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“Miss, you shouldn’t be out of bed.” Rosie, one of the maids, rushed up to me. Obviously everyone already knew what happened.
“I’m fine, Rosie, really.”
I sank onto one of the bar stools, exhausted from walking down to the kitchen.
Jacques was by my side in an instant, hugging me to him. “We were so worried.” Kissing my head, he released me. “Are you hungry? I can make you whatever you want.”
“Do you have any lemon meringue?”
Jacques grinned and walked off with a flourish and a stream of French words. One minute later, half a lemon meringue sat in front of me. The piece was so large it didn’t fit on the plate.
The room was too quiet, the normal bustle absent. Nobody talked, and they all moved with more care than usual.
Rosie looked up from where she’d been preparing lunch, her face lighting up when she glanced behind me. “Mr. Bennet. Would you like anything to eat? I’d be happy to prepare you something.”
At the mention of Archer’s name, I spun around in my seat, coming nose to chest with him.
“You feeling better?” His voice was a low grumble, and I longed to lean into him, to bury my face in his T-shirt.
Nodding, I attempted a smile that slid right off my face again when I tilted my head back to look at him. His eyes narrowed, and his chin rose. It was my least favorite look of his. It gave him an air of arrogance, of superiority.
“I’m okay.” Breaking eye contact, I looked at the spotless tiles instead. “Thank you so much for last night.”
“I’m sorry for overstepping. I shouldn’t have done that.” He sounded robotic, and any comfort I’d taken from last night evaporated. “It should have been your husband with you, not me.” He cleared his throat, diverting his attention to Rosie. “A sandwich would be great. I’m not picky what’s on it, as long as it’s not tuna.”
“You got it, Mr. Bennet.”
Unable to let it go, I pulled myself up, scraping up the last of my courage and locking eyes with him again. “But he wasn’t. And I’m grateful that you were.”
His stony gaze didn’t waver. “Instead of staying put like we’d advised him to do, he went to France while there was still the possibility of another attack. An attack that happened.”
I felt immediately defensive. “He’s a busy man. And I’m fine. There’s no need for him to be here.”
“You’re his wife. Nothing should be more important to him than you.”
Pushing my barely touched plate away, I slid off the stool. The movement brought me even closer to Archer, something I hadn’t considered.
But I was too angry to care about being so close to him for once. “He’s a good guy. And I don’t need him to be here to hold my hand.” I only needed the angry giant currently scowling down at me. But of course, I’d never say that to him. Especially not if he was angry at having to step in last night.
Stomping out of the room with no destination in mind but to put distance between us before I lost my mind in front of the staff, I bumped my way through the house.
Eventually I made it outside, ending up at the gazebo overlooking the ocean. Hands braced on the banister, I lowered my head, breathing in the familiar salty air. This was one of my favorite places on the property, and I’d added cushions, blankets, and a stash of books over the years.
Footsteps sounded behind me, Archer’s presence taking my breath away with its angry intensity. “Someone just tried to hurt you again, yet your husband isn’t even answering his phone. You’re lucky he has three guys with him whodoknow how to answer a phone. At least we know he’s safe, and once again it was only you who had to suffer from his poor choices.”
The anger bubbled up, and I whirled around, stepping so close that the tips of our feet were touching. I shoved him, but he didn’t so much as move.
My body shook from the wave of anger and helplessness that overtook me. I was so sick of having to watch what I said, of pretending Archer meant nothing to me. And my already brittle façade crumbled.
“He’s with his boyfriend,” I yelled, then pushed him again, shocked at my words. “And since his boyfriend lives in France, that means it’s almost a thirty-hour flight to get back here. Even if he had answered his phone, he wouldn’t be able to get here until tomorrow.”
Archer’s eyes flashed, his mouth gaping open. We both stood there, me breathing hard, him barely taking a breath at all.
And then I found myself in his arms, his mouth on mine, his kiss punishing and angry. Startling out of my initial shock, I arched into him, my arms going around him, anchoring him to me. His lips against mine felt right. His embrace felt like home.
The images of what had happened in the alley disappeared, replaced with the feel of Archer’s lips. Of Archer’s tongue stroking mine. Of Archer’s hands on my body.
Our teeth clashed, and our tongues fought for dominance. It was messy, it was unforgiving, and it was everything I needed.
