He shrugged and strode across the space confidently to take a seat in the chair across from the desk. “I don’t feel like talking to you about that.”
“Oh?” Indignation vibrated through me. “Well, I don’t feel like being here.”
Ha! How would he like that?
Again, he shrugged.
“Stop playing games with me Sinclair. Why the hell am I here?”
His too blue eyes flamed and he leaned forward, arms on the table so that he could move that gorgeous face closer to me.
“I love it when you say my name.”
That caught me off guard. “Daniel?”
“Sinclair. You know, before you, I hated my family name.”
“Why does everyone call you Sinclair then?”
“Cage always has and he has a way of influencing people. It’s his way of reminding me where I came from.”
“Oh.”
He smiled slightly at my lack of eloquence, his confident mask secured firmly over his face. “And you are here precisely because I don’t want to play games with you. You’re here because I saw you dancing in the pit with a dozen different men wearing my favorite dress and my favorite smile and I couldn’t stand it.” Slowly, keeping eye contact with me the entire way, he got to his feet and stepped around the desk to stand in front of me, so tall that I had to tip the chair back to look into his eyes. “You are here, Giselle, simply and complicatedly, because I miss you.”
My tongue was pasted to the roof of my mouth, stuck to the back of my teeth so that I could barely breathe let alone respond. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes, and I realized with mortification that this was where the moisture had gone. But his gaze on me was tender and open, asking to receive whatever response I was able to give him.
A knock at the door jolted us both and Sinclair chuckled softly as he called for them to come in. The young woman who entered was beautiful and all skin, the tiny crop top and black skirt she wore only covered the essentials. She licked her lips and beamed at Sinclair as she carried in a tray and placed it on the coffee table where he had directed her. They were speaking, polite small talk, but I was too focused on Sinclair’s declaration to tune in.
He missed me.
My heart was too warm in my chest, like the sun over my tossing oceanic stomach. I was at once deathly ill and too alive, suspended on the rack of desire and pain with no sense of escape.
By the time the girl left, I was basically breathless.
Without a word, Sinclair reached down to take my hand and led me to the small lounge area to
wards the heavenly smell of… chocolate. I frowned down at the assortment of chocolates, mini cakes and candies on the large gold lacquered tray and back up at Sinclair.
He grinned, one of his rare full and boyish smiles that hooked my heart and dragged it through the waters straight towards his net. “The club is called Sinner’s for a reason. We cater to all the indulgences here, including gluttony. There is a dessert bar on the second floor.”
I mouthed wow and took a seat on the low red love seat. Sinclair tugged one of the velvet chairs closer and sat down too.
“Drink.” He nodded at the tall glass of water. “And eat.”
I took a long draught of the cool liquid, grateful for its effect on my dry throat, and carefully bit into a chocolate covered strawberry, my eyes fluttering closed at the explosion of bitter and sweet on my refreshed tongue.
When I opened them again, Sinclair was staring at me. I shivered, poised like a gong waiting for the hammer strike to bring me alive.
“You should be forbidden from eating in public.” He shook his head and propped one ankle on his opposite knee. “I’d almost forgotten what a pleasure it is to watch you.”
I swallowed hard and fought for purchase on the slippery surface of my morality. “You shouldn’t be saying things like that.”
“I would amend that statement. I should say things like that. Every. Single. Day. But you’ve assured me that you don’t want to hear them so…” He opened his palms wide, at a loss.
“Are you…” I sighed. “What are you doing, Sinclair?”
“I’m renegotiating our agreement.”