“You really think I don’t mean it when I say I need you?” I’m incredulous. I sure as hell need her. More than I care to admit.
I have to convince her back into my bed. At least one more time—possibly a few dozen times before I let her go back to her world and I go back to mine. She was there the night of Jeff and Cecily’s wedding reception. All that pent-up chemistry swirling between us, exploding the moment my lips first touched hers. She knows how combustible it can be between us.
So why is she full of so much doubt?
“You don’t need me. You just want me to bail you out of trouble. I’ve never mattered to you. Not really.” She tilts her head away from mine when I lean in for another kiss.
“Damn it, Ivy,” I start, but she cuts me off.
“You abandoned me, Archer.” Ivy’s voice is so soft, I can hardly hear her. “I know we agreed our having sex was a mistake, but the way you touched me in the suite at Hush right before Gage texted you, I was so confused. I thought you wanted . . . oh my God, I don’t know what you want. Not really. I don’t get you. Since I left you that afternoon, you haven’t called. I haven’t heard one peep out of you, not that I expected to.” She takes a step back, withdrawing from me completely, and my arms feel empty without her in them. “This back and forth between us is . . . difficult. I can’t risk getting close to you again only for us to end it before we really gave ourselves a chance. Not that there’s an “us” . . .” Her voice trails off and her cheeks turn pink. She probably didn’t mean to admit such a thing.
Her small admission gives me hope.
“I won’t touch you. Unless you want me to.” I smile but she doesn’t return the gesture. Heaving a big sigh, I cup her cheek, briefly sliding my fingers across her soft skin before I let my hand drop away from her. I can’t help but touch her, but if she doesn’t want me to, I won’t. “I promise.”
Pressing her lips together, her hazel eyes go wide as she trembles. I draw her back into my arms, protecting her from the cold. She has to be freezing since she left her coat in the restaurant. “Let’s get out of here and you can come back to the hotel with me downtown. I have the penthouse suite and the view of the city is amazing. It’s too damn cold out here to talk.”
Ivy stiffens in my arms just before she withdraws from me yet again. “Come with you back to your hotel room? I don’t think so. Next thing I know, I’m flat on my back and you’re all over me.”
I smile. Damn, that sounds amazing. “And that’s a bad thing, why?”
“Stop, Archer. I already told you I refuse to let that happen again.” She crosses her arms in front of her, contemplating me with her shrewd gaze. “Besides, if we ever did have sex again, you’d run like you always do.”
When shit gets serious, I definitely run. But not anymore. For once, I don’t want to bail. “I can’t run any longer, Ivy. This is it. I need the new resort to open with a roaring success. I need those suites to look amazing. Together, I know we can do it.”
“Fine.” She sighs. “We need to come up with a budget. A timeline.” She taps her finger against her pursed lips, driving me wild with wanting her. Damn, she’s beautiful. Even shivering in the cold, angry with me and most likely thinking I’ve lost my damn mind, she’s gorgeous. Fucking amazing, really.
I don’t deserve her help. I don’t deserve Ivy Emerson whatsoever.
But I still want her. Desperately.
“We can plot and plan back at the hotel, Ivy,” I tell her. “Come on. I won’t try any funny business.”
A perfectly manicured brow lifts at that remark. “Promise?”
Nodding, I make an X on my chest with my index finger. “Cross my heart.”
“You swear? I can’t think when you push yourself on me, Archer. And if you want my help in figuring out how we’re going to do this, then you need me to be able to think.”
Is it wrong that I’m pleased with her remark? That she can’t think when I’m around? I love that, especially because I feel the same way.
“Come back to the suite with me, Ivy. We’ll figure this out.”
“Fine.” She offers a jerky nod. “Let’s do this.”
Sweeter words were never spoken.
Chapter Eleven
Ivy
THE PENTHOUSE SUITE is amazing, not that I expect anything less. It encompasses nearly the entire top floor of the hotel, is larger than my apartment, and has three bedrooms, which reassures me. There will be no sleeping in Archer’s bed tonight.
No matter how much I’m tempted.
I’ve stayed in more than a few Bancroft Hotels over the years, considering the Bancroft family comped my family all our rooms when we travelled, and I’ve never been disappointed. But I’ve never had any reason to stay at the Bancroft in downtown San Francisco. It’s my hometown, after all.
“You like it?” Archer shuts the door and strides toward me, his voice full of pride. Despite the burden the family business has put on him his entire life, and specifically today, I know he’s still proud of Bancroft, as he should be.
“The view is amazing.” I approach the windows, staring out at the glittering view of the city before me. The moon breaks over the fog, shining its silvery light on the bay, and I withhold the sigh of longing that’s desperate to escape me.
The beautiful suite, this gorgeous night . . . is made for lovers. I yearn for that to be true, no matter how bad I know Archer is for me.