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Unable to deny him the request, I walked back to the house, holding on to his hand, unconcerned for once what the staff would think. Nobody but Ciel and I knew William was gay.
But it would be impossible for them not to notice the separate bedrooms and William’s frequent absences. Archer didn’t seem to care what the staff might think, his grip firm.
As long as the staff only thought I was having an affair, William’s secret was safe. Besides, Archer was my bodyguard. If it came down to it, I could probably come up with an explanation for why he was leading me through the house. And I was certain nobody would have seen us in the gazebo, as it was hidden from view.
Archer’s long strides meant I had to run to keep up. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but my legs are a lot shorter than yours.”
Slowing down, he pulled me closer. “Sorry. Habit. And I’m well aware of what every part of your body looks like. Including your incredible legs.”
I tripped, partly due to surprise and partly because of the warmth that suffused my body at his words. They filled me with hope. That there was a chance for us. That maybe our age difference wasn’t as much of a hurdle as I’d always thought.
We made it to my room without passing anyone.Guess the staff are still on a mission to not disturb me.
Archer strode through my bedroom door as if he’d done it a million times before, kicking it closed as soon as we were both inside. “Show me.”
Instead of answering, I walked him to the easel set up by the window.
Archer released my hand, stepping up behind me. His body curved around mine, and he studied the painting in front of us. It was of my view out the window.
I craned my head to look at him. His face had gone soft, the constant tension he seemed to carry with him easing.
He didn’t say a word. But he didn’t have to. His upturned lips and the absence of his frown told me all I needed to know.
And despite my earlier reservation, I was now happy he was looking at it. Painting had always been my escape whenever I’d felt helpless and trapped. And for him to think so highly of something I’d only ever considered a form of therapy was uplifting.
A few drawings and canvases leaned against the wall, and Archer walked over, examining each one. Only when he’d studied every single one did he turn around, still holding the last canvas he’d looked at. I knew which one it was. It was on the bottom of the pile, and I hadn’t looked at it since putting it there.
It was a drawing of Archer. He’d known I’d been drawing him at the time and indulged me, posing jokingly. I’d captured him mid laugh, his head thrown back, his neck muscles pronounced. He’d only been eighteen.
But every time I moved to throw it out, something had held me back. And I’d always kept it in my room instead of the pool house.
At least he didn’t know about the more recent drawing of him I’d done. It was safely stashed in my nightstand drawer. Since I’d used paper instead of a bulky canvas, it was much easier to hide.
“I can’t believe you kept this.”
Heat creeped up my cleavage, my ears burning. Butterflies fluttered wildly around my stomach.
He set the canvas down next to the others and breached the distance between us until he was close enough that all I had to do was lift a hand to touch him. “Can I ask you something?”
“The fact that you feel the need to ask doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”
He took a strand of my hair as if he couldn’t help himself, a playful grin playing on his face. “It’s not that bad.”
Sucking in a breath, I resisted the urge to lean into his hand that was still playing with my hair. “Okay.”
There really had never been another answer to give. I wanted to know what his question was.
His eyes were on mine, something dark glittering in them I couldn’t decipher. “Do you still only think of me as your best friend’s little brother?”
I hadn’t been with anyone since I married William. Hooking up with someone had never sounded appealing. A one-night stand wouldn’t have been the emotional connection I so desperately craved.
Now here I was, complicating my life more than I’d ever thought possible. Which was why I answered honestly. In for a penny and all that.
“It’s been a long time since I only thought of you as my best friend’s little brother.”
The confession tumbled out of me. Archer had always been hard to read, but now he didn’t show a hint of emotion. Did I say too much?
“Why did you stop returning my calls?”
