Chapter Eighteen

OLLIE

I woke late the following morning to a gloomy day of low, grey clouds and rain. The complete opposite of my mood. Now my shock was gone and the memory of trauma fading, all I could think was that Archer had kissed me and how wonderful he'd been, bringing me the candlesticks. And he'd kissed me.

At last, I knew he wanted me. There was no way I was going to let this go. I just had to find a way to dismantle that stupid, misguided sense of honour he had about not sleeping with me because he was a family head.

I decided I'd grown hardy enough not to need a fleece. Instead, I wore one of my new crop tops and took extra care over my hair before going down for breakfast.

All to no avail. The kitchen was empty, a mug and plate by the sink suggesting that either Archer or Tim had already breakfasted. Damn. I couldn't go and interrupt Archer when he was working, not after he'd given me so much of his afternoon yesterday. I slipped back upstairs to change into something more practical—and warmer—and went to help Tim in the kitchen garden.

As lunchtime neared, I headed back to the house early, before Mia had a chance to take Archer his lunch. I was determined to thank him for last night. I'd returned the candlesticks reluctantly to their home before breakfast, promising them a polish very soon.

To my crushing disappointment, as I neared Archer's workshop with his lunch, I saw a big van parked in the stable yard and Archer talking to someone.

He nodded at me as he asked me to leave the plate by the workshop door, but he was deep in discussion about the minimal clearance needed to accommodate a six-foot wingspan.

Just a nod, not even a smile. He was evidently thinking of something else, but he was back to how he'd been at the beginning, closed off and stern. Was it about that kiss? He'd said it should never have happened.

Sod that. I'd tasted Archer now, and I couldn't go another day of my life without tasting him again. Everything about him had been overwhelming, in the best way possible. His large, warm body had been plastered against me, his tongue had been deep in my mouth, his hand on my arse pressing me even closer to his hard cock, and it was the middle of the day and I was about to walk into the house where Archer's siblings were and I was getting a boner. What was I, fifteen years old?

I turned on my heel to walk in the gardens until I'd calmed down. I'd need to get him on his own again so we could talk about last night. Or, much better, skip any talking and go straight back to the bit where his cock was pressing eagerly against me and his tongue was fucking my mouth.

Those thoughts were not helping me calm down. Maybe I should jump in the moat and hope the cold water did the trick.

ARCHER

I'd been dreading seeing Ollie again. I wasn't sure which would be worse—for him still to be fragile from last night, or for him to be back to his usual happy, hopeful self, expecting something from me that I couldn't give. No, I did know. The last thing I wanted was for Ollie ever to be desperate and hurting again.

I didn't know how to take those hopeful eyes looking at me when I had to cut this off. Last night, I'd given in. I couldn't remember the last time I'd played. Not since I was a dragonet, I thought. Puberty had brought a realisation of how hard Dad had been hitting the family finances and how much he was sleeping around, though I wasn't sure if Mum had ever known about either of those things.

But last night, with Ollie, had been carefree and fun. It had also been charged with a tension that led me to kiss him. My dragon had been urging me, telling me he was ours , and I hadn't been able to resist.

When Bhavanjot arrived later than he'd said, I could have wept with gratitude. I made transporting the eagle more of an issue than it needed to be, but I knew Ollie would be along any minute, with the excuse of bringing me lunch.

Ollie was, I saw with relief, back to his usual self, though disappointment blossomed on his face when he saw I was busy. God, had I ever been that easy to read? He wore his heart on his sleeve. And that was part of what made him Ollie, because his heart was open and joyful. When he met my family, I'd seen the way everyone responded to him. It was almost impossible not to smile when he was around.

That was another reason why I couldn't let this thing between us go any further. I wouldn't be responsible for dimming that happiness, and if he spent too long around me, that would happen. I had to be constantly vigilant, ensuring my family's safety, and that carried a cost. One that ground joy out of life, and I'd never subject Ollie to that.

OLLIE

The sun came out after lunch, tempting me to explore the gardens more fully. Saving the best for last, I turned my back on the maze and headed for the stone wall surrounding the grounds, intending to walk around the boundary.

Further away from the house, the land looked like pastureland, with some woodland. It was all neglected—or a wildlife haven, depending on your attitude.

After half an hour of walking, I realised there wasn't much to see, so I turned into the wood and followed the path that led back towards the house.

I emerged into what had evidently at some point been formal gardens. There were three different areas set off by high hedges in dire need of cutting. One garden was filled with rose bushes that looked as if they were tended to, at least; the other two had been left to go to ruin. One of them contained a wooden house on a pole. It puzzled me until a white bird fluttered out of the opening, and I realised the house was a dovecote.

This place must have been amazing in its heyday, with minstrels playing lutes as they strolled around beautifully kept gardens, peacocks parading their tails and doves cooing gently. I crunched along the sparsely gravelled path back towards the house to grab a cup of tea before tackling the maze that was waiting for me. It would never get old, having to cross a moat to get to the house. I took some pictures and sent one to Jack.

Kind of feeling like Rapunzel here , I told him.

I'd just finished my tea when he replied. Think you'll find that was a tower not a moat.

Damn know-it-all. I stood in the doorway, and zoomed in on the folly in the distance. You were saying?

Smartarse .

The only maze I'd been in was a kiddie one with knee-high hedges. Mum had merrily shepherded eighteen-year-old me off to explore it as if I were five. In the end, I'd got to the middle by climbing over the hedges. Perhaps I should have remembered that, because it turned out that I was bad at mazes.

Like, awesomely bad.

The sun was going down, and I still hadn't found the centre. Neither had I found my way out. Dark hedges towered over me. What had started out as fun had turned into dead-end after foreboding dead-end, and some of them I knew I'd been to before. I'd probably visited most of them multiple times because the maze couldn't be as big as it felt.

Help I texted Mia pathetically.

Maze?

That or an enchanted forest. Can't tell any more. Think the hedges want to eat me.

Stay where you are. Help's on the way .

I heaved a sigh and sat on the damp grass, trying not to feel an absolute idiot. I bet the Talbots knew this place by heart and supper tonight would be full of comments about how a-maze-ing the food was or how Tim had hit a dead-end with his garden while Mia was hedging her bets.

Suddenly annoyed, I got to my feet. I'd have one last go at this damn thing—it wasn't going to defeat me. I turned left and found another dead end. Turned right again, and this time took the first right. And oh my God, there was an open area with a pond!

In the middle of the pond stood a stone statue of a dolphin that looked as if it once had water coming out of its mouth in a fountain. I took a picture for proof I'd made it. I didn't know how to get out, but at least I hadn't failed completely. Archer wouldn't think I was a total loser.

I'm in the centre, I texted, and sat on the stone edging of the pond to wait for rescue.

It came not in the shape of Mia but a conquering hero in tight jeans and boots. Archer strode into the centre of the maze like he owned it—which, on reflection, he did—and I wanted nothing more than to cast myself onto his manly bosom and have him hold me while I sobbed out my relief at him for saving me. Maybe I'd internalised the Disney princess theme a little too much. Or maybe it was the memory of last night and how comforting his strong arms had been when my world was falling apart.

His face was stern, and he looked preoccupied, but when I stood up and grinned my relief at him, his eyes warmed.

"You did well reaching the centre," he told me.

"Tell me about it. I still can't work out how I didn't trip over skeletons of the hundreds of other people who must have got lost in here."

"We chuck the skeletons in the moat," he said.

I laughed, not so much at his words as the way his eyes crinkled at the corners in humour. When he was being the head of the family, he did things to my dick, but when he was being Archer, he did things to my heart.

"Archer," I said, as he turned away to lead me out of the maze. He swung back, his expression suddenly cautious. "Thank you for last night. I don't know how you knew what to do, but you made everything so much better. I put the candlesticks back this morning," I told him, remembering Mia's joke and the way I'd wanted to keep them.

"You can hold onto them longer if you need to," he said, and my breath rushed out of me in unexpected relief.

"Are you okay?" He moved forward and cupped his hand to my cheek, looking deep into my eyes, searching for the truth.

I couldn't even remember what he'd said. The only thing I was aware of was his large hand, radiating warmth, the contrast of rough calluses and softer skin igniting every nerve ending in my cheek. I turned my head and pressed a kiss into his palm.

He sucked in a sharp breath, but he didn't draw away. I realised he was trembling. Archer Talbot was trembling, and it was because of me. I couldn't tell what was uppermost in my thoughts—lust or this ridiculously soft feeling that he brought out in me. All I knew was that he was touching me.

I was scared to move or say anything, in case it drove him away.