The Affair (The Evolution of Sin 1)

I giggled quietly so as not to draw the attention of the other diners. “I would never have guessed.”

His resulting smirk was self-mocking. “You are too observant for your own good.”

“I’m an artist.” I shrugged, because to me, that explained everything.

He stared at me intently for a moment, his food still untouched. “You look like a piece of art.”

My eyebrows shot into my hair at the romantic thought but Sinclair abruptly pulled his hand from my thigh and turned to Candy as he tucked into his chicken mole dish. I was almost glad for his dismissal. His words continued to ring in my head. No one had ever said something like that to me and coupled with our electrifying chemistry I was worried that despite my conservative upbringing and the fact that he obviously had a girlfriend back home, I was undoubtedly going to agree to the conditions of his holiday affair.

Chapter Three.

“Did you enjoy your meal, Elle?” Sinclair’s voice wrapped around me and tugged my focus from my conversation with Richard Denman, a very interesting man with his own architecture firm in New York, to the handsome Frenchmen sitting on my other side.

For some reason, I blushed. “ Yes, very much. Thank you.”

We had made our way through four courses, ending in a rich Mexican chocolate mousse that had made me weak in the knees. I took the last rich spoonful of sugar in my mouth and closed my eyes briefly as I savored it. When I opened my eyes, Sinclair’s were blazing.

“Tell me,” he gritted out between his teeth. “What will it be, Elle?”

It took me a moment to find my breath. He was so achingly handsome that I couldn’t believe he was real, let alone that someone like him would be interested in me. His eyes narrowed at my hesitation and I laughed breathlessly at his impatience.

I straightened my spine and looked him in the eye, trying to convey the weight of my answer. “Yes.”

He blinked, as if he had misheard. “Say it again.”

“Yes.”

The grin that split his face was the first unreserved expression I had seen on his hard features since meeting him and it attracted the attention of Cage who stopped his animated storytelling, which included an air guitar, to frown at his friend.

“What’s cause for such a smile, Sin?”

“I’ve been smiling like that all night and I’d wager it’s for the same reason as Sinclair.” Richard Denman slapped a powerful hand on my back. “This is one intriguing lady.”

I tipped my head down in embarrassment but Sinclair’s hand found mine under the table and squeezed.

“Margot won’t like her, that’s for sure.” Cage guffawed at the idea even as the rest of the table shot him disapproving looks.

“His personal assistant,” Candy explained. “She’s a bit… protective.”

“Nothing will do it for that woman unless it’s Sin. Not even me,” Cage divulged with a wicked wink that made my heart sink further.

And he had a girlfriend back home. I wondered what these people thought of the arrangement; if they knew that Sinclair had decided to take me as a lover or if, perhaps, this was routine for him when abroad.

He must have caught the apprehension on my face because suddenly, he was standing, pulling me with him. “Goodnight, everyone.”

No one batted an eye at his rude farewell and we were already walking away when they began to call their own goodbyes. I tried to wave at them and smile but Sinclair’s long legs ate up the ground and I finally just gave up.

“That wasn’t very nice,” I pointed out as we emerged from the restaurant onto the torch-lined path to the rooms.

“I don’t have the tim

e to be nice,” he said as we made our way swiftly through the lobby.

“Oh.” I was struggling to keep up with his brisk pace and my quip was slightly breathless as a result. “But you have time to cheat on your girlfriend?”

There was barely a hitch in his stride but a muscle in his jaw ticked menacingly. He maintained an arctic silence as we took the elevator up to the top floor. I bit my lip, nervous that I had overstepped my bounds but angry with myself for succumbing to his charms. Whatever conflicting feelings I may have had fled when he opened the door to his room.

Glass doors dominated the entire far wall of the cream colored living room, exposing the obsidian waves of the Pacific lacquered by the moonlight as they rolled gracefully into the shore. I moved immediately to the sight, inexorably drawn to the power of the scene. Even as the beauty overwhelmed me, I was aware of Sinclair a step behind me. It felt almost like he was indulging me, allowing me to enjoy the view for a moment before the icy cold of the elevator ride descended once more.