His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 283

Virginia paused for a moment before stepping over to the accessories section.

Her gaze swept across rows of ties, eventually landing on a dark gray silk one woven with a subtle silver pattern.

The color was understated, and the texture was impeccable—it perfectly matched Archer Vanderbilt's cold, untouchable aura.

More importantly, all of his suits were bespoke. If she bought a ready-to-wear suit off the rack, he likely wouldn't even wear it.

"I'll take this one," she said, pointing to the tie.

Helena glanced at it. Though slightly disappointed it wasn't a bigger gesture, she still nodded with a beaming smile. "You have great taste, Ginny. Archer will definitely love it."

Oh well, there was plenty of time for them to grow closer!

...

In the living room of the South Hill estate.

Virginia placed the luxury shopping bag on the coffee table and pulled out the dark gray silk tie.

Archer had just wrapped up a multinational video conference and walked out of his study. His eyes instantly locked onto the tie, his footsteps faltering slightly before he strode directly toward her.

"Did you buy that for me?"

His voice was low, laced with a trace of genuine surprise.

Virginia nodded. "Well, Helena insisted I pick something out. She said your wardrobe is too plain."

Archer didn't respond. His long fingers pinched the fabric, gently tracing the textured pattern. Then, he held the tie out to her, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

"Put it on me."

Virginia froze, her first instinct to refuse. But as she looked at his devastatingly handsome, stoic face and those hopeful eyes that starkly contrasted his usual demeanor, she swallowed the rejection.

She took a step forward, instantly closing the gap between them.

Reaching up, she draped the silk fabric around the back of his neck.

To make it easier for her, Archer leaned down slightly. The shift in height meant their breaths inevitably tangled together.

It wasn't aggressive; it was pure, intoxicating technique that short-circuited her brain and sent a wave of heat coursing through her veins.

He gently rolled her lower lip between his, his tongue parting her teeth to thoroughly map every inch of her mouth.

One hand anchored her waist while the other cupped the back of her head, angling her up to completely surrender to the deep kiss.

Breathless, Virginia pressed her hands flat against his chest, her fingers blindly gripping the fabric of his dress shirt.

The sheer magnetism of the moment—equal parts intense restraint and desperate hunger—made her knees weak.

Just as the temperature between them hit a boiling point, and Archer's wandering hand slipped toward the hem of her shirt, the front door clicked open.

"Ginny, my concert is over..."

Miles Sutton strolled in casually, a guitar strapped to his back and two iced americanos in hand.

The moment he took in the scene in the living room, his voice died in his throat.