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Because this version of her? The real one…I think I might be obsessed with it.
CHAPTER 25
WINNIE
“What are you smiling at?”Archer asks me as we sit across from one another at dinner. His chef had prepared chicken with vegetables that smell amazing. We’d gone all day without talking after the kiss at the gym that hasn’t left my mind since the moment it happened, but somehow, things haven’t felt weird. They just feel…electrified.
“I’m not smiling,” I answer, rubbing my lips together to try and hide that I definitely am smiling.
His sigh is loud as he sets down his fork. He’s barely even taken two bites, but his food seems forgotten as he looks at me from across the long table. “Winnie, you’re a horrible liar. You wear your emotions all over your face.”
My lips twitch, only fueling him further. He holds his hands up, a small laugh coming from his chest. “See! Right there. You’re smiling.”
I shake my head, trying to stab a piece of chicken but I’m not in the least bit interested with my food. “I was thinking about you at the gym today. How you almost bit the head off the poor guy who offered to help me after the closet incident.”
He chokes on the sip of water he’d just taken. “Incident?”
This time, I don’t hide my smile from him. “Yeah. Incident.”
He grinds his teeth. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t awaretasting your moans as you pretty much begged for me to keep kissing you was an incident.”
I swallow, feeling my smile falter. He’s right. I would’ve begged and begged if it meant he’d keep kissing me. No one had ever kissed me with so much passion—so much possession. It’s like he became an entirely new person from the other times we’ve kissed while keeping up appearances.
And it’d rocked my world.
I’d thought about it all day and wondered if it’d ever happen again. In the heat of the moment, I’d been bold to tell him I wanted to mix business and pleasure. But now that his hands aren’t traveling over my body and his lips aren’t on me, I wonder if he has a point.
We signed a business contract to be married, but we never even broached the subject of what would happen behind closed doors. Why should we have? We’re two people who were taught to hate each other. Now, I’m wondering if I’m still supposed to hate him or if maybe it isn’t so wrong for me to want to kiss him more like that.
He taps the table with his knuckles, catching my attention. When I focus on him again, I find his gaze pinned on me. His eyes are dark, his posture rigid as he stares at me. “Is that what you call anincident?” He pretty much hisses the last word, like he hates the sound of it coming from his mouth.
I shrug. “Yep,” I answer casually, finally taking a bite of the food. It’s absolutely delicious, but everything Archer’s chef makes is phenomenal.
“I’m about to kiss you just to prove to you that there’s nothing about our mouths meeting that’s an incident.”
I stop mid-chew, thrown off by his words. I swallow, even though the bite isn’t fully chewed. He stares at me expectantly, his eyebrows slightly raised as if he’s already amused by whatever my response will be.
“What if that was your one chance?” I respond, my voice not coming out as confident as I want it to.
“Was it?” he immediately fires back, his voice rough.
I sit back. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t believe in only having one chance. If you work hard for it, second chances aren’t out of reach.”
I mull over his words, not sure how to respond. The easy answer is that I want to kiss him again—and not just because we’ll undoubtedly have to at an event or for a photo op. But I want to kiss him because it feels good to kiss him.
It surprisingly feels right. But that isn’t really an easy answer because I shouldn’t want to kiss him. I really shouldn’t want anything to do with him outside of the obligations we have for public appearances.
“I think we need more rules,” I finally get out.
“Rules?” He drags the word out slowly.
“Yes. Rules.”
His smirk is so devilishly handsome that I almost want to tell him that rules aren’t really needed. Are there really any rules when it comes to marrying someone to help keep your name clean? “Why do you think we need rules?” It’s a simple question, but the way he asks it makes it seem so seductive.
I shift in my seat. He stares at me so intently that it makes me squirm. Why is his eye contactsosexy?
