somehow, I snap out of it, and finally find the will to run away from him. Tears spill down my cheeks as I race down the stairs, across the foyer, then up the stairs to the other wing. I don’t stop until I reach the safety of my room. I hate it here. I climb under the covers and make myself go back to sleep.
* * *
Days later, I sit up in my bed in the dark with my belly grumbling again. I can’t stay in my room forever. So I decide to head out and find the kitchen. If I hurry, I can prepare a sandwich and bring it back to my room without being seen. I dart down the stairs to the main floor. Once I find the dining room, I use the service door in the back to get to the kitchen, which like the rest of the house, is brand new with a double-sized island in the middle of the room, tall cupboards, and a massive stove. Everything is top of the line.
I amble to the refrigerator where I find already prepared sandwiches on a platter. Maybe this is what Mary Jane plans to serve for lunch. Lifting the plastic wrap on the corner, I snatch four triangles with ham and some kind of jam in the middle. Deciding against going back to my room to eat, I take a bite as I sit on one of the barstools.
“Hmm.” I close my eyes as the flavors melt in my mouth.
Once I finish, I grab a green apple from the fruit bowl sitting on the counter and bite into it. It’s sweet and so juicy I have to wipe my chin. I hop off the barstool and explore more of the kitchen. There’s a door that leads to the gardens that are currently covered in several inches of snow. I press my hand on the windowpane and peek outside. It’s so pretty out there, I make a mental note to go out once I find a coat I can wear.
“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving the house in those clothes?” Archer’s voice fills every nook and cranny in the kitchen. “You need a proper coat.”
“I wasn’t….” I turn to face him then freeze.
I’ve seen a lot of shirtless men during my career. When you’re a performer, modesty is the first thing that has to go. Most men prefer to practice in just their tights. But all those years didn’t prepare me for Archer’s impressive physique. Without a shirt, his muscled shoulders seem wider than I know them to be. Gray sweatpants hang low on his hips. He’s out of breath as if he just finished a run. With every inhale, beads of sweat drip down his defined abs and get lost in his waistband. I swallow at the sight of him.
“Your father refused to surrender your clothes to the person I sent two days ago. A shopper will stop by later today to get you anything you need. Winter clothes for example.” His eyes settle on my feet. “And shoes. You can’t go out there in bedroomslippers”
“I don’t want anything from you.” I finally recover from the shock of seeing his nude body.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s awake this early because he spent the night with Gardenia again. He stands there for several beats, and I swear the temperature in the room goes up at least ten degrees. He flexes his hand, and his entire chest bulges in response. God, the man is beautiful. Beautiful and unattainable. Meeting my gaze, he grabs the T-shirt tucked in the back of his waistband. Like a kid in a candy store, I stand there and ogle him as he pulls the T-shirt over his head and covers his entire torso.
“You will take the clothes. The last thing I want is for you to go out there looking like this.” He makes a show of looking me up and down. “You’ll freeze to death.”
“Bite me.” I head for the fridge to get water to take up to my room.
But in two long strides, he’s next to me, crowding me with his sweaty body. “Don’t tempt me, Little Dove.” His hot breath brushes my cheek.
This close, his musky scent assaults my senses. I grip the refrigerator door handle to keep from throwing myself at him, and playing the fool all over again, like I did on the limo ride here. I’m a puddle of want, while he’s the epitome of self-control.
I open the fridge and take a carafe full of water. Since there are others in there, I decide to take the whole thing with me.
Before I reach the kitchen door, he calls out to me, “Paloma.”
I want to run out, but my body only listens to him. Slowly, I turn to face him.
“You will join me for dinner,” he demands.
“So I can watch you and your girlfriend make eyes at each other.” I press my lips to hide how much it hurts me to think of the two of them together. “I don’t think so. I may live in your house, but I don’t have to do what you say.”
“That is not a request.” He prowls toward me until our noses are an inch apart. “You will dine with me.”
“I’d rather starve.” My legs finally respond and I’m able to leave him behind with what little dignity I have left intact.
As soon as I reach the dining room, I take off running and don’t stop until I’m safe in my room again.
* * *
Later that afternoon, after spending all day locked away in my room, a tall woman with perfectly straight hair, barges into my room with two other assistants, carting four garment racks. They’re beyond excited to be helping the new Mrs. Archer. Before I know it, the bed is covered in winter and spring clothes, ranging from exclusive designers to well-known brands.
“Archer asked me to also include several evening gowns and cocktail dresses.” Susan beams at me. “Why don’t you try this one?” She pulls a beautiful red dress off one of the racks she brought in.
“It’s beautiful.” I run my hands over the silky fabric, and a smile pulls at my lips. The style is very similar to the dress I wore to the hotel bar the night I met Archer. “I can’t accept this. It must cost a fortune.”
“It does.” Susan winks at me. “But Archer said you could have anything you want. He also mentioned you need several winter coats.” She stops to look at me. “What happened to all your other clothes? I noticed your closet is empty.”
“Um, the airline lost my luggage.” I press my lips together, knowing I’m a terrible liar.
“They do that. Don’t they?” She smiles politely. “Try this on. There’s also this cocktail dress that I think will be perfect for tonight’s dinner. Pam, here.” She gestures to one of her assistants. “She has cleared her schedule today so she can stay and tailor any of the dresses you choose so they all fit you perfectly. Mr. Archer said we can work in the room next door.”
Looking at their happy and expectant faces, I can’t bring myself to tell them I don’t want anything from Archer because I’m supposed to hate him. No, not supposed to. I do hate him. I hate that he wants to keep me at arm’s length but also make me eat dinner with him and his girlfriend. I hate that I’m all alone in his house.
“Thank you. This is a great choice.” With a quick nod, I grab the dress and pad over to the bathroom to try it on.
I remove my chunky sweater and pants, then slip on the dress. It fits me like a glove, except for the length. When I turn to face the full-length mirror, I catch Gardenia’s reflection, looking back at me.
“Archer said I could choose a couple of dresses. Do you mind?” she asks.
Technically, the clothes are not mine. So, I shouldn’t mind. But I can’t help but feel jealous that Archer is also buying her clothes. But then I realize, she was here first. I’m the one lusting over her boyfriend. I’m the one who got in the middle. It doesn’t matter that I’m Archer’s wife. She was here first.
“Of course not, help yourself to whatever you want.” I make to leave, but then stop. “I’m sorry Archer had to marry me.”
Her eyebrows go up in surprise, then she laughs. “Is that what you think? That he had to?”
“It’s what he said.” I swallow to mask the slight sting I feel in my chest.
“Okay. We’re doing this.” She scoffs, looking up as if looking for the right words. “Dad wants me to apologize to you.”
“Why?” I let out a nervous chuckle. Gardenia’s energy scares me a little. She’s confident and has no qualms speaking her mind.
“For last night.” She braces her hands on her hips, taking in a breath. “Archer and I have never been together. More than that, he sees me as his little sister. I’ve always known that.” She bites her lip. “When he introduced you as his wife, I kind of lost my shit, you know. I realized him and I can never be.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask.
“Because, according to Dad, I acted like a total brat and made you feel unwelcome.” She presses her lips together. “You’re already here. And you’re Archer’s wife. So, what’s the point?” She turns to leave but then faces me again. “Don’t break his heart.”
“He would need to have one for that to happen.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“He does. And it’s a big one.” She forces a smile. “You’re very lucky. He’s kind and generous. Yeah, he’s a grump, but he can also be fun. Or he used to be fun.”
“I’ve yet to see that side of him.” I can’t help but feel a little jealous that Gardenia knows a side of Archer that is kind and fun.
“I think he loves you. He just hasn’t figured it out yet.” She runs a hand through her hair.
“He said he couldn’t love me.” I have no idea why I’m confiding in her now.
“I mean, you’re you, you’re your father’s daughter. But still.” She gestures to my dress. “Look at you.” She shakes her head.
“What does it matter who my father is?” I ask.
My father is not perfect. But that doesn’t mean Archer can judge him. I rub the inside of my wrist. Dad must be destroyed right about now. I could see it in his eyes, how much it pained him to let me do this for him.
“Well, you’re here because of him, aren’t you? Anyway, I’m going to take a few dresses to my room and try them on.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Take anything you want.” I follow her to the bedroom and wait until she picks out a few things.
“Bye.” She waves and walks out, leaving the door wide opened.
In the next breath, Archer appears and leans his shoulder on the frame. “I just saw Gardenia leaving your room. Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” My gaze flicks to Susan, then back to Archer. “She came to apologize for last night.”
“Really?” He glances behind him for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod, not moving an inch. I don’t want him in my room. I just don’t trust myself around him. If he rejects me one more time, I don’t know what I will do. “Thank you for the clothes. It’s very generous of you.” I gesture toward the hallway.
And he takes it for what it is—an invitation to leave.
He purses his lips, takes a quick glance at Susan and Pam, who are busy arranging the clothes I already opted to keep. When I turn to leave, he takes a single step inside my room.
I hug myself, trying very hard not to picture him shirtless. I still have the strong urge to kiss him and touch his entire naked body.
“Last night we didn’t get a chance to talk.” He wanders to my desk and picks up the crystal swan. He grips it tight with long fingers in a way that’s extremely erotic. His shoulders tense, and I can see he’s angry. “I came to your door, but you didn’t open.”
“I think we’ve taken enough of your time. If you need anything else, Pam will be next door working on your dresses.” Susan’s voice cuts through the tension building between Archer and me.
I have no doubt that’s the only reason why they’re making a quick exit. As much as I don’t want to be left alone with Archer, I know it’ s not fair to keep them here indefinitely. “Thank you. I’m good for now.”
“It was a pleasure serving you.” She shakes my hand, then Archer’s. “Please do call again if you need anything else.”
“I will.” I hold the door open as they cart out their mostly empty garment racks.
As soon as Archer and I are alone, the raw energy around us intensifies. Jesus, am I ever going to feel normal around him? Or am I to live the rest of my days in this constant state of wanting him and hating him?
“What do you want?” I ask.
“This morning you left before I could warn you.” He sets the swan back on the desk. “You’re free to roam the grounds, but make sure you stay within the property walls. There’s a pond beyond the gate, the moisture rises and makes it hard to see out there. It’s dangerous especially in this weather.”
“Okay. Anything else?” I grip the doorknob.
“The third floor is off-limits,” he continues.
“What’s up there?” I blurt out.
“Nothing that should concern you.” He cocks his brow. “I’m sure you already noticed, but the east wing is shut down for renovations. Stay out of it, the structure is not sound.”
“What happened to it?”
“A fire.” He deadpans. “Just stay away from it. I don’t want you to get hurt. Plus, there will be men coming in and out most mornings.”
“Right. And you didn’t pay to share me with the world.” I repeat his words from last night.
Even if he’s letting me out of my room and buying me clothes, I still feel like a prisoner.
He prowls toward me until my body is caged between him and the wall. “That’s correct, Little Dove. I’m glad you finally understand. No one else can have you but me.”
“You don’t have me, Archer.” I lift my chin with a defiant air I don’t feel.
“Is that what you think?” He lowers his hand until the backs of his fingers tap against my sex.
My breath hitches, and I’m painfully aware that if he goes deeper, he’ll know I’m already wet for him. I don’t have enough experience to control how my body reacts to his. It’s not fair that he has this much power over me.
“You think that just because I haven’t claimed your pussy, that you’re not mine?” He applies more pressure. “Answer.”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head, while tears brim my eyes.
He rewards my response by palming my aching bud. The friction feels glorious. Inside, I’m dying to writhe against his hand until I find my release. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction of rejecting me once more.
“I bet you taste sweet,” he whispers in my ear. “Maybe I can have just one kiss.”
He glances down so I don’t miss his meaning. He wants to kiss me there. A ribbon of desire spirals like fire right where his hand is rubbing my clit. I bit down on my lip until I taste blood, fighting to keep my composure. I want to scream his name and ask for more. But what I want, he’s not able to give. I know that now. He’s determined to keep me but never claim me.
And then he does the unthinkable. He drops to his knees, pulls down my pants and open mouth kisses my bare pussy. His tongue thrusts forward, pushing past my folds.
I tunnel my fingers through his soft hair, while my left hand lands on his back. He tenses and he’s on his feet, holding my wrist, in one fluid motion. There’s an expression of pain and sadness on his face that guts me.
“Why won’t you let me touch you?” I murmur.
“Dinner tonight.” He sucks in his lower lip, savoring me. “Wear the red dress.”
Before I can react to his demand, he opens the door and shuts it behind him. My head falls back and hits the wall. I cry out in frustration. How can he leave me like this, exposed and completely unsatisfied?
He’s got another thing coming if he really believes that leaving me stewing in my own desire is going to get me to agree to have dinner with him.
I hope his patience is as good as his self-control.
Because he’s going to be waiting a long time.