Chapter 79 Seize the Day
Scarlett's expression remained cool. "I get it. I'm fine now, really. Don't worry about it—you guys should head out."
The group finally relaxed, seeing she genuinely held no grudge, and after they left, Scarlett pulled out her phone to text Ambrose.
"Too many people here. Pull around to the corner—I'll walk over."
Ambrose complied easily enough. Though his car had already left Culinary Haven, Scarlett still acted like a fugitive when she slipped inside, which clearly irritated him.
The moment she settled in, Ambrose—who'd had his eyes closed—suddenly fixed her with that bottomless stare of his.
"All this sneaking around. Am I some dirty little secret?"
Scarlett buckled her seatbelt and met his gaze head-on. "If my coworkers saw me with you, how am I supposed to work after that?"
Ambrose was mostly just looking for an excuse to needle her, but her response gave him fresh ammunition.
"You just want to pretend we don't exist."
Scarlett pressed her lips together, her expression unreadable.
"Look, I was planning to wait until I sorted out my own mess before having this conversation. But if you need answers right now, fine. Let's talk."
"Mr. Boleyn, from the beginning, this was purely transactional for me. You knew that. I had no other agenda." She paused. "But I never knew what your agenda was when you proposed this arrangement."
Ambrose studied her as streetlights swept across his face, casting shadows that made his eyes look even more unfathomable. When he finally spoke, his voice came out low and rough.
"You really don't know what I want?"
Scarlett caught the implication and said evenly, "If all you wanted was sex, you didn't need to go through all this trouble."
Something flickered across Ambrose's face—anger, maybe. But after a beat, he just scoffed. "So you're saying you'd sleep with me casually?"
Heat flooded Scarlett's face. She jerked her head away, sitting up ramrod straight. "In your dreams."
"See? That's why I have to work for it." Ambrose stretched out his long legs, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"The transaction is pure. Wanting to sleep with you is pure."
Scarlett got it now. He wanted both. Everything.
She'd been avoiding thinking about what they were to each other, but now that he'd laid it out so bluntly, something hardened in her chest. She made a clean cut.
"We already slept together. So from now on, it's just business."
"You were the one who wanted it that night," Ambrose said coldly. "I didn't force you into anything."
The man was playing word games. Scarlett's temper flared. She whipped back around. "You—"
Before she could finish, Ambrose leaned in close, cutting her off as his arm snaked around her waist in a grip that felt like a threat. "Remember what I said I'd do if you tried to pretend it didn't happen?"
He hauled her against him, his breath hot against her ear. "I said I'd ruin you."
Scarlett went rigid, not daring to fight back. The Ambrose she was facing right now actually seemed capable of it. His hand on her waist was crushing—like he wanted to grind her to dust.
Maybe her stillness set something off in him, because he suddenly ducked his head and kissed her—harder than he ever had before, like he was trying to consume her entirely, pull her inside himself where she couldn't escape.
Scarlett had no choice but to tilt her head back and take it. Then his hand slipped under her blouse, sliding up to cup her breast.
Her rigid body started going soft despite herself. The second he felt her yield, Ambrose pushed her down onto the seat and did exactly what he wanted.
When Scarlett felt the cool air hit her skin, reality crashed back in. Her shirt buttons were undone. She shoved at him immediately.
"Ambrose—we're in a car."
She kept her voice down, terrified the driver might hear. But Ambrose just raised the privacy partition, sealing them into their own private world.
"Cars make it more exciting."
The cold edge had left his voice, replaced by pure temptation. But Scarlett's defenses were titanium-reinforced.
"No. Not now."
Ambrose didn't care. The moment she'd said they should go their separate ways after the transaction, he'd decided he couldn't let her call the shots anymore. Sometimes you had to take what you wanted.
When Scarlett realized he wasn't stopping—that he was getting more aggressive, her clothes half-stripped away, the sound of his belt buckle unmistakable—she closed her eyes. Since there was no escaping it, she stopped struggling.
He gripped her waist and lifted her onto his lap in one smooth motion. Scarlett grabbed the raised partition for balance, head thrown back. In the darkness of the car, staring up at the starlight ceiling panel, her mouth went dry, her tongue thick.
"Let's be honest here," Ambrose murmured, watching her face. "You love how it feels when we're together. So why say things you don't mean? All that talk about going separate ways?" His voice dropped lower, coaxing. "Life's hard enough. Why not enjoy the good parts?"
He kept at it until she completely relaxed, then smiled in satisfaction.
By that point, desire had already hijacked Scarlett's better judgment. Combined with his skilled persuasion, her resistance crumbled. She let the wanting carry her straight to him.
The Bentley crawled toward Lakeside Garden, but the violent rocking inside forced the driver to pull over on a tree-lined side street. He got out for a smoke, giving them privacy to finish what they'd started.
When it was over, Scarlett lay half-sprawled across the seat, feeling like her soul had been extracted from her body. The aftershocks wouldn't stop rippling through her.
Ambrose, thoroughly satisfied, looked downright cheerful as he helped straighten her clothes. Scarlett didn't refuse—she couldn't, her whole body still trembling and weak.
Once he'd put her back together, Ambrose fixed his own clothing. Then he pulled her close and kissed the corner of her mouth.
"If you're tired, sleep. I'll wake you when we get there."
Between the alcohol and the workout, Scarlett was fading fast. She let Ambrose hold her and closed her eyes.
Seeing she was out, Ambrose lowered the partition and signaled the driver to head for Lakeside Garden.
By the time they arrived, Scarlett was dead to the world. Ambrose didn't want to wake her, so he sent the driver home and stayed in the car with her.
If she wouldn't let him sleep at her place, he'd sleep in the car. Not ideal, but he'd take what he could get.
As he held her, breathing in her scent, his mind drifted back to the conversation he'd overheard outside Culinary Haven earlier. He pulled out his phone and texted his assistant, telling him to dig into whatever had gone down in the design department tonight.
Ten minutes later, his assistant reported back about the coworkers who'd pressured Scarlett to drink.
Ambrose's brows drew together, but he didn't order any action. From the way she'd reacted about getting in his car, she clearly didn't want him interfering in her work life. Fine. He'd let her handle it. He just told his assistant to keep tabs on the design department.
He'd just darkened his phone screen, about to close his eyes, when Scarlett's phone—lying loose on the seat—suddenly lit up. He reached over and picked it up. A text notification glowed on the screen.
"Mr. Boleyn's probably a beast in bed, right? You'd better enjoy it—don't waste all those years you stayed pure."
A smile curved Ambrose's lips. Scarlett called herself dirty. Truth was, she was cleaner than anyone.
Scarlett woke sometime in the middle of the night, wanting to roll over, only to find herself trapped. Her eyes opened to darkness, dim streetlight filtering through to illuminate a face that was both peaceful and devastatingly handsome.
Ambrose?
Why was he in her room?
Wait—this wasn't her room. She looked around and realized they were still in the car.
Right. She'd fallen asleep on the way. And he'd never woken her up. She started to sit up, but the moment she moved, Ambrose stirred too.
"Awake?" His voice came out rough with sleep, dangerously seductive in the intimate space of the car.
"Yeah." She kept her voice low, her head still foggy with confusion.
"Going back to sleep?"
"I need to go inside." Scarlett kept her head down, still trying to get her bearings.
Ambrose didn't release her. Instead, he dipped his head to kiss her. The instant she realized he was gearing up for round two, she blurted out, "I'm exhausted."