The Secret (The Evolution of Sin 2)

I was still dwelling on it when I was ushered into the office so it took me a moment to recognize the slick dark haired man grinning at me with his arms outstretched. Of course, the outrageously loud burnt umber blazer helped.

“Santiago!”

He laughed richly as I stepped into his arms. “Beautiful Elle, the New York smog does wonders for your complexion.”

I laughed with him. “You’re just being kind.”

He nodded solemnly. “I am. But this is easy with such a beautiful woman before me. Isn’t it, Sinclair?”

We both turned to smile at the Frenchman who was staring at us with his arms crossed and his feet braced. He looked every inch the successful property developer behind his glass and chrome desk, his hair perfectly smoothed away from his broad forehead. I wanted desperately to tousle it with fingers.

“She is lovely, though I don’t believe that gives you the right to fawn all over her, Iago.”

Santiago laughed, a series of quick high yips that made me grin. I allowed him to usher me to the seat beside his across from Sinclair’s desk.

“I have to say that I am pleasantly surprised to see you. Last time I spoke with Sinclair, he was cursing the fact that you had abandoned him in Mexico. There must be a good story here,” Santiago said.

I bit my lip and looked to Sinclair to answer his friend. I was surprised by the admission that my decision to flee had perturbed him but the longer I thought about it, the more it made sense. Sinclair was a man who appreciated closure and neatly tied up ends. Even more, he was a man of power and I had unwittingly stripped him of that power by leaving before he could say anything.

God, was it outrageous to think that he might have wanted to stop me? That he might have wanted to solidify the bond

between us with facts and figures, the where and who of it all so that we might have really been together?

My head pulsed painfully in time with my heart.

“…so I would appreciate your discretion on the matter. You know how much I dislike mixing business with pleasure,” Sinclair was saying when I tuned back into the conversation.

Santiago was frowning though, his thick brows knotting together in one long black smear. “This is ridiculous.”

I laughed weakly. “You can’t make stuff like this up.”

“No, no you cannot. The situation is ridiculous but what I really meant was that you, Sinclair, are ridiculous. The only reason Elle isn’t Mrs. Santiago Herrera right now is because you were there first but if you insist on being ridiculous about it then…” he petered off with a shrug, as if he couldn’t be held accountable for what happened next.

Something like a growl emanated from Sinclair’s direction but before he could calmly slice his friend into ribbons with a steely retort, I said, “Let me assure you, that is not the only reason I’m not your wife, Iago.” I sniffed dramatically. “Now if you bought me a ring bigger than your second wife’s… then we could talk.”

He laughed again and even Sinclair’s lips twitched, which effectively diffused the atmosphere.

“Anyway, I hate to interrupt business,” I said with wide, innocent eyes as I waited for them to protest.

Santiago opened his mouth to do so but Sin’s chuckle caught him off guard.

“She’s just fishing for compliments. You weren’t interrupting, Iago has been here for much longer than his allotted appointment and, if I’m not mistaken, he is keeping a lovely woman waiting in his hotel suite uptown.”

The Mexican magnate shrugged. “She may be my fourth wife, if Elle won’t have me.”

“Is Katarina with you?” I asked, jumping slightly in my seat at the thought of seeing his wonderful sister.

“Alas, she is back home. Had I known you would be here, I couldn’t have stopped her from joining me. She has remarked a number of times with sadness that you did not exchange information.”

“Give her my card,” I said, pushing one of my newly minted business cards towards him. “I’m actually having a showing the second week of December at DS Galleries. I don’t suppose you’ll still be here for it?”

His large obsidian eyes lit up and his smile was overlarge, goofy, like a kid with a candy bar. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“If you are in town until then, you have to come to our family Thanksgiving tomorrow.”

“If you insist,” he agreed easily.

We beamed at each other until Sinclair cleared his throat, and then we both laughed before turning to look at him.