SINS of the Rex Book 3

by Emma Slate

  “Aye, well, now it seems fate is paying me back three-fold. Three boys.”

  “Who will one day be teenagers,” I reminded him. “We’re going to have to lock the liquor cabinet.”

  He laughed. “When they think they’re men enough to handle their scotch, I’ll get them nice and pissed. They’ll live through a hangover and vow moderation from then on.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And that worked for you?”

  Flynn paused. “We might need to lock the liquor cabinet.”

  Late the next morning, Flynn and I finally managed to leave our bed. We showered and got dressed, ready for a day in town.

  Time had stood still in the little Tuscan village of San Gimignano. We walked hand in hand along the brick walkways, taking in the stone towers and buildings. There was a distinctly medieval feel with the many churches and markets. Because we didn’t want to spend time inside, we bypassed the museums. Maybe we’d get to them later, maybe not. We were only here for a week, and I wanted to relax, see the town, and spend the rest of the time holed up in the villa with Flynn. Naked.

  After we’d walked around for a few hours, we took a seat at one of the many outdoor cafés and split a carafe of white wine and a cheese plate.

  “Best honeymoon ever,” I teased him as I spread a glob of goat cheese onto a little piece of focaccia toast.

  “Better late than never, aye?” Flynn asked.

  I fed him the bite of cheese, watching his tongue dart out to catch a crumb on his lip. My insides shook with desire.

  “I still owe you that island vacation,” he reminded me.

  “Maybe when the boys are older and we can travel farther for longer than a week,” I said.

  “Valid point, love.”

  We finished our light supper and then continued our meandering through the town. Shops closed, and the bars began to open. The town transformed. Young adults swarmed the streets, laughing and carousing, looking for fun.

  I briefly remembered the time, not so long ago, when I was nothing more than a history scholar, living in a prewar studio apartment, happy and content. And then I’d met Flynn, and everything I thought I knew about life—and love—had been challenged.

  “Hen?” he asked, noticing that I’d fallen silent. “You all right?”

  I nodded. “Just thinking.”

  “About?”

  “How different my life was not that long ago.”

  “Ah, so we’re in that mood, are we?” he teased, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me into the crook of his body.

  “Don’t joke,” I said. “I’m being serious.”

  “Sorry. What can I do to help?”

  “Just listen.” I looked up at him and he nodded. “I want to go back to work. The twins are weaned and though being a mother is great, I’m more than that. You have the SINS and you have a purpose outside of our family. I need a purpose or I might go insane.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You mean, being the mother of my children isn’t enough of an identity for you?”

  I playfully elbowed him in the ribs and he pretended to wince. He captured one of my hands and brought it to his lips. “Any ideas where you could get a job like the one you had in New York?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No. I did go to Inverness and meet with the history chair department of the university there, but he didn’t have anything to offer me. But that was a while ago. I might try again.”

  “Did you tell him who you were—who we were?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because at the time, I thought using the power of the Campbell name was cheating.”

  “And now?”

  “And now, I think, if I go to one more baby-mommy yoga class I’m going to kill myself.”

  “Well, at least you’re not dramatic.”

  “Beast.”

  He chuckled. “I think I have a solution to your problem.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “There’s a library connected to Dornoch Cathedral. Father Brooks is going out of his mind because everything is out of order and nothing is catalogued properly.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked in disbelief.

  Flynn nodded. “Aye. He’s been meaning to hire someone to get to it, but I said I knew just the person who would enjoy dusty books, hard to read handwriting, and someone who didn’t mind getting lost for hours in the stacks, and stacks, and stacks of shelves.”

  I turned to Flynn and wrapped my arms around him. “You’re perfect.”

  He grinned. “You think so?”

  “I do. You’re so perfect I want to have your babies. Oops. Too late.”

  Chapter 3

  “You’re really taking this ‘no tan lines’ seriously,” Flynn said, strolling across the stone patio, ready for another leisurely afternoon by the villa’s private pool.

  I lifted my head from the lounge chair and grinned at him. “Sunbathing completely nude has its perks.”

  “I agree.” He leaned down to kiss my offered lips. He nibbled on my bottom lip for a moment before pulling back, eyes dark with desire.

  “I’m ready for sunscreen, though. Otherwise I might crisp—and that would not be good.”

  He set his towel down on the lounge chair next to mine and then got comfortable, patting the seat in front of him. I got up, glad that his eyes followed my naked body as I sauntered towards him. I tossed him the tube of sunscreen and then sat down in front of him, giving him my back.

  “Be thorough,” I commanded.

  Flynn chuckled. “Woman, there isn’t a swatch of your skin I won’t get. Trust me.”

  He began to massage my backside, completely ignoring the sunscreen. His lips followed the curve of my shoulder and up my neck. My skin began to hum from his touch.

  “Lean back against me,” he said softly into my ear.

  I did as commanded, and then his hands were trailing down my body to the apex of my thighs.

  “Spread your legs.”

  Tingles of desire shot down my spine as his fingers danced across my skin, playing with the dampness between my legs.

  “God,” I moaned.

  Flynn gently bit my ear as his finger entered me. I drew my legs back to open them wider, wanting more, wanting it deeper. He obliged and added another finger. Squirming against his hand, I began to pant in earnest. Flynn’s free hand went to my breast, massaging it until the nipple stood at attention.

  I was primed and eager, a bow ready to release. Flynn murmured Gaelic words in my ear—I didn’t know their actual meaning, but the seductive intent was unmistakable.

  “That’s it, love.” His fingers were inside me and he took his thumb and pressed it between my folds. I let out a strangled cry. I shook with rapture and release, gripping Flynn’s thighs on either side of me, hard enough to gouge him with my nails.

  Flynn eased out his fingers as I tried to catch my breath. His hands languorously slid down my body, caressing and petting, promising me more.

  A cell phone rang from inside the villa. Neither one of us moved to answer it. Whoever it was could wait. We checked in every night with the two nannies that were staying with the boys, so I didn’t think for a moment it was one of them. The phone quieted and then started up again.

  “I should get that,” Flynn said.

  I moved off of him and reached for his towel, wrapping it around me. “I’ll get it.” I leaned over to give him a gentle kiss before heading inside the villa. Both our cell phones were on the coffee table, but it was Flynn’s that was ringing. Ramsey’s name flashed across the screen. I picked it up.

  “Hey, it’s Barrett,” I said.

  “Hi, lass,” he greeted. “I’m sorry to bother you on your last night in Italy.”

  “You sound tired.”

  “I am tired. Jane dragged me to another one of her events last night.”

  I chuckled. “You fell in love with a society girl,” I reminded him. “Formal wear and mingling with uppity people are par
t of the package. But I know you didn’t call to talk about your fiancée. SINS business or personal business?” I began to walk back to the patio with the phone.

  “SINS business.”

  I strolled across the stone walkway, drawing Flynn’s attention. I held out the phone to him. “Ramsey.”

  He put the cell to his ear and then a moment later put the phone on speaker. “We’re both here,” Flynn said.

  “Arlington’s dead,” Ramsey said without preamble.

  “Dead?” I repeated, my eyes darting to Flynn. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were cold.

  “Killed in prison,” Ramsey explained.

  “By?” Flynn demanded.

  “Not sure yet. Still getting information. I’ll call when I have more.” Ramsey clicked off and the phone went silent.

  “This isn’t bad news, is it?” I asked when the silence had gone on for long enough.

  “Don’t know,” Flynn admitted. “It wasn’t us, though.”

  “The SINS, you mean?”

  He nodded. “Can’t say I’m upset by it. Arlington was a greedy bastard.”

  “Yeah, I won’t mourn him.” The man had aided in the kidnapping of Hawk when he was only a few weeks old. I still couldn’t think about Arlington without wanting to go homicidal.

  “Could be nothing,” Flynn said slowly. “Could be coincidence.”

  “Right. He could’ve made an enemy in prison. That’s a logical conclusion.”

  We were quiet for a moment and then I asked, “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his thighs.

  “So, you didn’t give the order and Duncan didn’t give the order, so the logical conclusion is that it came from someone else. Or another rogue SINS member.”

  “Oh, God, anything but that,” Flynn grumbled.

  “Who else did Arlington piss off?” I wondered.

  “The million dollar question. Ramsey is in London and will do some scouting.”

  “And just when I thought the other shoe wasn’t going to drop…”

  “It drops with a loud thump,” he said with a wry smile.

  “Guess this means the honeymoon is truly over.”

  “So it would seem.” He reached out and touched my cheek in a tender gesture.

  “Pack?” I asked.

  He nodded and stood. “Pack.”

  I opened the front door to our home in Dornoch and was immediately assaulted by mayhem. A full-grown sheep ran to welcome us, bleating loudly. Betty nudged my leg in greeting and I absently patted her while trying to figure out what the hell was going on. There was crying, yelling, and the sound of something crashing against the wall. The house was in complete disarray. Piles of clothes were strewed about the floor, baby toys littered the staircase, and there was one wall of the hallway hand printed in what looked like chocolate syrup.

  “This is our house, right?” Flynn wondered, coming in behind me.

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” I headed for the staircase. “Anna? Beth?” I called out, hoping the two nannies might be able to clue us into what was going on. There was no answer as Flynn and I moved forward. We stood in the doorway of the nursery and found the source of all the noise. Or sources, as it were.

  Hawk stood in his crib, holding onto the bars, tears streaming down his cheeks. He howled like a baying animal and Flynn immediately went to pick him up. Anna had Iain on the changing table and was trying to get his diaper on, but he wasn’t having any of it. He kicked his legs and then I saw a geyser of urine spraying upward. Anna cursed in Gaelic, trying to keep everything under wraps.

  “Anna?” I asked, heading to the crib the twins shared. Noah sat quietly in the crib, his hands clutched around a toy. I ran a hand down his auburn hair and he looked up at me and gave me a gummy smile.

  “That’s it!” Anna yelled, picking up a half-naked Iain and bringing him to me. She unceremoniously dropped him into my arms before glaring at both Flynn and me. Her face quivered in anger.

  “Where’s Beth?” I asked her.

  “Beth quit four days ago. It wouldn’t have been so awful except the housekeeper had to leave due to a family emergency. I’ve been fielding this alone the last few days. Now that you’re both back, I’m quitting too!”

  “Don’t quit,” I protested. “Please?”

  She pointed to Hawk who had calmed the moment Flynn picked him up. “Your son will not sit still. He runs around and I have to chase him.”

  “He has a bump on his head,” Flynn said.

  “Let me see,” I demanded, shuffling Iain while trying to examine Hawk. There was a small red lump on the side of his head. “What happened?”

  “He climbed up onto the couch and jumped off of it. This was after he decided to paint the walls with maple syrup. That’s the day Beth quit,” she explained. “Whenever I put Hawk in his cot, he screamed and screamed until I let him out.”

  “Why didn’t you call someone for help? Why didn’t you call Ash? Or call us? We would’ve come home,” I said.

  Anna’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “I did call Mrs. Buchanan. She told me I wasn’t allowed to call you unless your children were in mortal danger. She gave me a bonus. She sent people to help, but as you can see, I’m alone. No one stayed. I’m leaving, too.”

  Before Flynn or I could say anything to dissuade her, she zoomed past us, leaving us to clean up the destruction.

  “They scared off two plus nannies within a week,” Flynn said. “I think we underestimated our children.”

  A disgusting smell coming from Iain had me grimacing. I gently lifted him away from me so that he could finish his business.

  “If they weren’t ours, I’d be scared off too,” I remarked dryly.

  Chapter 4

  Three days later, we had two new nannies, the maple wall had been cleaned and repainted, and Hawk had been moved into his own room. He had a unique influence on his younger brothers—his mood set the tone and it was never calming.

  We had a welcome home dinner with Ash and Duncan and their six-month-old daughter Carys. She was as an angelic as our boys were demonic. And she looked just like Ash—bright blue eyes, strawberries and cream complexion, and blonde hair.

  Ramsey called, but there was nothing new to report. We discussed contacting Don Archer, the head of the FBI, to see if he had any knowledge on the subject, but we quickly shut down that idea. The last few years taught me that if we could keep information within the family, it was better that way.

  By the end of the week, we were finally back in our routine. I woke up before Flynn and got the boys changed and fed. By the time Evie, one of the new nannies arrived, Flynn was finally awake. Pouring a cup of coffee, he sleepily kissed me and then headed off to his study. Ash showed up for our usual morning jog, blonde ponytail high on her head.

  “Town today?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “I want to stay close to home.”

  Ash pouted. “If we go to town, we can have tea with Glenna.”

  I smiled. “You don’t want tea—you want her homemade cookies.”

  “I love those cookies.”

  The jog was scenic as we passed heather in full bloom, strips of purple everywhere. The Highlands were gorgeous, in every season, but late summer was my favorite. The sunshine and lack of rain made it easier to run; I’d done my fair share of jogging through mud and even snow.

  “What are you wearing to the opening?” Ash asked when we got back to the house.

  “I haven’t even thought about it,” I said truthfully. The crazy of the last few days made me completely forget about the Las Vegas Rex Hotel opening.

  She smiled in gentle understanding.

  “I’m just gonna get something when I’m there.”

  “You? Shopping?” Ash asked, raising her eyebrows.

  I put my arm to the doorframe so I could grasp my leg to stretch it out. “Flynn has assured
me that I’ll find something in one of the many boutiques in the new hotel. He’s already called with my measurements. I just have to go try stuff on. Very minimal effort involved.”

  “Ah, that makes more sense. This is going to the biggest and grandest Rex Hotel yet.”

  I nodded. The hotel had to contend with others of its size and grandeur, and it was Las Vegas. Each hotel tried to outdo its competition. The one thing The Rex Hotel brand did better than any other hotel empire was grandeur and old-world opulence without being tacky or garish.

  “It’s going to be incredible,” I said. “I’ve only seen photos in different stages of construction, but I’m excited to see it at its completion.

  “Are you bringing the kids?” she asked.

  “Would I be a terrible mother if I said no? Hawk can’t sit still and the last thing I want to do is bring babies across an ocean for a three day trip.”

  She frowned. “I thought Flynn was staying in Vegas longer.”

  “He is,” I agreed. “But I’ll fly back after the grand opening. He’ll only be staying a few extra days, anyway.”

  “And then he’ll be home full-time?” she asked.

  “For a while. Until he gets restless and needs a new project.”

  “Most women would resent their husbands for spending so much time away from home and their family.”

  “Most women don’t understand the men they married,” I said.

  “Still, this last year hasn’t been easy on you.”

  “Most of this last year was spent sleep-deprived and attempting to get my body back. Half the time Flynn was home, I wasn’t even aware he was here. I don’t blame him for throwing himself into opening a new hotel.” I looked at her pointedly. “Italy was perfect—we reconnected and I remembered how much I loved Flynn.”

  “You forgot you loved your husband?” she asked with a soft chuckle.

  “No,” I said with a knowing smile. “I just remembered what it’s like to have an adult conversation that doesn’t revolve around children.”

  “And sex. You remembered that you really liked sex.”

  I shook my head. “I remembered that I really love sex.