“Where will you live when you return state side?” Robert asked.
I looked at Sinclair with a deep frown because I hadn’t thought of that. We couldn’t very well shack up at Cosima’s together, for a variety of reasons.
My Frenchmen didn’t look at me but he squeezed my knee beneath the table. “We’ll sort that out when we come to it.”
Richard narrowed his eyes at us. “You haven’t told anyone yet, have you?”
“No,” I admitted, suddenly fascinated with the delicate stem of my red wine glass. “It’s a bit easier said than done.”
Candy snorted indelicately. “That is officially the understatement of the century.”
“Candace,” Sinclair warned softly.
“As much as I love to disagree with Candy, she does have a point,” Margot chimed in. “What do you do in this situation? Call up your sister and say, ‘hello, Elena, you know that man you planned to marry and spend the rest of your life with? Well, I’m sleeping with him’.”
“Boy, I don’t envy you that conversation,” Robert said with a wince.
“It’s not about the sex though, or at least, it wouldn’t be for me,” Candy admitted with a guilty look in my direction. “It would be that Sinclair was choosing you to spend his life with and not me.”
My heart rattled and rocked on the turbulence of their words. My previous levity drowned beneath the waves.
Sinclair’s hand moved soothingly back and forth over my thigh but it didn’t bring me any great comfort.
“It would be the sex for me,” Margot countered. “Knowing that my man thought my little sister was hotter? Horrible.”
“Quiet,” Sinclair ordered, his voice steely. “You are speaking about a situation that is impossible to understand from the outside looking in. More importantly, you are being insensitive to Giselle. She has done nothing wrong.”
“Except for having knowingly slept with a taken man,” Margot muttered.
Her words found their bull’s-eye in the center of my chest.
“You know nothing.” Sinclair’s eyes blazed bright as a lightening strike as they landed on her. “I will explain something to you which is none of your business even though you seem to think it is. My past girlfriend thought my sexuality was disgusting, you understand? She found me repulsive and vile, and when we did have sex, it was never making love. I have great respect for Elena but she never loved me, not my entire soul. To stay with her would have been a great wrong, for both of us. Giselle is my partner now and forevermore. If any of you have a problem with it, I do not care to hear it.”
Utter silence fell in the wake of his bitter speech. Even I was a bit afraid of the bristling fury he kept barely contained under that ice-cold façade. Gently, I tangled my fingers with his on my lap.
“I’m sorry,” Margot said, more to my surprise. “I didn’t mean to cast judgment. I can’t say that I fully understand your connection but I do respect you Daniel and if Elle is the woman for you, I won’t stand in your way any longer.”
“She is the only woman for me,” he stated imperiously.
I dragged in a shaky deep breath of relief. God, I loved this man.
“Okay,” she nodded at him before looking to me. “Okay.”
He turned to stare at his other colleagues, daring them to speak out.
Surprisingly, it was Duncan who blinked twice and said softly, “Sinclair, man, we knew she was the one in Mexico, almost from the very start. Why do you think we stayed quiet?”
“We want you to be happy, you’re happy.” Robert shrugged.
It was a lot more complicated that they made it seem but I could see by the way that Sinclair’s frown turned to one of confusion and then melted away, that their approval meant a great deal to him.
“Now, Elle, how would you feel about a personal tour of the building site tomorrow?” Richard interjected smoothly. “I could always use an artist’s eye.”
My laughter eased the tension at the table. “I would love to.”
“Speaking of an artist’s eye,” Candy said, “I’ve had another three offers for the Dreams Under Water painting, Sinclair.”
“No.”
“Sin… At least consider it. You don’t even like it.”
I looked between the two of them, at Candy’s frustration and Sinclair’s adamancy.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Sinclair’s biological mother’s painting,” Candy explained.
“Excuse me?”
Sinclair’s mother had been an artist? How was it possible that I didn’t know that?
“Candace,” Sinclair warned.
“Your mother?” I asked him.
Richard let out a low whistle. “Damn, man, you didn’t tell her about your mother?”
“When did you expect me to tell her? I just made her mine and you are jeopardizing that by making it seem like I am keeping secrets from her.”
Candy bit her lip. “I’m really sticking my foot in it tonight, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” Sinclair agreed but his voice wasn’t cold because it was obvious that Candy was upset.