The Consequence (The Evolution of Sin 3)

At least, that was the narrative I thought up in order to excuse Elena’s blatant hatred of me over the years.

A year after I left, the twins found enough money to move Mama and Elena to New York City and they left Christopher behind. I didn’t know the story there, if he was happy to see them go or if they fled him like I had. He wasn’t something that I had ever talked about with anyone, even Cosima. That is, until the demons he had left me with cropped up in Cabo with Sinclair.

Of course the situation with Sinclair was different but not totally so. If you wanted to strip it down to brass tacks, the way I knew Elena would when she eventually found out about Sinclair and I, it would be fair to draw the conclusion that in both triangles, the man had chosen me over her. It wasn’t as simplistic as that. It wasn’t fair to either circumstance or either man. It wasn’t even fair to Elena or me. But it was what she would see and it was one of the reasons, maybe even the core reason that she would never forgive me.

Chapter Six.

“How was your evening with Madame Claremont?”

I was lying on top of a sweaty Sinclair, my entire body aligned with his, pressed front to front. My fingers were in his hair, threading through the damp strands. We were both exhausted from jet leg and a vanilla but vigorous bout of love making that I’d instigated the second I was in the door from drinks with Odile. As promised, she had plied me with enough wine to make me just the right amount of intoxicated and definitively horny. Sin had taken immediate advantage but it was the first time in a while that the Dom Sinclair hadn’t taken me. It didn’t bother me but I definitely noticed the difference and drunkenly wondered at it before moving on.

“It was amazing. I forgot how libertine the French are, infidelity and affairs are par for the course so obviously, she wasn’t judgmental about us.”

In fact, Odile had been positively thrilled about my romance with Sinclair. She had waxed on about how I was finally living my life for me instead of hiding behind ugly clothes, ugly hair and an ugly outlook on love. It had helped that I’d shown her photos of my paintings for the collection. If the path I’d taken toward sexual deviancy surprised her, she hadn’t expressed concern or disgust. Instead, she had informed me that she wasn’t one to judge as she was simultaneously dating three much younger men. At which point, I had begged her to let me paint all of them together for the show. She’d agreed and we set a date for Thursday at her private studio in Montmartre.

I told Sinclair this, my words slightly slurred together from tiredness and a lingering intoxication that made me feel heavy and content.

“Interesting woman,” he noted when I was done. “No wonder she helped inspire your talent so beautifully.”

I tipped my head up so that he could see my smile but I was too lazy to open my eyes to see how he received it. Happily, I could tell he was pleased because he slid a hand down the curve of my back to rest it on one of my ass cheeks.

“Are you enjoying Paris then, mon amour?”

“Yes. I honestly didn’t think I would come back but I am happy to be here, happier than I thought I would be. I love Paris,” I said on a dreamy sigh.

“We could move here, if you wanted. It would take me a while to organize the transition of Faire Developments’ offices but it could be arranged especially as we are doing so much business over here now.”

My body tightened with shock. “Are you kidding?”

I let out a squeak as he rolled us before I could protest. I stared up at him with wide eyes, drinking in his intense scowl with mute interest.

“Do I look like I am kidding? I meant what I said when I was wooing you, Elle. I want to be with you in every conceivable way. If it were socially acceptable, I would cuff us together and never let you out of my sight. Not because I don’t trust you but because I love every minute with you, watching you react to the world, react to me as if I am some kind of world wonder. It makes a man feel fucking invincible. You give me that? The least I can do is concede to living any where in the world that you want to be most.”

“When you say things like that I can’t believe that you’re real,” I admitted, placing a shaking hand to his cheek.

He bit the edge of my thumb where it lay against the edge of his mouth. “You have time to get used to it. That is what I have been trying to tell you. Forever, Elle, I mean it.”