Gage glances at me and I glare back. Oh hell, no. I’m not staying the night at Archer’s house. “I want to get home,” I whisper.
“It’s almost midnight,” Gage whispers back. “We won’t get back till past two, knowing traffic. I’m beat, Ive.”
“I’ll drive,” I insist. “I’m wide awake. I can make it.”
He raises a brow. “Like I’d let you drive my car. Give me break. You’re a hazard behind the wheel.”
I roll my eyes. One minor fender bender when I was seventeen and he never, ever lets me live it down. “I won’t wreck, I swear.”
“It’s my Maserati. No way am I letting you drive it.” Gage slowly shakes his head.
He wants to stay. I can tell by the look in his eyes. “Gage, no.”
“I have plenty of bedrooms,” Archer says, his voice hopeful.
I don’t want to acknowledge him. Really, I don’t. The more I think about what he did, the angrier I get. He said he would never touch me, all incredulous-like. As if he couldn’t fathom me as anything but silly, gangly, awkward Ivy the teenage loser. What a jerk. After he just had his hand in my panties and begged me to stay the night with him . . .
Finally I chance a look at him. God, he’s gorgeous. His suit is rumpled, his tie askew, his hair a mess. From my fingers. His lips are a little swollen and I remember how he kissed me, his taste, the sounds he made, the way he growled in my ear. Just like that I’m lightheaded and the feeling alone makes me want to slap myself back into reality.
Or maybe slap him for being so damn good at . . . everything.
Ugh.
“Come on,” Gage says, nudging my side with his elbow. “We’ll stay the night, grab brunch at that fancy hotel of his in the morning and then be on our way.”
Hmm, I’ve never been to Hush. The chance to see it intrigues me but it shouldn’t. Not after everything that’s happened between us. “I have to get home. I have to . . . work.”
“On a Sunday?” Gage sounds skeptical. Damn him. “Someone wants to have an emergency wallpaper meeting or what?”
Oh my God, I want to punch my brother so hard. I’d relish seeing him fall on his ass.
“Gage, shut the hell up. She probably does have to work,” Archer says in my defense, which surprises me.
This is the guy who wanted me to come back to his place so he could get me naked in his bed. Maybe he has ulterior motives. Maybe he’ll sneak into my room after Gage falls asleep and strip me and press me into the mattress and . . .
I frown, my hands tightening into fists. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want him, especially after the way he spoke about me as if I don’t matter to him.
But my body is singing a different song. As in, my skin is still humming after that amazing orgasm and my legs are a little shaky. Not from the stupid shoes with the four-inch heels either.
No, more like from the stupid man.
“Fine. We’ll stay.” I cross my arms in front of my chest. I probably look like a pouty baby but I don’t really care. I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. “But we wake up, we grab brunch, and we get out of here. I really need to get back.”
“Thanks, sis.” Gage grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing the back of it quickly. “You just saved me from an exhausting drive home.”
“Such a hardship since you’re driving that precious car of yours.” Cars are Gage’s weakness. He owns too many of them. His addiction is so ridiculous his garage looks like an exclusive, high-end dealership.
“Glad you two are staying. I have guest rooms that are always prepared,” Archer says.
I turn to glare at him once more, both uncomfortable and aroused at all the potential that comes with staying at his house. I’m sick in the head. I have to be to even consider . . . no, I can’t go there. I blame the champagne. And the amazing orgasm. “You better be on your best behavior.”
He throws up his hands in defense. “No funny business, I swear. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“You better, Bancroft, or I’ll kick your ass,” Gage mutters, his words backed with steel. “Ivy is hands-off when it comes to you.”
“I get it,” Archer says, slowly dropping his arms to his sides. The slight smirk falls from his face and his eyes meet mine, his gaze imploring. I’m not sure what he’s trying to communicate, but I do know one thing.
When it comes to Archer and whatever’s happening between us, I’m beyond confused.
Chapter Four
Ivy
HIS HOUSE IS amazing of course. I’ve been in plenty of beautiful homes in my life. My parents still reside in the palatial house Gage and I grew up in. It’s older but large, and has all the warm, lived-in touches that our mom has added through the years. It’s nothing compared to the modern, spacious, perfectly designed house Archer lives in in the heart of the Napa Valley.
Not that I can see much of it, considering the late hour. The interior is shrouded mostly in darkness, with only the occasional lamp turned on, but from what I can see it’s beautiful. Sleek and simple, yet warm.
Archer leads Gage and me through the wide hallway toward the guest wing, as he calls it. One wall is made entirely of glass and I can make out a giant pool in the backyard, surrounded by lush, perfectly manicured landscaping that looks like something out of a park.
The man certainly knows how to live, I’ll give him that.