The Affair (The Evolution Of Sin #1)

by Giana Darling

  “I’m just not used to being controlled,” I hissed, even though this seemed like the millionth time this week that Sinclair had done so.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  I pursed my lips as Cosima’s accented voice echoed through my head and urged me to follow her example. I picked out the tiniest dress in my arsenal, one that Cosima had bought me for Mama’s restaurant opening two years ago, and held it up for Candy with a smile.

  “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t regret it.”

  Chapter Fourteen.

  The dance floor vibrated with the pulsing beat of the techno music blaring through the five feet speakers surrounding the dance floor at the Pink Kitty nightclub. Scantily clad dancers ground against each other, their bare skin glistening in the blue and pink lights flashing overhead. My long hair was tangled and damp against my exposed back so I lifted it from my skin, wishing fruitlessly for a breeze to pass through the open front of the club into the back where we moved to the throbbing beat.

  My eyes sought out Sinclair over at the bar talking to Santiago and Candy. I had politely implied that if he could distract those two then maybe Cage and Kat would dance together. He had raised those strong brows but done as I requested and now Kat stood close to me, laughing as Cage danced around her with the flare of the expert performer he was.

  Smiling to myself, I pushed through the crowd, desperate to get some air. My feet were sore from dancing so long in my only pair of high heels, a ridiculously high pair of nude pumps that I had purchased in Paris when Brenna invited me to the premier of one of her movies. Sinclair had seemed to like them though, if his dark promise to fuck me with nothing else on was anything to go off of.

  When I had emerged from the bedroom, everyone but Sinclair was gone, waiting for us in the lobby. He apologized with a twisted smile for Margot’s inappropriate behavior. I hadn’t corrected him – our behavior was far more inappropriate than her concern – mostly because the way he looked at me in the short, tight white dress I wore was enough to distract me from the truth.

  The cool air hit my sticky skin as soon as I pushed open the heavy door to the fire escape and I breathed a sigh of contentment as I lifted my hair from my neck.

  “You’ve got a beautiful smile,” a hot voice breathed into my ear.

  I scrunched my nose against the foul smell of the stranger’s breath and tried to step further down the stairs so that he could get by. When he didn’t move I turned to look up at him, finding a vaguely attractive frat boy leering down at me.

  “Thank you,” I said coolly, drawing my arms across my chest to hide my ample cleavage from his gaze. “My boyfriend thinks so to.”

  The deception fell from my lips too easily and for a second, I allowed my mind to go there, to imagine what it would be like to be Sinclair’s girlfriend. I wondered if he would call me darling and give me space to express my independence or if he would be the man I knew him to be now, deliciously possessive and spontaneous.

  “Come dance with me, babe.”

  The man’s voice rudely interrupted my daydreams and I looked up at him sharply, noticing that he had closed the distance between us and now stood only a step above me.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  I turned to walk further down the steps, thinking that I could make my way around to the front of the club where there would be more people but his arm snagged me just as I was taking a step. A squeak punctuated my fall as I slammed into the railing and the air collapsed from my lungs. Taking advantage of my position leaning over the iron banister, he pressed into my back and slowly righted me so that I was flush against his front.

  He groaned. “This is nice. What do you say we skip the dancing and I take you back to my hotel?”

  My heart was beating painfully hard but I knew how to think through the fog of panic thanks to my experiences with Christopher.

  “Like I said, I have a boyfriend.” My voice was surprisingly calm and I was thankful for it. Some men did this for the thrill of the fear, I knew.

  I attempted to step free from his arms but they constricted around me like a boa.

  “We don’t need a hotel.” He spun me around and clamped down on my lower back, pushing my hips tight against his arousal.

  His head descended and I frantically fought for a way out of this situation. My arms were held tight at my sides and without leverage there was no way I could dislodge a man almost a foot taller and eighty pounds heavier than me.

  So, I did the only thing I could.

  When his lips slanted over mine and his greasy tongue stabbed into my mouth, I bit him. Hard. The taste of blood blossomed against my tongue and his hoarse cry rattled my eardrums. He shoved me away and I stumbled on my stupid heels, falling back with a crash against the railing. Pain exploded in my head as it cracked against the metal but I stood as quickly as I could, fighting the wooziness. The pervert was bent over, his hands folded over his heavily bleeding mouth.

  “You fuckin’ bith,” he mumbled and took a menacing step forward.

  I kicked off my shoes, leaving them on the landing, and took off down the rest of the stairs. I could hear him lumbering after me but I knew I was quicker and that he was crippled by pain. I stepped on something painful as I tore around the corner to the front of the club but I ignored it, stopping only when I saw a large Mexican bouncer. I bounded into him and he caught me without question, pushing me behind him when he caught sight of the man trailing behind me.

  “Ignacio.” The bouncer nodded at another man guarding the door and he took off towards the creep who had assaulted me.

  Finally, the bouncer turned to me, his large face creased with concern. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded but my body was shaking and I could still taste his blood against my teeth.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  There was shouting down the street but the bouncer took me gently by the shoulders and bent down so that his large brown eyes were all I could see.

  “I need you to tell me what happened, can you do that?”

  The cool air off the ocean made me shiver and gave me the wherewithal to shake my head and request the one thing I really needed. “My boyfriend is inside. He’s tall with reddish hair and really pretty blue eyes. Can you get him?”

  He stared at me for a minute before nodding tersely and moving me to the stool that he probably sat on when the line was slow. I started when he slipped a coarse blanket around my shoulders but he smiled kindly at me and moved away a few steps to speak into his walkie-talkie. I could hear the man I’d bitten groan as the other bouncer dealt with him but I didn’t look over at them. I knew I would cry if I did and I wanted to be stronger than that. So, I sat on the stool and dragged deep handfuls of air into my lungs, counting to seven before I released each breath.

  A few minutes later, my group burst through the door to the club and Sinclair was suddenly before me, crouched on his knees in order to look up at me.

  “Elle,” he croaked, two knuckles skating down my cheek to the corner of my mouth. They came away with blood on them and I realized that he thought it was mine.

  “His,” I explained through my chattering teeth.

  His eyes were large, the color of wet blue velvet and his voice was unbearably soft when he said, “Désolé, ma sirène.”

  I swallowed a sob and wrestled one hand out of the blanket to clutch his damp button up. “Hold me?”

  I was in his lap before I could blink, nestled in the cradle of his arms with his firm lips pressed to my forehead. The bouncer was speaking with Candy and Richard Denman, both of them yelling at him for answers.

  “Stop,” I called and cleared my throat when my voice didn’t carry as well as I wanted it to. “Stop asking him questions.”

  They turned to me, blinking widely, struck dumb by my insistence and probably my awful appearance.

  The bouncer bent down before me and I realized that despite his impressive bull-like size, he had a handsome face made swee
t by large eyes the color of melted chocolate. “Can you tell me what happened now?”

  I nodded and took a deep breath, drawing comfort from Sinclair’s arms as they squeezed gently around me. Santiago, Kat and Cage all appeared while I told my story but quickly turned away to speak with a policeman who had shown up, interacting in rapid fire Spanish. Sinclair’s body grew increasingly tense as I recounted the incident, until I felt like I was sitting in a cage. When I was finished, the bouncer asked me a few questions before going to join the conversation with Santiago and the policeman.

  I looked up at Sinclair but he gently pressed my head back to his shoulder and I knew it was because he didn’t want me to see the anger on his face.

  “Candy, I want you to take her home now. Go straight back to the resort and take her to my room,” Sinclair said, once again the cool and controlled businessman.

  I was mute as he placed me carefully on my feet and moved a few steps away. The sudden distance was like alcohol in an open wound. Why was he leaving me?

  “What are you doing?” Candy hissed, her large teeth flashing as she bared them at her boss. “You should take her back.”

  He shook his head but didn’t look at me. A muscle in his jaw spasmed and I watched his fists clench and unclench as he fought to remain calm. For some reason, the sight of him made me want to weep.

  “Do it now, Candace,” he ordered before turning around and striding over to the conversation with the police.

  Candy turned to me, her angry eyes dulling with empathy as she took in the miserable sight of me. With a gusty sigh, she placed an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Elle. Let’s go back.”

  We were silent in the cab but she held my hand the entire time. I didn’t cry but my body was weak with the effort to hold in the tears and my left foot throbbed brutally from a deep slice on my instep. The stupid incident coupled with Sinclair’s continued hot and cold attitude, the fact that I was leaving tomorrow and he would go back to his darling girlfriend, sent the careful walls compartmentalizing my live crumbling down.

  When we reached Sinclair’s suite, I hesitated in the doorway. He had ordered Candy to take me home and my heart throbbed as his words echoed in my head.

  “Come on, I’ll make you some tea while you take a shower, okay?” Candy placed a hand on my back and I winced when she pressed into tender skin from where I had fallen backwards on the stairs.

  My head and heart pulsed in painful tandem and I was grateful to her for leaving me to my own chaotic thoughts.

  “You don’t have to stay,” I still offered.

  She looked at me like a Head Mistress, her expression deeply at odds with the tight blue dress I had encouraged her to wear. “Don’t be selfish. I want to be here with you.”

  I ducked my head and nodded, warmed and shamed by her gesture. I quickly made my way to the bathroom and shucked my clothes, waiting until the temperature was close to scalding before stepping into the spray. I let the water pound the thoughts out of my head and pressed my cheek to the tiles as sobs finally wracked my aching frame.

  I didn’t know where Sinclair was or why he hadn’t taken me back to the resort. He could have been angry with me for disappearing alone, and I wouldn’t have blamed him, it was incredibly stupid of me. It was our last night together and I had ruined it.

  Otherwise, my encounter with the drunken horn dog at the club didn’t disturb me as much at it might have. I was used to men taking what they wanted and their aggression didn’t surprise me anymore. Which was why, I think, I was so deeply enthralled with Sinclair. He was such a contradiction to the little I knew about men. He struggled to do the right thing, to remain in control and logical despite the desires that burned brightly within him. He was a deeply passionate man beneath the calm resolve and I admired him for it even though I was the one to take that calm from him. The pain increased in my chest when I thought about what I was doing to the woman who loved him back home and to the man Sinclair struggled so hard to be – a good man with morals.

  Self-loathing bloomed in my chest until I almost couldn’t breath. Everything awful that I had done in my short life welled up from my memory banks and flooded me. It is a strange and bone numbing feeling to realize that you are the villain of your own life story.

  Later, after I had finally expelled all my tears and the water had beaten my body and psyche free of all hurt, I lay in the king sized bed with Candy sound asleep beside me. She had insisted on staying until Sinclair came home but he had been gone for over two hours now. I turned my head to look at the glowing face of the alarm clock: 2:43am. I sighed, bone tired but unable to sleep.

  I bolted upright when the door to the suite opened and closed a few minutes later. The sound of male conversation wafted in through the open door and I strained to make out what they were saying.

  Candy stirred beside me and I quickly turned on my side, my heart galloping as I feigned sleep. I felt her sit up and the gentle scratch of her gaze on my face before she slipped out of bed to join the commotion in the living room. As soon as she had gently closed the door behind her, I was up and at the door, cracking it open noiselessly for better audio.

  “It was fucking stupid, Sin,” Cage was saying as he took a seat on the couch.

  “And you know when Cage says something is stupid it’s really idiotic,” Candy added drily as she curled up sleepily on the couch.

  “It was fucking necessary,” Sinclair snapped as he poured himself a snifter of brandy from the bar. “You know the police wouldn’t have done anything.”

  Cage shrugged as he snagged the drink from Sinclair, who promptly poured himself another, but his voice was tight when he said, “You didn’t need to beat the guy to a bloody pulp.”

  “And you didn’t need to help.”

  I covered my mouth to muffle my gasp.

  Sinclair poured more brandy into his now empty glass and prepared another one for Candy before he went to sit beside her. She waved her hand at the glass, dismissing it as she uncurled from her position.

  “This is a talk between men, I think.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. “Not a long one I hope, it’s late and that girl in there needs you.”

  She smiled with her mouth closed tightly over her teeth as she moved towards the door. Her hand was on the handle, gently swinging it closed behind her, when she muttered, “And don’t underestimate how much you need her too.”

  Sinclair’s back was to me as he stared after her and I had the pleasure of watching him peel off his blood soaked shirt and throw it onto a nearby chair, every movement jerky with anger. I had never seen him so thrown off and despite myself attraction sizzled over my skin as his naked back came into sight.

  After a few moments of silence, Cage leaned back against the cushions, his leather pants creaking, and slanted his friend a look. “We have a problem here.”

  I watched Sinclair’s jaw work as he chewed his thoughts over. Finally, he tipped his glass back and drained the scorching liquor. He placed it on the table and braced his hands on his thighs.

  “I know.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  They must have really hurt the creep if they were talking so seriously about the consequences. I shivered and rubbed my bare legs together.

  “I honestly have no idea.” He thrust both hands into his hair and tugged harshly. “How did I get myself into this fucking situation?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that? Because I’ve been wanting to say some things for a while now.”

  “Since when have you censored yourself?”

  “Fair point.” Cage nodded. “D’accord. I think you’re in a relationship for the wrong reasons. Yeah, she’s smart and beautiful and your parents love her and you guys get along well, but that’s not what love is.”

  “And you would know?” Sinclair barked but immediately, he shook his head. “Sorry.”

  “Mon ami, I’m not exactly a relationship guru but I’ve known you for years and
no matter what you try to tell yourself, you can’t control everything. Hell, you shouldn’t be able to. You and Elle…” He shook his head and I sucked in a deep breath. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you cut loose like this. She’s good for you.”

  “She can’t be.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I don’t know anything about her.” He stood up in an explosion of movement and began to pace back and forth. “Where she lives, who her family is… nothing. And she sure as hell doesn’t know anything about me. If she did…” He shook his head as his voice petered off.

  “If she did, she would be just as into you,” Cage asserted. “She’s a strong girl, Sin. Look at how she reacted tonight. She gave that guy exactly what he deserved and didn’t even break down.”

  This seemed to take the wind out of Sinclair’s sails. He sat down with a ragged sigh. “She’s too good for me.”

  “Probably,” Cage agreed easily. “But any girl worth being with always is.”

  They were silent for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. I stood against the wall just inside the bedroom and struggled to unravel the thread of my thoughts. Did Sinclair feel even half as much as I did for him?

  “She scares the fuck out of me,” Sinclair muttered. I had never heard him swear so much.

  “You’ve never been one to back away from fear.”

  “I knew the minute I saw her she would do this,” he said, and I felt a pang in my chest for causing him so much undue pain. No matter what he felt, I knew I would be getting on the plane alone tomorrow.

  “I’ll leave you with her.” Cage unwound his large body from the couch, flipping his long braid over his shoulder as he did so. He clapped Sinclair on the back and brought him close, touching their foreheads together for one long minute. I held my breath at their intimacy. Who was Cage Tracy, lead singer of France’s hottest band, to be so close to Sinclair, a man whose icy barriers seemed nearly impenetrable?

  When they broke apart, Sinclair was calmer, his shoulders relaxed. He stood in the middle of the living for a few minutes after Cage left, tugging a hand through his tousled dark red locks until they were in utter disarray. I longed to go out to him, wrap my arms around his trim waist, press my breasts to his naked back and slide my hands over the moguls of muscle crossing his stomach.