The Affair (The Evolution of Sin 1)

“Good. Now, I’d like you to accompany me to a business party I have to attend tonight.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t expected that.

Detecting my disappointment, his grin widened. “Trust me, Elle, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of the day in bed with you but duty calls. I promise to make the wait up to you.”

I blushed, embarrassed that he had discovered my eagerness but his smoky laugh made me smile too.

“I have some work to do and I realize I interrupted your sunbathing. I’ll meet you in the lobby at eight.” It wasn’t really a question but he waited for me to nodded before he stood to leave.

He hesitated for a mom

ent before leaning down to brush a swift kiss to my cheek. “Until then.”

I sat there after he left, stunned by the turn my vacation had taken. Brenna had sent me to Mexico to relax, the only person who knew why I was so hastily leaving my beloved Paris, and here I was, more stimulated than I had ever been in my life. With a large sigh, I flopped back against the chaise lounge and closed my eyes. I knew next to nothing about the devastatingly handsome Frenchman but already I was hooked.

Chapter Five.

The home of Santiago Herrera was the kind of place I had only ever seen in movies about drug cartels. It was a low, sprawling building made of butter yellow stucco and roofed with the traditional red tiles but that was where the classic Spanish style ended. The interior was modern day opulence. The kitchen, which I had accidently wandered into after getting lost on the way back to the reception from the bathroom, was larger than most restaurants and the bathroom had boasted a talking toilet. We had been at the party for two hours and Candy had assured me I’d only seen one quarter of the massive home. I found it all a little bit off-putting, the modernity was something out of a science fiction book, and by the time I found Sinclair, I was a little flustered.

It was hard to believe the movie star handsome man sitting at the bar was waiting for me. Sinclair wore light grey trousers and a deep blue dress shirt with a cobalt blue tie that matched his eyes. He had discarded his jacket at the door even though most of the men at the party were dressed more formally in suit jackets and tails. I preferred his look and so too, it seemed, did the slinky brunette leaning against the bar so closely to him. He seemed unperturbed by her attentions but his expression was only politely interested and he turned his head briefly to check the hallway leading back from the washrooms. I smiled and as if he had sensed it, he froze, his glass suspended between his lips and the bar. I held my breath as he slowly turned his head¸ unerringly finding me across the large, crowded floor. I could feel his eyes scorch a path of fire across my body and when his gaze finally met mine, they were heated with want.

I had worried the whole afternoon about what I should wear to a Mexican soiree but the minute I had seen Sinclair’s reaction to the dress, I knew I had chosen well. The gossamer thin fabric draped itself elegantly across my shoulders and crossed over my breasts, exposing a deep slice of plump cleavage. The soft lavender color suited my sun kissed skin and auburn hair, which I had left simple, curling softly down my back.

Sinclair strode forward without noticing the sour expression on the face of the now lonely brunette at the bar and brushed a chaste kiss against my cheek. “You look lovely, Elle.”

“So do you,” I murmured after dragging in a deep lungful of his leathery scent.

His smile was small, his conservatism back in place after the more playful man I had seen by the pool that afternoon. “Thank you. I was worried you had run away when you didn’t come back straight away.”

“I got lost,” I explained with a small laugh. “I don’t have the best sense of directions and this is a big house.”

“Of course.” He allowed smoothly, his hand on the small of my back as he moved us out of the way of foot traffic and into a more private corner of the room. “I should have texted you the floor plans.”

I looked over at him sharply to see if he was teasing. “Would you have?”

His expression was practically inscrutable but I was beginning to know where to look for telling signs of emotion, in his sharply cut jaw and expressive brows. I was about to tease him when someone called his name from across the floor and started over to us.

My smile slipped slightly but Sinclair pressed his palm to the small of my spine and leaned in to whisper, “Poor girl, you were hoping for a more exciting evening, weren’t you?”

“This is delightful, Sinclair, really.” I gestured to the opulent surroundings and the glittering Mexican magnates littering the hall like discarded jewels. “I’ve never been to an event like this before.”

“I wish I could say the same.” His hand was warm on my hip as he tucked me into his side but his smile was gone, replaced with his normal implacable mask as the guest arrived at our side. “Santiago, it’s good to see you again.”

Santiago Herrera was younger than I had imagined, with thick black hair slicked back from his broad forehead to reveal large obsidian eyes. He wore a burgundy dinner jacket and shoes with tassels. Despite his obscene wealth, there was something amazingly approachable about his demeanor.

“And the same to you, my friend.” He took Sinclair’s hand and turned immediately to me. “Please, introduce me to your lovely date. It’s not often I have the pleasure of meeting a beautiful redhead.”

“It’s not often I have the pleasure of meeting a man brave enough to wear a velvet dinner jacket,” I teased, surprised by boldness. It must have had something to do with being next to Sinclair who made me feel tingly with female power.

He guffawed, a strange chortle of amusement that made me giggle. “My last wife complained about my fashion sense.” He flattened the lapels of his jacket carefully. “I divorced her over this jacket.”

I looked up at Sinclair to validate the outrageous claim but he was staring at me with a slight frown between his chestnut brows as if we were discussing complex physics.

“Well, I think you look dashing,” I asserted.

Santiago beamed. “Tell me you speak Spanish and you will be my next wife.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I scolded lightly and watched him laugh again.