The Affair (The Evolution Of Sin #1)

by Giana Darling

  “You leave tomorrow, right?” Candy continued and finally I turned to her. “Time flies.”

  I tried to breath through the sudden depression gripping my throat and shrugged. “It will be good to get home.”

  “Uh-huh.” She slanted me a long look, waiting for me to say something more. When I didn’t, she sighed and turned fully to face me. “Listen, I’ve been working this whole trip and I’d love to take a break to do some shopping. Would you go to town with me this afternoon?”

  Immediately, my eyes sought Sinclair. He had mentioned going to the failing resort to take a look around with some building inspectors and Richard Denman, who I found out was a revered architect from Chicago. I had been invited along but after learning that Margot would be there, I had begged off.

  “It will be fun,” Candy trilled. “I promise.”

  I laughed at my hesitation and shook my head to clear it of the Frenchman. I had no obligation to Sinclair, he was busy and though I should have been photographing I figured I could do that in town.

  “I would love to.”

  Candy nodded curtly. “Good.”

  I had my purse and my camera so we decided to head out right after breakfast but I lingered overlong, trying to get a private moment to say goodbye to Sinclair. I knew it would only be a few hours until I saw him next but being away from him still made me slightly anxious. I groaned into my hand. God, I had it bad.

  “What are you moaning about?” His trademark small smile brightened his handsome face as he looked down on me. “Personally, I can’t think of anything to bemoan. I am in Mexico on a beautiful day the morning after sleeping with a gorgeous woman.”

  His words wooed me and I stepped closer to him, so that we were almost pressed together. I knew the others stood just to the side but Sinclair didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his grin widened and he pressed my hips to his with a firm hand on my lower back.

  “You’ll miss me this afternoon.”

  It wasn’t a question but I nodded anyway. “When will you be back?”

  His thumb inched under my shirt and rubbed over the bare skin at the base of my spine. “Not soon enough. In time for dinner.”

  I smiled at the domesticity of his comment, unsure if he realized it or not. “No worries. If you are late, we can skip right to dessert.”

  “Mmm, lavender and honey. My favorite.” He leaned close, bending down so that he could look on my level into my eyes. I thought he would kiss me but he only smiled, beautifully with his firm lips parted to reveal nearly perfect white teeth. “Be safe and have fun, siren.”

  I swallowed and braced my feet further apart, afraid that I would float into the air on cloud nine. “Will do, master.”

  He chuckled and lightly brushed his hand over my bottom as he let me go and stepped away.

  “Are you done hitting on my lady, Sinclair?” Cage demanded as he stepped away from a shell-shocked young woman who stared after him and slung an arm around my shoulders.

  I laughingly shoved him away with my hip but he held on, his face collapsing into sorrow. “Look what you’ve done, turning her against me.”

  Candy hit him, not too lightly, on the back of his head with a binder. “Let her go, you oaf.”

  Cage winced, rubbing the back of his skull. “You guys are no fun.”

  “I assure you, that’s not the case.” There was a trace of humor in Sinclair’s cool tones.

  His colleagues blinked, shocked by his innuendo. Robert Corbett cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably but Richard Denman grinned broadly at me and winked. Sinclair was the one to break the silence by raising a condescending eyebrow at his dumbstruck friends and winking – actually winking – at me as he walked passed us to the waiting car.

  “Wow,” Candy breathed, a hand to her lower stomach. “I’m surprised I’m still standing.”

  I flushed but didn’t try to contain my laughter.

  “What have you done to that man?” Richard clapped a hand to my back, his silver hair gleaming in the sunlight. “Whatever it is, keep it up. I haven’t seen Sin so light at heart…” He frowned and then threw his head back to chuckle. “Ever.”

  Their compliments were slightly awkward. I had wondered what Sinclair was like with Darling back at home, if he was so charming, so passionate. It seemed that I now had an answer but it only led to so many questions that were even more haunting. Like would I ever see him again after I got on the plane tomorrow?

  Cage, surprisingly, didn’t say anything. Instead, he squeezed my shoulder and released me, taking a step back to study me. He was wearing distractingly bright green spandex swim shorts and the sight of his muscular thighs and the bulge in the thin material momentarily distracted me. After a second, he grabbed a piece of paper off the receptionist desk and scribbled something on the back of a card before pressing it into my palm. Distracted by his sudden departure, I tucked the folded paper into my purse without reading it.

  When the men and an unseen Margot had left, Candy and I decided to walk to town. It was a half an hour trek in the hot sun but we were both up for it and it gave me the opportunity to photograph the small stretch of local boroughs before we hit the market. Candy kept up a constant stream of pleasant conversation, happily pointing out things I might find of interest and she flat out giggled when I insisted on taking a picture of an old Mexican man wearing nothing but a long pair of dusty shorts sound asleep and practically rolling out of his seat before a small but carefully maintained pink house.

  “How long have you been photographing for?” she asked me, wiping off the crown of sweat beaded on her forehead.

  “My sister bought me my first camera when I was sixteen.” I could still remember the feel of the second hand Canon in my hands, the hard click of the shutter as it closed over an image. I still had the camera, carefully wrapped in my suitcase because I hadn’t wanted to risk shipping it to New York with the rest of my meager things from Paris.

  “Did you train?”

  The mouth of the marketplace loomed up ahead and the colorful cacophony made my finger twitch over the lens of my camera.

  “Five years at L'École des Beaux-Arts in Paris, mostly in painting.”

  “Wow. I’ve always loved art. Obviously, working with Sinclair it’s a prerequisite. But I cannot paint to save my life, unless you count splatter painting.”

  I laughed but my mind was caught on her earlier comment. “Sinclair likes art?”

  She frowned at me over the rim of a large ceramic pitcher she was inspecting. “Well, he should. He owns one of the more prestigious art galleries in the city.”

  What city? I bit back my question and nodded. “Right.”

  She must have caught my sigh because suddenly her hand was on mine.

  “Listen, Elle. I know we don’t really know each other and under other circumstances I’m sure the cultured classy artist would have nothing to do with the dumpy business woman.” Her smile was sharp with self-deprecation. “But I feel as if we are friends. And as a friend, I can tell you that I’ve never seen my boss like this. He’s lightened. Usually, he walks around like a living sculpture, beautiful and untouchable. You make him come alive.”

  Tears stung the back of my eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”

  It was brutal to hear about his possible affection when I knew it would end tomorrow. Besides, no matter what other people might have said, I knew that Sinclair only wanted a holiday affair, no personal attachment and no strings. But God it felt good to pretend, for a minute, that he felt something more than lust towards me.

  Candy’s grip tightened over me. “Because I think you should tell him how you feel. If you have feelings for him, fight for him. I like his girlfriend,” she paused and guilt flashed across her strong features, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t see what is so clearly happening between you and Sinclair.”

  I shook my head and pulled my hand away from her. “Stop.”

  Her dark eyes were wide with sincerity but she held up her palms in su
rrender. “Fine. I had to say it, but I understand if you are too afraid to act on it.”

  I flinched as her arrow found the Bull’s Eye. The new Giselle wasn’t timid, or afraid, meek. But – I bit my lip and took another step away from her – that didn’t mean I was stupid.

  She sighed deeply and picked up the pitcher again. “So, what do you think? Too garish?”

  We spent the next few hours tripping around downtown Cabo San Lucas; all talk of Sinclair clearly off the table. Instead, Candy told me about her start in business, interning for large corporations and subsisting on ramen noodles and business lunches before she met Sinclair at a conference. They had hit it off right away in the Q&A session of a famous real estate broker who they reduced to a blubbering mess after ripping into his flimsy business model. She laughed as she recounted the story and so did I, imagining them tag teaming the poor man.

  I told her little about my past beyond Paris and if she noticed my evasion, she didn’t let on. It was difficult to explain my splintered family and the fear that had driven me first from Italy and then my beloved Paris. It felt strange not tell her about my siblings though. Usually when someone questioned me, I automatically spoke of their more glamorous lives, casting my own dull existence into shadow. Instead, we talked about art and France, both of which Candy was an expert in.

  By the time we decided to head home the light was syrupy as the sun began to sink in the cerulean blue sky and Candy was laden with shopping bags.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t get that bracelet,” she said between each labored breath. “Seriously, Elle, it was gorgeous.”

  I sighed, picturing the Mexican silver and turquoise cuff that we had seen in the jewelry store. It had been a beautiful piece of jewelry but I couldn’t afford it. The credit card Cosima and Sebastian had given me had practically burned a whole in my pocket but I refused on principle to use their money for anything less than essentials.

  “Starving artist,” I said by way of explanation, though that wasn’t exactly the truth either.

  “You don’t look it.” Candy eyed my curves with good-humored envy. “I’d give my right arm to have a figure like that.”

  “It took me a long time to be okay with it,” I admitted, running a hand over the exaggerated flare of my hip. “I have two tall, thin sisters.”

  Images of Cosima in Sports Illustrated flashed through my mind but I repressed my old habit of comparing the two of us, burrowing it deep beneath the confidence that Sinclair had newly gifted me.

  Candy pursed her lips. “Damn, there are more of you?”

  I laughed and felt warmth suffuse my chest as she linked her arm with mine. It felt good to be light hearted and girlish, to laugh too loudly at Candy’s impressions of Cage and snigger together over details of her last lover who had a thing for woman sucking lollipops.

  “No seriously,” she had said, eyes wide. “I ended up with three cavities.”

  I had never really had many friends unless you counted my family. Brenna was my only true friend and I couldn’t even remember the details of our relationship in the beginning. After she had invited me for coffee the first time, who had called whom next? Either way, it had always been easy, and I realized that I felt the same unselfconscious ease with Candy.

  We were laughing when we entered Sinclair’s suite using the spare key card he had given me. I pretended not to notice Candy give it a significant glance and, happily, the low murmur of chatter in the room distracted her.

  Obviously, the inspection had gone well, because the men involved each clutched a flute of frothing champagne and they all cheered when we entered.

  “You got it?” I asked, breathless from the excitement crackling in the room.

  Sinclair dropped the unopened bottle he been holding – which Cage caught hastily – and strode over to me before I could even blink. He hefted me in his arms and beamed into my face. “Oh yes, siren, we got it.”

  I squealed and hugged him, too aware of the others to do anything more. Cage, apparently, shared no such qualm because he was on Candy, his lips slanted over hers, before she could protest. When he finally broke away with a loud smack and a cheeky grin, she was the colour of a livid sunburn.

  “You ass,” she snapped.

  Cage only chuckled and turned to me, trying to plant a kiss on me as well.

  When Sinclair raised an eyebrow at him and hugged me closer, he only shrugged and murmured, “Spoil sport.”

  I ignored him. “Are we going to celebrate?”

  “We are.” Duncan adjusted his glasses and indicated his champagne flute.

  “Santiago and Katarina are coming.” Sinclair spoke in his normal muted tones and though everyone could hear him and see us, I knew he was absorbed by me. “Do you want to go out with them?”

  “Dancing?”

  His eyebrows rose over twinkling eyes. “You like to dance?”

  I shrugged, thinking about our first night together, when we had moved sinuously across the dance floor. “I’d like to dance with you.”

  His arms tightened around me before he loosened his hold. I slid down his body, feeling his arousal press against my stomach when I finally landed on my feet. He was still staring at me with the small smile I was coming to think was just for me.

  Cage coughed loudly and took a long chug from the open champagne bottle in his hand. “Are you sure you want to go out? We can get out of here if you want to,” his eyebrows waggled, “stay in to celebrate. In fact, if you really beg, I’ll stay for that party too.”

  Candy dug an elbow into his ribs. “You’re such a child.”

  “Prude.”

  “Villain.”

  I smiled at their exchange, still looking up at Sinclair. His face was relaxed, his hands loosely clasped around my waist. I caught Richard’s eye over Sinclair’s shoulder and watched him nod his approval, lifting the flute in a silent cheers.

  “Cage is right,” I murmured, rolling onto my tiptoes into order to speak against the corner of his jaw. “We did have other plans for tonight.”

  He groaned, his hands flexing on my hips. “Don’t tempt me, minx.” He leaned down, running his tongue along the delicate shell of my ear. “I could take you right now, in front of all these people and you wouldn’t say no, would you?”

  A shudder wracked my spine and his dark chuckle was warm in my ear. I shoved him away playfully and battled with my blush.

  “Sinclair,” a feminine voice snapped.

  I turned to see Margot standing in the open door to the suite, momentarily distracted by how lovely she was in her vivid green dress with her silky blonde hair gleaming. She was staring at us with haughty indignation, as if I was some whore who had lured Sinclair to the dark side.

  He tensed but his voice was cool when he addressed her, “Yes, Margot, no one will force you to go if you would rather stay here. Alone.”

  She bristled and took a few steps into the room, oblivious to the ominous silence that had descended as everyone raptly watched the exchange.

  “I know you better than this,” she said, waving her hand disdainfully in my direction. “You don’t do messy. Cut her off now, before she deludes herself into thinking this is anything more than a holiday affair.”

  Each word struck me in the chest like a poisoned dart. I took a step back, right into Sinclair, who clamped an arm around my waist.

  My skin burned with shame but when I tried to wriggle free, he leaned down to growl, “Stop it.”

  “Stop being such an Ice Queen. Can’t you see he’s happy?” Candy said, her teeth bared.

  Margot raised one pale brow and looked me over, cataloguing everything from the rubber flip-flops at my feet to the volume of my humidity infused hair.

  “She leaves tomorrow. Can’t you see the consequences?”

  “Enough.” His voice cracked like a whip. “You will not ruin the night for everyone, M. Is that understood?”

  Her throat worked as she swallowed and her eyes were wide as she tried to silently a
ppeal to his logical side but I could tell by the weight of his arm across my stomach that he wouldn’t yield.

  Strangely, I felt badly for Margot. Even though I hated to think about it, she was right. Even if I made Sinclair happy now, was it worth the guilt he would feel returning home to his girlfriend? I wasn’t so sure.

  I placed a hand on his arm and gently removed it, deciding to give them a minute to speak without the awkwardness of my presence.

  “Come on, Candy, help me pick out what to wear?”

  I extended my hand to her and smiled when she happily interlocked out fingers, shooting a withering glance at Margot as she did so.

  “Your things are in the bedroom.” Sinclair spoke softly but I heard him even from across the room as we opened the door to leave for my room.

  “Excuse me?”

  I didn’t turn around but I could tell by the sudden silence that everyone was as confounded as I was.

  “I said your things are in the bedroom.”

  Finally turning around, I glanced helplessly at our audience. He had a girlfriend, for God’s sake. What was he doing announcing to them that we were sleeping together? Obviously, we hadn’t been completely discrete especially tonight but still.

  My frantic eyes found his and I opened my mouth to speak but clamped it shut again when I saw the stern expression on his face. He was daring me to protest over his lack of respect for my privacy or my individuality. I own you; his words from the drive to the marina echoed in my head. I swallowed past the rising fear that he did and he would continue to own my heart long after we left this place.

  He sighed, tucking his hands in his pockets as the shutters slammed down over his features. “Go get dressed, Elle. We will wait for you.”

  I stood there for a minute as he turned to talk to the men, ignoring the last ten minutes of public affection and humiliation as if it had never happened. Margot watched me curiously with her head cocked to one side as I hesitated.

  “Are you okay?” Candy whispered.