Sinful Sacrament

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Sinful Sacrament Page 15

by Morgan James


  When it was over, Fox eased me to a sitting position, then retrieved my underwear from the floor. Flashing me a grin, he opened the flap of his jacket and tucked them into an inner pocket. “So I can think of you all evening while I’m gone.”

  A sated sort of exhaustion pulled at me, and I smiled back, unable to dredge up a smidge of embarrassment at the thought. “I’ll wait up for you.”

  Fox glanced at his watch, then kissed me. “I have to go. See you tonight, angel.”

  He turned around, and a strange sensation seized my chest. I grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn back to me. I couldn’t explain why, but the sudden urge to tell him I loved him sprang to the tip of my tongue. Fox’s brows lifted in silent question, and I swallowed the words. He needed a woman who was as strong and independent as himself, and I wouldn't disappoint him by saying something so romantic. Unable to speak the words in my heart, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, hoping he would understand.

  A long second passed before one hand went to the back of my head, the other wrapping around my waist, clutching me to him in a fierce hug. Fox pulled back and framed my face with both hands, his dark eyes boring into mine. He petted my hair away from my face, stroking and touching like he never wanted to let me go—like he couldn’t bear to tear himself away. The gesture was so tender that it filled my heart to bursting. I heard more emotion in the silence hanging between us than I’d ever heard in the words he spoke.

  After what felt like forever, he leaned in and brushed a kiss over my forehead. I closed my eyes at the sweetness of it. He was all I’d ever wanted—and I would never let him go. “I’ll miss you,” I admitted on a whisper.

  He kissed me once more. “Until tonight, angel.”

  With that last promise, Fox slipped from the kitchen and I practically melted into a puddle right there on the counter. God, I swear I fell more in love with him every day. Pressing my hands into the granite, I slid from the counter, steeling my shaky leg muscles as I hopped to my feet.

  My mind and body were still hazy with pleasure, and I moved slowly upstairs to our room where I could enjoy some solitude for a bit. I was tempted to stay bare under my dress until Fox got home so we could pick up where we’d left off, but it felt awkward with the guards around. I pulled on a fresh pair of underwear then settled onto the bed and pulled a blanket over my lap, allowing my thoughts free rein.

  Since Fox had revealed the news of my father’s involvement in the human trafficking ring two nights ago, we hadn’t spoken of it again. I couldn’t help but wonder exactly where things stood. It still didn’t seem quite real. Never in a million years would I have ever guessed my father was involved. But Fox would never lie to me—not about that. He’d promised to do a full investigation, make sure that every single scrap of evidence pointed to him before making any moves.

  The thought made me sick, because I knew what had to happen. He was my father, after all, and even after everything, I hated the idea of him dying. I’d tried not to think too heavily on it until we knew more. My stomach clenched tightly. What about my mother? God, what would she think? Part of me wanted her to hear the news from me.

  I stowed my phone in my skirt pocket and went to look for a guard. Fox had increased security, and Xavier and Callum had accompanied him to Noir tonight while another dozen men stayed at the house. Though Rodrigo was the highest-ranking guard here, I had no intention of asking him. It would be much easier to sway one of the other men to do my bidding.

  I headed out of the den and, as if luck was smiling down on me, a big, burly man named Antoine stepped right into my path. I flashed him a bright smile. “Hello.”

  He dipped his head politely. “Good evening, miss.”

  He started to move past me, but I lifted my hand to stop him. “I was hoping you could help me with something.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’d like to head into town to go shopping. It shouldn’t take long, and I really want to surprise Fox,” I said. “It’s our two-week wedding anniversary, and I wanted to get something he won’t forget. Not for him, but for me. For me to wear for him,” I clarified, watching Antoine’s cheeks turn red with embarrassment.

  “Anything you want,” he quickly agreed, probably to shut me up.

  Either way, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Perfect. I’ll—”

  “Can I help you with something?”

  My heart sank as Rodrigo’s voice pierced the air over my left shoulder, and I tensed before turning toward him with a smile fixed in place. “We’re good. Antoine is just going to take me into town for something real quick.”

  His dark eyes bore into mine before flitting to Antoine. “I’ll take care of Mrs. Vulpe. Continue your rounds.” His gaze returned to me. “I’ll get the car and meet you out front.”

  I bit my tongue against the urge to tell him no. Doing so would only make him more suspicious. “Thanks.”

  I ran upstairs and grabbed my purse, then headed toward the front door. One of the other, newer guys, Oscar, met me there and escorted me to the car after surveying our surroundings.

  Rodrigo met my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Where to?”

  “Sunbelt,” I replied, giving him the name of a small shopping strip near my father’s office.

  He blinked once, those cold, dark eyes seeming to read into my soul, and I shifted uncomfortably. Without another word, he returned his eyes to the driveway and eased the car forward.

  I stared out the window, my heart racing in my chest. I had no idea how this was going to play out, but I had to go along with it now. There was no backing out. Besides, I needed to see my mother.

  In the back of my mind a red warning flag waved wildly, but I dismissed it. I was his daughter; even if he was home, he wouldn’t hurt me. The emotional damage he could potentially inflict, though, was another matter entirely, and one I wasn’t quite sure I was ready to handle.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Fox

  I made my way around the room, smiling and speaking with the high rollers who’d decided to join us tonight. I made small talk and offered them drinks on the house, but all I could think about was Eva. The way she felt. The way she tasted. The way she’d hugged me before I’d walked out the door.

  It’d taken every ounce of willpower to walk away from her. I sensed there was something on her mind, something she wanted to say, but she’d held back. It’d been bothering me for the past couple of hours, and all I wanted to do was go back home and find my wife.

  My wife. God, that sounded so damn good. Eva was everything I’d ever wanted and more, everything I’d never dared to dream of having. She was my life and my future, the living embodiment of perfection. She was the yin to my yang, my opposite and my equal in every single way. Our strengths and weaknesses created the perfect balance.

  I loved her. There was no other explanation for the perpetual achy sensation that had taken up residence in my chest when I thought of her. I was certain she felt the same, but suddenly, I needed to know. I couldn’t wait for this night to end so I could see her.

  I stopped next to a table set up for blackjack. “How are we doing, gentlemen?”

  “Damn good whiskey,” said an older man to my right, holding up a tumbler of amber liquid.

  The Booker’s was a nice touch. Smooth and with a higher proof, it tended to encourage my players to loosen their pockets and drop a bit more cash than they might have otherwise. “I’m glad you like it. If you need a refill, just let one of the staff know.”

  A couple of the men didn’t even spare me a glance, so engrossed were they in the game in front of them. I wondered if either were counting cards, and I flicked a look at my dealer. She met my gaze and gave a subtle shake of her head. She hadn’t noticed anything yet, and that was good enough for me.

  I moved away from the table, counting down the minutes until I could escape when a waitress wearing a concerned expression appeared at my side. “Sir, we have visitors.”

  Shit. T
he police. “Is the staff aware?”

  “Yes, sir. They’ve begun to evacuate.”

  Glancing around, I noticed that a soft buzz of conversation was rising around the room as word spread. “Thank you.”

  I gestured to the dealers at the tables close to me, and they immediately began to gather their things. The men at the tables scooped up their chips, and we ushered everyone out the back door. The employees and I moved quickly, stowing the tables and chairs in a well-hidden room off to the side while the police cleared and searched the rooms of the club upstairs.

  Anger threatened, but I forced it down. A raid was terrible for business—both of them—and I paid the local officials well enough to not have to deal with this. What the hell had prompted it? Most of the time we flew under the radar, drew no attention to ourselves. Either a member had spoken with the wrong person or some well-meaning official had caught wind of it and decided he wanted a feather in his cap. Either way I was going to figure out who was responsible and put an end to it.

  When everything was concealed, we made our way up a set of stairs that led up into the back of the bar area. I headed straight for my office where I heard Miranda speaking loudly with someone—probably whichever figure of authority had decided to drop in.

  I rested my shoulder on the doorjamb, expression fixed in place. Miranda glared at the man, then her gaze slid over his shoulder to me. She gestured my way. “I told you he would be back in a minute.”

  The man in a sport coat and khakis turned to look at me, his gaze speculative. “Are you the owner?”

  “I am. Vincent Kelly.” I introduced myself using the alias I’d used to purchase the building as I extended my hand.

  He shook, that wary look still in his eyes. “Detective Kiehl.”

  I flicked a look Miranda’s way. “Thank you. You may return to your duties.”

  She nodded once, then escaped after throwing one last dark look the man’s way. I turned my attention back to the detective. “How may I help you?”

  “As I’m sure you’re aware, my men have infiltrated your club.”

  A tiny smile touched my mouth. “See anything they like?”

  “This is a very serious matter,” he insisted.

  “Oh, it absolutely is,” I agreed. “You’re interfering in my business, but you’ve yet to explain why. My members pay an exorbitant fee to ensure their privacy.”

  His eyes hardened. “We received a tip that this is a front for an underground gambling ring?”

  “Is that so?” I lifted a brow. “And did you see anything to that effect while you searched?”

  “My men are currently in the main room with the employees and members,” he stumbled a bit as he explained. “They’re questioning and releasing, but I’d like to take a look around.”

  “By all means.” I held out a hand. “Follow me.”

  Forcing myself to keep calm, I led him from room to room. He and a second officer checked each closet, every nook and cranny. Finally, I led him into the bar where I knew I’d have to explain the door that led into the basement. Almost immediately, Kiehl was drawn to the plain door in the wall. “What’s here?”

  “The basement.” I retrieved my key ring and found the correct key, then unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. I entered the stairwell first, hoping to God we hadn’t missed anything during our rushed clean up.

  Once downstairs, I flipped on the several rows of overhead lights, illuminating the plain space. Detective Kiehl looked around. “What do you do down here?”

  “Nothing yet. The extra space allows us the potential to expand, perhaps add a second stage in the future, maybe another designated room or two.”

  Kiehl’s cheeks burned with a combination of anger and embarrassment at being thwarted. There was nothing to indicate several dozen prominent men and women had been here barely half an hour ago. He threw a grudging look the officer’s way before meeting my gaze again. “Thanks.”

  The man looked less than willing to offer the single word, but I nodded regardless. “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  They returned upstairs, gathered the rest of their men and left. Once the doors had closed behind them, I turned to face my customers, gathered along the side of the room. “I sincerely apologize for tonight’s interruption.”

  I spent the next two hours soothing ruffled feathers, assuring each and every customer that we wouldn’t have a repeat in the future. Each minute I spent here was time I was missing with my wife, and I was more than a little furious by the end of the night. Someone owed me one hell of an explanation—and it’d better be damn good.

  Chapter Thirty

  Eva

  “Ready to tell me the truth?”

  I bit my lip and shook my head, not bothering to tear my gaze from the buildings whizzing past. Rodrigo never would have dared ask Fox a question like that, but he was right not to trust me.

  “You have to tell me,” he said softly. “I made a promise to Fox that I would take care of you, and—”

  “Please don't say anything to him,” I pleaded. “I just... I wanted to talk to my mother.”

  He met my gaze in the mirror. “I can't let you go to their house, not after what we suspect about your father.” He shook his head. “Besides, there's no guarantee that your mother will even be there.”

  “It's Sunday, she'll be home.” His brow lifted a fraction, prompting me to explain. “Sundays are her tea days. She plays golf in the morning with her country club friends, then has a handful of them over for afternoon tea at the house.”

  For as long as I could remember, her schedule had remained the same. As long as she wasn't out on the campaign trail or traveling, Sundays were the one day I could count on her to actually be present in the house. By now, they would be wrapping up the luncheon and her friends should be on their way home.

  “And your father?”

  “As far away as possible.” He couldn't stand being in the same house as my mother, let alone a dozen country club snobs.

  I could practically feel the displeasure emanating from Rodrigo. “I don't like this.”

  Desperation propelled me forward, and I leaned between the front seats. “I know we haven't always gotten along, and I'm sorry for that. But I haven't seen my mother in almost six months. My father is terrified to come within ten miles of Fox, and I can't even reach out to my friends for fear of putting them in jeopardy. I know it's a lot to ask,” I said, infusing my voice with sympathy, “but I would really appreciate it if you would just do this one thing for me.”

  He was silent for so long that I thought for sure he would deny my request. Finally, he gave a terse nod. “They're over in Hargrove Estates, correct?”

  Relief streamed through my body. “Yes. Thank you so much.”

  I settled back against the soft leather seats and watched the scenery change from stark, gray cityscape to the lush green lawns of the suburban community. A few miles outside of town, Rodrigo made a left turn, and my pulse kicked up as the familiar homes came into sight.

  Following my instructions, Rodrigo parked in the driveway of my parents’ house, and my fingers were already wrapped around the door handle before Rodrigo threw a look over his shoulder at me. “Stay in the car until I make sure it's safe to get out.”

  I released my hold and nodded, waiting impatiently as he slid from the driver seat, then quickly scanned our surroundings before moving around and opening my door. His eyes moved constantly, sweeping over the wealthy homes of the middle-upper-class community, as he escorted me up the pathway to the front door. I punched the doorbell, and the familiar peal of tones from inside tugged at my heartstrings. Though I'd never been particularly close to either of my parents, this was still home, and it held precious memories.

  The door swung open, and I was temporarily stunned by the sight of a tall, broad man in a dark navy suit. “Is my mother home?”

  The bodyguard’s assessing gaze swept first over me, then Rodrigo before he gave a single clipped nod an
d stepped back, opening the door wide for us to enter. Once inside, the man locked the door and led us to the formal living room where my mother entertained all of her guests. I could see that the furniture was still slightly out of place from this afternoon's luncheon, the depressions from where it had been moved still visible in the plush, expensive rug.

  The tap of heels against the hardwood floor brought a smile to my face, and I stood as my mother entered the room.

  “Eva,” she greeted in her well-modulated voice, “I'm so glad you're here.”

  I didn't dare hug her and risk rumpling the expensive suit she still wore, but I crossed the room and took her hands, then gave an air kiss to each cheek. “Hi, mom.”

  Still holding my hands, she stepped back to survey me. Apparently deciding that I was sufficiently healthy, she finally released me. “How are you, darling?” she asked. Her eyes drifted briefly to Rodrigo who remained standing silently but imposingly in the corner, before her gaze returned to mine. “Your father said you were living with someone. Is this the lucky man?”

  So that’s what my father had told her—that I was living with a man. I’d wondered how he’d explained my absence for the past several months.

  Her question drew a startled laugh from my mouth. “No, no. This is my guard, Rodrigo.”

  My mother nodded sagely, and lifted one hand toward the doorway. “As you can tell, we've had to increase security as well. So much unrest.”

  I wondered if she knew what had brought that on. I nodded sympathetically and took a seat on the edge of the couch.

  “So,” my mother said brightly. “Tell me everything. It's been an age since I've seen you.”

  “Well,” I started shyly, “I'm not just living with someone. We're married.”

 

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