Page 23 of Arrow

“We’ve just met, actually. In the bathroom, of all places,” I smiled sweetly, and when I realized she wasn’t planning on getting out of my seat, I took matters into my own hands.

I sat on Arrow’s lap, my movements deliberately languid as I draped myself across his muscular thighs. His body stiffened beneath me, the momentary surprise quickly masked by that infuriating control. His hand settled on my waist, his touch burning through the thin fabric of my dress.

“Arrow and I were just discussing our wedding rings. Did he tell you about the engraving? It’s quite intimate.”

His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly against my hip. I felt the tension radiating through his body, his thighs like steel beneath me. The possessive gesture wasn’t lost on Katerina, whose smile faltered for a fraction of a second.

“How lovely,” she said, her voice brittle as glass. “Though I’m surprised Arrow’s settling for something so conventional.” Her eyes flicked to him. “Marriage never seemed your style.”

I leaned back against Arrow’s chest, a calculated move that brought my head just beneath his chin. “People change.” My voice dripped with honey. “Don’t they, darling?”

The endearment felt like acid on my tongue, but the flash of rage in Katerina’s eyes made it worthwhile. Arrow’s free hand came up to brush a strand of hair from my face, the gesture so intimate I nearly forgot this was all performance.

“Some things are worth changing for,” he said, his voice a low rumble that I felt more than heard.

His breath ghosted against my ear, sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine. I fought the urge to pull away, reminding myself this was just a power play. Nothing more.

Katerina stood abruptly. “Well, I should leave you two lovebirds to your lunch. Wouldn’t want to intrude on such domestic bliss.” She leaned down to kiss Arrow’s cheek, lingering just a second too long. “Call me when you get bored, Arrow. You always do.”

She sauntered away, hips swaying deliberately, and I immediately tried to slide off Arrow’s lap. His arm tightened around my waist, holding me in place.

“Stay,” he commanded, his mouth against my ear. “Until she’s gone.”

I stiffened but remained where I was, acutely aware of his body beneath mine, the solid wall of his chest against my back. Through the restaurant window, I watched Katerina climb into a sleek silver car.

“You can release me now,” I said, my voice tight. “Your girlfriend is gone.”

His chuckle vibrated against my back. “Katerina was never my girlfriend.”

“Just one of your many conquests then,” I replied, finally extricating myself from his grip and sliding into my chair. My skin burned where he’d touched me.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Harlowe.”

He picked up his fork and resumed eating as if nothing had happened.

I poked at my food. “Trust me, jealousy isn’t what I’m feeling. This is contempt.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” He took a sip of wine, watching me over the rim of his glass. “Eat.”

I forced myself to lift my fork. The sea bass was perfectly cooked, tender, and flaking beneath the tines. I couldn’t deny my hunger anymore. With every bite, his gaze stayed on me, studying me like I was a puzzle he was determined to solve.

“Why her?” I finally asked, setting my fork down.

“Why who?” He cut into his duck with precise movements, each slice exactly the same width.

“Katerina. Why did you sleep with her?” I didn’t know why I cared. I told myself it was just intelligence gathering—knowing your enemy’s preferences.

His eyes met mine. “I didn’t say I did.”

“You didn’t deny it either.”

That earned me a slight smile.

“Does it matter?”

“I’m just trying to understand what kind of man I’m being forced to marry.” I took a deliberate sip of wine. “The kind who fucks his friends’ daughters? The kind who keeps a harem of desperate socialites?”

“The kind who understands the difference between fucking and ownership,” he said, his voice so low I had to lean forward to hear it. “Sex is temporary. Marriage is permanent.”