He smirks at the ‘servants’ line. “Well, there’s a bit more to it than that.” I raise an eyebrow and his eyes sparkle as he winks at me. “It’s not just the money.”
Oh really.
“Well, what then?” I’m getting tired of feeling like he’s playing with me, especially since in my head he’s playing with me in a very different way and it’s distracting me to the point of anxiousness.
“You’re pissing a lot of people off with your platform.” He says the words carefully, as if choosing them before he utters them.
“I’m making a lot of people happy with my platform, which is why I’m way ahead in the polls, actually.” Now it’s my turn to be smug as I sit back and sip on my wine.
He turns to face me fully, his face the most serious I’ve seen from him yet. “Let’s just say that there are things out there that you don’t see that I do.” His eyes drop to the front of my gown and he grins for just a hair of a second; just long enough to tell me he can see how erect my nipples are before he drags his eyes back up to mine.
I roll my eyes. “You know, those of us who don’t make a buck selling guns to third-world war-zones have a slightly more positive outlook on the world.” Ok I’ll admit I need my father’s company’s money, but I don’t need Hudson’s negativity packaged along with it.
He wraps his soft lips around his straw and sucks gently, his eyes never leaving mine as he sips on his Shirley Temple, and it’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen involving grenadine. I feel an aching pull deep inside that brings a fresh flush to my cheeks, and I can feel my nipples hardening beneath my gown even more despite the warmth of the room. God damn you, Hudson Banks.
“Well, those of us who have been around those third-world war zones don’t have the luxury of that fantasy, which is why I’ll be sticking around to make sure you’re ok.”
I frown. “Excuse me?”
“Me, around. I’m going to be watching you during the campaign.” He grins, and the motion pulls the skin of his neck just enough that I catch another glimpse of the dark ink there just under his collar, and I’m instantly fascinated with knowing what else is under that shirt before I shake the thought from my head. “Maybe you should think of it as less someone watching you and more just Archer Holdings looking after its investment.” He arches his brow as he sips at his Shirley Temple. “Which is you, in this scenario.”
I can feel my blood begin to boil as I struggle to keep my temper in check. “You can’t be serious,” I mutter to him through gritted teeth. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
Hudson shrugs nonchalantly, that smug look never leaving his face. “Well, agree to disagree then.”
I can feel the heat rising in my face to match the growing volume of my voice. “I’m serious, Hudson, I’m not doing this. I’ll call Dona-“
“Donald agrees with me, actually.”
Dammit; this is a setup. Donald’s not worried about something happening to me, he’s worried about me going off his by-the-book script and doing something to shake up the campaign in a way he can’t control. Hudson might think he needs to “protect me” or whatever, but I know the real reason for all this is so Donald can have someone babysit me.
Fuck that.
I’m out of my seat and storming across the room before Hudson can put down his stupid kids drink. At the front door, I feel his strong hand grab my arm, pulling me around. “Relax, Reag-”
“Do not tell me to ‘relax’!” I hate when people say that to me.”
“Fine, don’t relax then!” His voice is stoney, even though he’s still got that stupid smug look on his chiseled jaw. “Look, where are you going?”
God, the nannying starts already.
“Home, Hudson. I’m going home.” I yank my arm out of his grasp and turn back towards the door.
“I’ll drive yo-”
“I’m taking the train or a cab like a normal person.” I spit at him.
“Fine, I’ll meet you there then I guess.”
I freeze. “What do you mean?”
He frowns. “Didn’t Donald tell- Oh. Fuck.” He chuckles and looks at the floor, a lock of his dark hair falling over his face. He runs a hand up through it and pushed it back as he raises his eye to look at me with that smug grin I’d just started to forget about. “Well, if you were mad before, you’re gonna be fuckin pissed now.”
I shake my head. “Hudson what the fuck are you-”
“I’m moving in, Reagan.”