Chapter 3: Pros and Cons

Ruby's POV

One minute, we’re talking, and the next, I can’t get enough of him. I run my hand through his hair and sigh into his kiss. Archer kisses like a god. He tastes like sunshine and sin. His body pressed against mine is sculpted, and I can’t feel an ounce of fat.

Kissing him is a revelation; it feels as good as I remember. It isn’t the drink; it’s us.

He moves me until my back is against the dining table. Neither of us wants to stop the kiss. I hop on the table, kicking off my heels, and he walks in between them, pressing his center to mine.

“Archer,” I moan loudly as I run my hand down his back. I arch my back and rub against his erection, then wrap my legs around his back.

He kisses my jawline down to my collarbone, then my neck, where he suckles on the spot where my pulse runs.

He grinds his erection into me, and I gasp. He’s so hard and hot. I drag his lips back to mine and continue our kiss.

His hand goes to my thighs and moves up steadily. Just as he presses on the spot where I’m arching and wet, we hear footsteps approaching. I quickly push him backward and come down from the table when my Papa walks in.

Papa raises his eyebrows in surprise at how close we were standing, probably looking like we just had sex.

“Hope I’m not disturbing?” He asks with the look of mischief in his eyes, letting me know that he has an idea of what kind of discussion we were having, and he isn’t fooled.

Archer clears his throat. “Not at all, Aolo,” he replies, while I stand there with lips probably kissed swollen and without my heels. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Caught in the act by my father. Jesus Christ.

“Well, Goodnight Archer. Ruby will see you out,” He turns to walk away and closes the dining door behind him, wanting to give us some privacy. I’m sure my Papa would not mind if I got pregnant at this stage. I sigh.

“That was close,” Archer chuckles.

“Yeah. And embarrassing,” I complain and drop my face into my hands.

Archer laughs, and I raise my head to look at him. He looks so good, no wonder I lost my mind for a minute and made out with him where anyone could see us.

“It’s okay, Ruby. We’re getting married,” Archer takes my hands in his as he tries to assure me. “Or are you embarrassed of me?” He asks.

I look at him with narrowed eyes. Archer cannot be feeling insecure, could he?

“No, I’m not embarrassed of you. It was the situation, that’s all.”

“Good,” He nods. “Good.”

I inhale and move closer to him, like metal to a magnet. His pull is so strong. “I really want to get to know you first before we wed, Archer. It’s important to me.”

“Of course, Ruby.”

I can’t control this need any longer. I raise my head to his neck and pull him to me as I go on my tiptoes and kiss him.

We kiss for so long that I lose track of time. When we finally break apart, we’re breathing so hard, like we just finished a marathon. Our foreheads press together, and our eyes lock on each other’s.

We burst out laughing. When we come down from the high, Archer sighs and kisses my forehead. He hugs me and places his chin on my head.

“See me out?” He asks quietly.

“Okay,” I whisper.

He takes hold of my hand as we walk to the lawn where his car is parked. He stops and looks at me.

“I’m really glad it’s you,” he says without explanation because I know he means he’s glad it’s me he’s getting married to. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you since that night. Finding out you’re my bride-to-be, it makes it worth it.”

I look into his sincere eyes, “I’m glad it was you. I was surprised at first, but I’m glad,” I assure him.

He gathers me close with his hands on my waist and kisses me.

“Goodnight, Ruby.”

“Goodnight, Archer.”

I step out of his hands and watch him get into his car and zoom off. As I turn to walk inside, I see Papa watching us from the window of his study.

I shake my head and giggle. Papa must be so happy with himself to see that Archer and I get along so well.

That night, as I lie in bed, I can’t help but think about Archer. Should I refuse to marry Archer now that I know who he is because of my father?

Should I just be grateful that it’s Archer I’m getting married to and accept my fate? How did I forget about Diavolo so soon? Was Papa right? Or am I just fickle in nature?

“Ah!” I pick up a pillow and scream into it. All these thoughts running through my head are causing a headache.

My phone vibrates to announce a text message. I grab it.

Hey, stranger.

“Huh,” I wonder who that is and conclude it must be a wrong number. Just as I’m about to put down the phone, it vibrates again.

It’s Archer, by the way. Got your number from your dad.

I burst out in laughter.

Hey.

I hope I didn’t wake you up.

I wasn’t sleeping yet.

I couldn’t sleep either. I can’t stop thinking about you.

That gets me blushing furiously.

Me neither.

Can I call you?

Yes.

I’ve barely sent the message before my phone rings, and I pick it up.

“Hey,” his voice sounds husky. I shiver.

“Hi,”

“Thinking about me too, huh?”

“It was mutual,” I reply, covering myself entirely with the duvet, then I close my eyes. It makes it feel like he’s with me.

“Our thoughts sync. That should go into your con list,” he advises, picking up the conversation from earlier.

“Definitely,” I say solemnly while trying not to giggle.

“And while you’re making your list, you should add good-looking, smoking hot, good genes, and intelligence too, just to mention a few,” he supplies. I can’t hold it anymore and burst out laughing.

“Thank you for the comments; I’ll take it into consideration as I work on my list,” I respond.

“You’re welcome. Although, I think you’re going to have a problem with the Pro column,” he informs me.

“Why?” I ask breathlessly.

“Because I’m perfect, of course,” he says boldly.

Another round of laughter rolls out of me, and he joins me.

“God, I love the way you laugh,” he says, sounding breathless, and quickly the mood changes. Or maybe it didn’t change, more like we’ve been trying not to address the tension between us.

“Archer,” I moan.

“I know. I just wanted to hear your voice tonight. Goodnight, Ruby.”

“Goodnight, Archer.” The phone goes silent. I guess I needed to hear his voice too.

I reach across my bed and open the drawer to get a note and a pen. Sitting up, I make a list.

He was right; I don’t really have anything against him. I fall asleep thinking about him.

Waking up from a good night’s sleep, I stretch and fall back to bed.

I’m going through my schedule for the day when someone knocks on my door and Maria walks in. That’s weird. Everybody in the house knows not to wake me up. I usually just go downstairs whenever I wake up.

“Signorina, a package came for you. You need to sign the delivery.” “Package for me?” I repeat in surprise. I pick up my robe hanging on the chair and wear it.

The moment I enter the living room, I’m amazed.

There are thousands of red roses in my living room. I’ve never seen anything like it before. They smell divine and look fresh. I’m speechless.

Nobody has ever done anything like this for me before. Nobody. “What’s the noise about?” Papa asks gruffly, coming from his room. When he sees the reason for our gathering, he stops, then smiles smugly to himself.

“Bambino?” He asks. “Is this from Archer?” “I think so, Papa,” I reply.

The delivery man gives me a form to sign, and I do. That’s when I notice a card sticking out of one of the vases containing the roses. I pick it up and open it. The roses are definitely from Archer. I blush.

“It’s from Archer, Papa,” folding the note and holding it tight. The content was for my eyes only.

“Ah, I knew he was a good one. I did good, didn’t I?” He asks suspiciously. “Yes, you did, Papa.”

I touch the roses and feel how soft they are. Archer didn’t have to send these roses; he didn’t have to try to woo me again. My father has all but finalized the marriage, my say wasn’t needed. The thought that he went to this large extent just endeared him to me more.

“He’s a good man, Bambino; he will take care of you and give you what you deserve,” he states.

The delivery van drives away, and the workers go back to their various posts. I hear a couple of sighs as they go.

“I know, Papa,” I say softly, still trying to wrap my head around this gesture.

“Then you will marry him?”