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There’s an image of his naked body pinning me against his bed in my mind.
And there’s that sharp sound of stilettos against the hard floor again.
“Oh, look who graced us with his presence!” Margot yaps as she makes her way across the room.
She’s like a bee that flies around the sweet cocktail you are about to drink. Every time she is close I want to swat her away.
“I didn’t hear anyone calling your name,” I say. “Looks like you enjoy interrupting my evening.”
No, not a bee—a needle on the couch you sit down on by accident.
She fakes a smile. “Oh, it has nothing to do with you.”
“Clearly.”
She turns to Archer. “I was going to discuss that at work, but you weren’t there.”
Jesus, girl, sit down.
She is so obvious it’s pathetic.
“The meeting with the board—”
“We’ll talk about it later, Margot.” Archer doesn’t look at her, but she clearly doesn’t get the message.
“No. Because I have to arrange it tomorrow, and you won’t be there.” She pulls out her phone, swiping it as she searches for something.
“Desperate, huh?” I murmur.
Her head snaps in my direction. “Do you like having a job, Katura?”
I’ve seen that vicious stare somewhere. Oh, right. That snake that bit me.
I don’t break our eye contact. “Do you like having legs, Margot?” I swear I’ll go Tonya Harding on her.
An amused chuckle escapes Archer’s mouth.
Margot murmurs, “Savage,” then turns to him and leans on the table to partially block me.
I’m gonna lose my patience with this one. “Excuse me,” I say and head toward the restroom around the corner, but then step out between the palm trees and into the shadowy back street, leaving the restaurant.
The Pink Medusa always manages to interrupt, making me angry. Archer lets her. And he basks in this attention. He knows how much she annoys the hell out of me.
One thing cuts through the anger, and I smile as I head up the main street toward the northern part of Ayana.
My kitten.
I snort to myself.
Next time Archer and I are together, I’ll bring him to his knees. I’ll make him repeat the words I taught him.
Maja karaleva.
So that when he kneels for me, he can call me, “My queen” in Russian.
37
ARCHER
