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“The prestige of her design company working with Hush and Bancroft is more than enough incentive for her to have you come work for me.” He pauses, the confident expression on his face downright breathtaking. “You really think she’d refuse me?”
Could anyone refuse him? He’s a Bancroft, after all. And so arrogant with it, I wish I could tell him no. Just once. Right now would be the perfect time—but the opportunity he’s offering me is just too tempting and Sharon would kill me if she’s already agreed. He knows it too. “What you’re suggesting... it’s crazy. You really think we can get this project off the ground and ready in two weeks?”
“We can do whatever we set our minds to. Just say yes, Ivy.” His gaze drops, landing on my mouth, where it lingersa fraction too long. My lips literally tingle, as if he physically touched them.
Extracting my hand from his grasp, relief floods me as I finally break the physical connection between us. When he touches me, I can’t think. I have a problem thinking when he’s looking at me too, so I drop my gaze. Study the tablecloth in front of me, which is a stark, pure white, made of fine, thick linen.
That I’d rather contemplate a tablecloth shows how powerful Archer’s influence is on me. God, I’m weak when it comes to this man.
His sinfully deep voice breaks through my thoughts. “Stop playing this game, Ivy. It’s going to happen.”
Sighing, I reluctantly lift my gaze. “Fine. When do we leave?”
“Tonight?” He flashes that dazzling smile, the one that dissolves my panties.Sexy, no-good jerk.
Grabbing my wineglass, I drain it, my skin instantly warming from the alcohol. I’ll definitely need more wine to get through the rest of this evening. “No way. Tomorrow.”
“All right. Tomorrow works,” he drawls. “But it’ll have to be first thing. I have a few stipulations too.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“I’ll need you to consult with me on everything. Every choice, every decision you need to make. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but there’s a certain aesthetic I want at both locations and I need to ensure your choices meet that aesthetic.”
I nod once. Nothing unusual there. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
“And if I don’t like what you suggest, you won’t try to convince me otherwise. I have final word.” He wraps his fingersaround his beer bottle and brings it to his mouth, taking a drink, gorgeously sexy when he swallows, which is insane.
He makes me insane. His scent, the way he watches me with that calculated, hot gaze. His mere presence warms my skin, sets fire to my blood. Floods me with memories of our one amazing night together. I both cherish and hate those memories.
And he’s drawing out the suspense on purpose. I’m literally sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting to hear what he might say next. “I also want you to move in with me,” he finishes once he sets the bottle down.
My mouth drops open, shock rushing through my veins. “Move in with you?” I squeak, clearing my throat.
“I’ll need you on site every single day. I’m rushing this project. All decisions we need to make must be quick. I can’t have you coming back and forth from San Francisco. I need you with me. Every day. Every night, until the project is finished. At the very least you can stay at Hush.”
“Oh, I get exactly what you want from me.” A slow-burning rage sweeps over me, making me shake. I push back my chair and stand, glaring down at him. “I’m not going to be another one of your sexual conquests.”
Tilting his head back, he watches me, calm as ever. “Don’t be angry, Ivy. I’m not asking you to have sex with me in order for you to have this project. I’m not that much of an asshole.”
God, his words sting. What sort of woman does he think I am? “Yeah, right. Next thing I know I’m flat on my back in your bed. No thank you. You’re not going to bribe me with career recognition either.” Bending, I grab my purse from the floor and sling it over my shoulder.
“I know the idea of staying with me doesn’t make you comfortable,but it’s best for the project considering the timeline. Besides, I’m not asking you to wait for me naked in my bed every night, though the idea is appealing.” The arrogance dripping from his voice makes me want to hit something. Preferably him. “Come on, I know you haven’t forgotten how easy it was between us that night, Ivy,” he murmurs, his voice low. Sexy.
Ugh.
His words enflame me, filling me with both lust and anger. I really hate that I still want him. “You’re a bastard,” I say through clenched teeth before I turn and head toward the door, desperate to escape the suddenly too warm, too confining restaurant.
I hear him call my name. Hear his chair scrape across the floor as he stands and starts to come after me. But I refuse to look back. Choose to ignore the hostess who’s calling after me that she still has my coat.
Pushing open the door, I step out into the dark night, deeply breathing the cool air. A flash goes off in my face, I swear I hear them call Archer’s name, and I head in the opposite direction, avoiding the paparazzi at all costs. How could I forget they follow Archer everywhere?
God. My head is spinning, and not just from the wine. The stupid photographer is just the tip of my overwhelming iceberg—that Archer demands I work for him, went above my head to ensure I have no choice but to work for him is infuriating. Never mind that we had sex and he has to bring it up. Like he’s trying to use that night against me. I could blame it on the champagne I drank too much of, I suppose.
So freaking embarrassing.
Worse? I know I would’ve done it without the champagne.I can’t blame too much alcohol on my one night with Archer. I was completely sober.
But he’s an asshole. A controlling, arrogant jerk who thinks I’m some sort of spineless, stupid girl. I wish I could refuse him but he’s effectively trapped me. And why didn’t Sharon talk to me about this? I can’t quite wrap my head around how he made all of this happen and so quickly.
