His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 324

After a long time, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. His Adam's apple bobbed, his voice incredibly hoarse. "Go inside and rest."

Night fell. The summer nights in the United Kingdom were just as stiflingly hot as those in the United States.

Fresh out of the shower, Virginia changed into a silk slip dress and sat comfortably on the living room sofa, flipping through an English medical journal.

The suite doorbell rang.

She set the journal aside and walked over to open the door.

Archer stood in the hallway.

The man had clearly just showered. He wore a black silk V-neck robe, the belt tied loosely around his waist.

His collar was thrown wide open, revealing a broad, firm expanse of pale chest. A few stray water droplets slid down his jawline, traveling past his throat before disappearing into his sharp collarbones.

Virginia was used to his usual untouchable, icy demeanor, so this half-dressed, incredibly seductive look instantly caught her off guard.

She cleared her throat and looked away, keeping her eyes down. "Did you need something, boss?"

"Bringing you milk." Archer handed her a glass of warm milk, his gaze locking directly onto her bare neck, collarbones, and smooth shoulders.

When he noticed the two thin straps looking as though they could slip off at any second, his eyes grew heavy.

"Virginia, I..."

He fought down the heat rising in his blood, his fingers tightening around the glass as an overwhelming longing surged in his eyes.

Virginia quickly took the glass, muttered a quick "Thanks," and hurried to shut the door.

No one knew it, but she really had been tempted by his looks. She just managed to restrain herself.

The door clicked shut in his face.

The view was spectacular, with the sweeping scenery of the Seine laid out below and the soothing sounds of a live violin floating through the air.

The waiter handed over a gold-embossed menu, but Archer didn't take it. He simply ordered a few dishes in perfect English, then firmly emphasized, "Make sure every dish is completely free of seafood and dairy. Not a single trace."

The waiter bowed respectfully and left.

The main course arrived—a plate of top-tier Wagyu beef.

Archer smoothly pulled Virginia's plate toward him.

His long fingers grasped the silverware, his cutting motions elegant and practiced. In no time, the steak was sliced into perfectly even, bite-sized cubes.

He pushed the plate back to her. "Eat."

Virginia didn't put on a show of refusing. Instead, she picked up her fork, skewered a piece, and took a bite.