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“You’re definitely crazy, though,” I say, entranced with the gold flecks in his brown eyes, the way they look at me full of so much emotion. Emotion I can’t quite figure out, but I don’t want to. It’s a little scary to contemplate, and I’m not ready to face it yet. “You’re drastically over budget.”
“You’re the one who put the budget on me. The sky’s the limit for this place. I already told you that.” He kisses me, his lips lingering, and just like that I want him.
He makes me want to lose all control... and gladly.
Pulling back, I roll my eyes. The budget I tried to get him to agree to has flown right out the window. No wonder he drives his father crazy. Don Bancroft plans and plots to the finest detail. He has a list and a chart and a spreadsheet for every little thing. He doesn’t go a penny over budget unless he’s absolutely forced to, at least according to the stories my brother has told me. And when he does go over budget, he’s grumbling and griping the entire time.
Whereas Archer tends to fly by the seat of his pants and hope like hell it all comes together. It worked for him before with Hush. I know it’s going to work this time aroundtoo with Crave. I can feel it. His love and excitement for this opening far outshines anything else.
Well, his excitement for me is pretty shiny too. Love? Yeah, I doubt that, but I’m going to revel in what we share while we have it. Because it’s fleeting, I know this.
I think he knows it too.
Our two weeks together are almost up, and I can hardly stand the thought of being away from him.
“We shouldn’t have your friend make those rugs. I’m sure I can find something that’ll work. I like the solid color idea. It’s simple. Won’t put me through so much torture while I look for the perfect pattern. Now I just need to find the perfect color.” I turn away from him, my finger poised to resume scrolling, and he touches my arm, causing me to look at him again.
“I already texted her. We’ll meet with her tomorrow first thing. Your work day is officially over.” He smiles, softening his demanding words. “I’ll take you to dinner if you’d like.”
“Where?” I ask breathlessly, my arm tingling from his touch. His palm is wide, his fingers long, and he’s smoothing his hand up and down my arm, making my breath come a little quicker. “I’m kinda tired. It’s been a long day.”
“We could stay here tonight. There are a couple of suites available. We could order room service, maybe?” He raises his brows, waiting for my answer.
I’ve wanted to try out those outdoor bathtubs built for two since I first saw one. Working with Archer has turned into a kind of torturous foreplay, one I both delight and agonize in. All the wanting and the yearning throughout the day, the lingering glances and the quick touches.
Archer Bancroft makes me feel like a confident, smart,and desirable woman. And I’m going to wield my newfound power on the very man who gave it to me.
Archer
Room service sounds perfect,” Ivy says after a too-long pause. Hell, for a minute there I thought she was going to say no.
It has been slow at Hush, which works out in my favor since I spend half of my time in Calistoga lately. Always with Ivy by my side, helping me, offering her suggestions, guiding me when I go off track, me pushing her when she is being too conservative.
First day in, I realized pretty quickly we make a good team. There are enough differences between us that balance our personalities and allow us to work well together. Hard to notice when in the past, all we ever did was argue every time we came together.
But the arguing was a result of all that troublesome sexual attraction getting in the way. Not that it’s disappeared. Hell no. But we’re taking care of that issue every single night. We’re both exhausted after a heavy and long workday, but we always make time for each other. In bed. Wrapped around each other, naked limbs entangled. My ultimate task of the day is making Ivy moan with pleasure.
I’m falling for her. Hard. Fast. I don’t want her to leave. She feels like a true partner in every sense of the word.
That scares the shit out of me.
Working side by side with Ivy since she came here has beenexhilarating. Getting to know her, watching her in her element has left me impressed. She may be young and at an early point in her career, but she’s smart and instinctive, with excellent taste. Without a doubt, I know my resort is going to look unbelievable when we’re finished.
I just hope we can wrap it all up and have it ready in the next few days. That’s the only thing making me anxious.
Well, that and the fact that as soon as Crave opens, Ivy’s gone. Out of my life.
Fuck, that fills me with so much despair I can barely stand thinking about it. She doesn’t think I’ll stick. And sometimes I doubt myself too. I don’t want to subject her or myself to a relationship that’s doomed to fail.
But are we really doomed? I don’t know. I’m so used to thinking that way, it’s hard to believe anything else.
“So you want to get a room? Or eat here in the office then head on home?” I definitely don’t want the formality of my office this evening, eating at my desk, talking business like we’ve been doing constantly since I’ve brought her here.
I want to be in a suite tonight, alone with her and shut off from the rest of the world. We can eat, plan our schedule for tomorrow, and then indulge in each other. My favorite part of the day is the nights. Being alone with Ivy.
Being inside Ivy.
How will I feel, though, when it’s all over? Normally, with women, it’s never an issue. Hell, I don’t allow women to become this close to me ever. Their expectations grow to insurmountable proportions, and I’m left fending off their disappointment and sense of abandonment.
