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“I wasn’t playing games. I was researching, Archer.”
“Oh, do tell me all about your little research excursion.” He pause and stares at me, his gaze knee-weakening. “How the guy’s hands were all over you.” He is not quite his cold self today. “How a dozen other guys were watching, slathering you with their fantasies.”
I cross my arms at my chest. I guess we didn’t discuss it properly after the incident. “They were Russian guards. And while I was—what did you call it?—doing anexcursion, I heard their conversations.”
Archer takes a step toward me, his eyes raking down and up my body with intentional slowness.
“And when I slipped out a Russian word,” I continue, my body acutely aware of his approach, “one of the guys said that I might be that girl who some friend of theirs was talking about. So, yeah.”
Archer stops several feet away from me. Like a predator. That’s his signature.
“You don’t care, do you?” I raise my chin defensively, trying to keep my cool though my body is growing hot. “The word around is that I’m to be avoided like poison ivy. I could’ve hung out with those guys and found out more.”
Archer starts stepping into me slowly—one step, two, three—backing me up until my back hits the wall. He is not listening.
“I don’t give a shit what they were talking about.” His gaze is fire. “I watched you on camera, and that guy’s hands were definitely not looking for the proof that you had some Russian in you.Hewas a Russian, trying to get very fucking deep in you in his barracks.”
“And what if he did?”
His stare turns vicious. “Wanna go to the Ashlands and fish for a good lay in the slums, sweetheart? Savages might be a wild ride.”
“Fuck you.”
“I think it’s about time you did.” The corner of his lips hitches in a smile. “If you want to succeed on this island, why not start from the top of the food chain? And guess who’s right there?”
I push him away, but he grabs my hands and presses all his weight on me, pinning me against the wall.
He nears his lips to mine. “Research, kitten? If that’s the kinda research you like, let’s do it here. Want some martial arts training? I’m right here, sweetheart. We can do it naked, too.”
The heat in me spikes like a rocket.
Even our breaths are fighting, so close to each other. Our chests rise and fall, and his rubs against my nipples.
“Feeling snappy, Mr. Chancellor?” I whisper.
I let my body go soft. His pressure loosens too.
Just then, I push into him with all my force, taking him by surprise and backing him up, then duck behind him, swinging his arm upward while twisting him and letting him fall onto the bed face down.
In seconds, I straddle him, holding his arms behind him in a tight grip.
“There, sweetheart,” I say, panting, enjoying the sight of his face in his mattress, “how’s that for training?”
I know my grip is not strong enough. I know his strength—I’ve seen it on the octagon at Carnage. This lock is a joke to him.
And while I focus on holding his wrists, Archer sets one knee against the mattress, then kicks his body upward, making me shoot up and forward as I let go of his wrists and fling my hands upward to cushion my fall.
He is fast—too fast—and in a moment, he grabs me by the waist, flips me like I’m a feather onto my back, and straddles me, pinning my arms above my head.
“Nice try, kitten,” he smiles, breathing heavily, then lowers his face to mine.
His movements are strong but too gentle for a regular fight. I’m not pretending to be stronger than him. But right now, he is not that self-controlled arrogant ass. Bingo!
“You are trouble,” he murmurs with a wicked smile.
And when his lips touch mine, it’s with urgency, opening mine, his tongue licking into my mouth with deep powerful strokes.
Hot tension lashes through my body that suddenly feels liquid. Like his tongue is some magic wand. It is. I swear. This guy is a wizard.
