The Consequence

by Giana Darling

  “No,” I couldn’t help but pout, drawn in by his unusual playfulness. “Not for at least twenty-six hours.”

  “Well, that won’t do at all.”

  He pressed his body flush against mine. Even with the layers of silk and cotton between us, I could feel his heat.

  “What I wouldn’t give to take you back home and leave this godforsaken place. I would tie you spread eagle to our bed and worship you for hours.”

  “Why don’t you?” I breathed, completely forgetting where we were and why.

  A smile ghosted along his firm lips. “I cannot runaway and hide between your thighs every time I am afraid of losing you.”

  “It’s impossible.”

  “I know, I own and operate my own company. As enjoyable as it would be, I can’t afford to go bankrupt,” he teased.

  “No,” I insisted, hauling him even closer by the lapels of his ludicrously expensive suit. “C’est impossible que tu seras sans moi.”

  It is impossible that you will ever be without me.

  That was my truth. As long as Sinclair wanted me, I was his.

  He softened, wrapping me up in my arms so that my cheek was pressed to his chest and his nose was in my hair. I smiled while he drank in a deep lungful of my scent.

  “Okay, my siren, are you ready for the den of dragons?” he asked.

  I threaded my fingers through his and looked down my nose at him. “I was born ready.”

  I wasn’t.

  The Percy mansion was the American equivalent to a French chateau or an Italian villa but without any of the serenity or warmth. It was like a mausoleum.

  A real-life butler with a large mustache answered the massive oak front door. He immediately gave us a cordial greeting and seemed delighted to shake hands with Sin, but I was too intimidated to smile at him.

  Sinclair smoothed his thumb over the back of our joined hands as we entered the main hall. Dark wood glistened beautifully from every corner, swooping down in a double curved staircase that framed the entryway. My heels wobbled on the plush Persian carpet we stood on as I took everything in.

  I caught my reflection in a large gilt mirror to the left after I woodenly handed my coat to the butler. My cheeks were pale under wide anxious eyes and my curls spilled like dark blood over my shoulders in the dim light. I was wearing a demure dress, thinking that the black satin and the high-necked halter would read as sophisticated. Instead, it flowed down my curves like an oil slick, highlighting the nipples that had hardened immediately from the cool air outside and the arrogant curve of my ass. The black made me look like a slut, not a lady and even the pearls at my ears and the elegant pearl collar at my throat could do nothing to elevate my class.

  Sinclair’s hand found the skin of my bared back, his fingers toying with the long silky ribbon holding my dress together at my neck. “The only thing that will get me through this is the thought of unraveling you like a present at the end of the night.”

  I shivered and blushed fiercely while the butler pretended not to notice. It took me another moment to notice the faint murmur of voices floating from a room further down the left hallway.

  My gaze flew to Sinclair.

  It sounded like more than just his parents were there for dinner.

  “Hainesport?” Sinclair asked in his dangerously mild tone. “I was under the impression it was just my parents, my girlfriend and me for dinner tonight?”

  The mustached Hainesport cleared his throat awkwardly. “You are mistaken, Mr. Sinclair. Your parents are having a small gathering to celebrate your father’s announcement.”

  Sin stiffened. “Announcement?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Putain,” Sin swore under his breath.

  He looked down at me, a muscle ticking in his jaw. I reached up to press the spot with my fingers, offering support even though I had an awful feeling that this night was already taking a turn for the worse.

  “They are waiting for you in the dining room,” Hainesport said, already making his way towards the party.

  I looked up at Sinclair without masking the panic in my eyes. His own flashed with protectiveness but he only reached down to press a hard kiss to my lips.

  “Bigger than the world, my siren.”

  For the first time since he had uttered that phrase, I didn’t take comfort from the words.

  I followed after him with my heart in my throat, beating so strongly it threatened to choke me. The sense of doom I felt stalking after us made me want to pick up my skirts and runaway but I reminded myself that this was important. If I wanted to be with Sinclair, I had to accept this part of his life, the elevated, refined society he had been transplanted into upon his adoption. I wished fruitlessly that Cage could be there but I knew he neglected his foster parents as much as they did him.

  When we rounded the corner, we were greeted with the sight of over two dozen elegantly dressed guests. Sinclair cursed softly again.

  As if drawn by the sound, conversations fell quiet and eyes swiveled loudly to look at us. I watched with grim fascination as they catalogued my wanna-be-classy-but-still-slutty dress, the harlot red of my hair and the hand clasped within my own.

  For one half of half a second, they seemed perplexed. They were trying to reconcile past meetings with Elena and what they remembered her as with the woman before them now. They wrinkled their collective noses.

  Had Elena always been so… garish?

  Another second and they had their answer. I saw it in the tightening of their eyes, how the women searched subtly for their men and how they, in turn, searched my body subtly for further evidence of my curves.

  This wasn’t the up and coming New York City lawyer they had met and admired. This was someone else, and she was considerably less.

  I tried to tell my insecurities to give it a rest but their combined gaze was the definition of judgment.

  “Daniel,” Willa separated herself from the crowd, gliding forward in an exquisite icy blue dress that Elena might have worn. “We worried you wouldn’t make it.”

  Sin’s lips tightened at the passive aggressive comment. “It’s nice to see you too, Mom.”

  He kept my hand in his as they exchanged cheek kisses.

  She frowned up at him. “You need a haircut.”

  I saw the smile try to claim his mouth and took pleasure in knowing it was because of me.

  “I like it this way.”

  “It looks unkempt.”

  “I prefer to think it looks piratical,” he retorted before turning slightly to wink at me.

  I giggled softly.

  Willa finally deigned to look over at me, her eyebrows prematurely raised in condensation.

  “Giselle Moore, I wish we were meeting again under different circumstances.”

  “Oh? Are we commiserating or celebrating tonight?” I asked, deliberately obtuse.

  Her eyes narrowed, trying to discern if I was being smart or not.

  “I’m speaking, of course, about the fact that you are here as my son’s date and not, as you are meant to be, as his future sister-in-law.”

  Wow.

  I blinked, stunned that she had the audacity to just come right out and lay battle lines. My anger warred with exhaustion; I was so tired of fighting.

  Sinclair, apparently, was not.

  He stepped forward with his hand wrapped securely around my waist and though he spoke quietly, his words were forceful. “This is the woman I love, Mom. If you love me or respect me in anyway, you will treat her with the kindness she deserves.”

  Willa stiffened, a muscle ticking in her strong jaw. Sin may have not been her biological son but I could see where he had inherited his arctic freeze temper.

  “I mean it,” Sinclair warned.

  “Oh, I know,” she said, softly. “Hence my shock.”

  She studied me out of the corner of her eye, cataloguing everything about me with the precision of a 3D scanner. I stood straight and tall before the scrutiny, secured in my confidence by
the feel of Sin’s hand on my hip.

  “And my begrudging approval,” she added.

  My head snapped around to look at Sin’s reaction but he seemed just as mystified as I was.

  Willa laughed. “I may not be the most maternal woman in the world and I certainly cannot approve of the inception of your relationship but if you rebelled against every single thing I taught you about morality and success in order to be with this woman…” Her nose scrunched delicately. “In order to be with you, Giselle, then I won’t waste my time and alienate my only son.”

  The words Cage is your son too pooled on my tongue like excessive saliva but I refrained from saying anything.

  “Welcome to the family, dear.” She smiled again but it was wooden as she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Next time we’ll go shopping together before an event.”

  Bitch.

  I smiled demurely, ignoring the huff of amused breath from Sinclair next to me.

  “Thank you, Willa.”

  She inclined her head regally. I could see clearly how she would have liked Elena. They both wore their artifice and insincerity like a string of highly polished pearls.

  Without another word, she turned and made her way over to a small group that I recognized as a Congresswoman, a prolific political advisor, and a journalist from the NY Times.

  “Merde.”

  “Careful, most of the people here speak French,” Sinclair reminded me.

  “As if I wasn’t intimidated enough already,” I muttered under my breath.

  Sin smiled at me but before he could say anything a short man in a suit with his sparse hair carefully arranged around his bald crown approached us.

  “Daniel Sinclair, it has been a very long time,” he said while stabbing his hand towards us.

  “It has. How are you Mr. Carroll?”

  My eyes widened before I could curb my reaction. Mr. Carroll was one of the most famous defense attorneys in the country. I knew this, of course, because Elena had been obsessed with the little man/big lawyer for years. It was her dream to battle against him in court one day and beat him. She had mentioned once that whenever she went into court, she pretended Mr. Carroll was her opposing council.

  I imagined the shrill sound of my self-esteem rushing from the puncture whole in my confidence. How in the world was a poor artist from Naples supposed to converse with such a man?

  Happily, Mr. Carroll took care of the job for me. He turned my way with a small but genuine grin that made him fair more comely.

  “Miss Moore, it is my absolute pleasure to meet you. My wife and I have been deep admirers of your work since your second exhibition in Paris, I believe it was in 2013?

  “Oh yes,” I said, miraculously harnessing my shock. “It was my first nude collection.” And this esteemed man had bought some of that work.

  I tried not to freak out; settling on what I hoped was a demure smile instead.

  Sinclair squeezed my hand in support.

  Mr. Carroll chuckled. “Yes, I remember well. My wife is a good friend of Terry Paulson. It was she who turned her on to your art. I must admit, we bought one of your pieces at your last showing and my wife was incredibly disappointed that she didn’t get to meet you. She will be furious that she missed dinner tonight.”

  I laughed, charmed by this innocuous-looking yet charming man. “You must give her my card and tell her to call. There are a few pieces that I left out of the collection if she would be interested in a private viewing?”

  His eyes widened comically. “I would have brownie points for years if I could secure that. We were looking at the preview catalogue for your next collection just the other night and already put a hold on one of the pieces.”

  This time, we all laughed.

  “Well, I’m happy to do it. May I ask which piece you bought?”

  To my delight, he blushed faintly. “Candy.”

  He’d bought the painting of Candy Kay sucking salaciously on an oversized red lollipop. I was proud of both Sinclair and myself for remaining sober.

  “One of my favorites too,” Sinclair said with a wink.

  God, I loved that man.

  Mr. Carroll grinned. “Of course, you must be incredibly proud of her, Sinclair. A man has to wonder what a gorgeous artist is doing with a workaholic, fuddy-duddy like you, eh?”

  I snorted before I could help it.

  Sinclair looked bemused by the comment but shrugged good-naturedly. “You can understand me when I say she brought color to my life, Isaac.”

  He nodded. “I can, I can. Now, if I may insist, I would love your card, dear girl.”

  I opened my mouth to explain that I had left my cards in my coat but Sinclair beat me to the punch, pulling out his slim leather wallet to retrieve one of my cards. He chatted briefly with the man before he handed it over but I was oblivious to the conversation. I was focused on the man who kept my business cards in his wallet and happily shared his love for me with almost strangers.

  Everything awful in life was worth having this man by my side.

  When Mr. Carroll had excused himself, Sin looked down at me with a broad grin. The expression slipped slightly, replaced by passion-narrowed eyes and tensed lips. His hand tightened in mine.

  “Do not look at me like that in public, siren, or you may not like what I will do to you in front of these many eyes.”

  I swallowed thickly, tilting my head back to expose my throat, like a beta wolf before her Alpha. “I think I would like it.”

  Sinclair smiled down at me wickedly and whispered, “If you are a good girl, my siren, I promise to reward you for the tedium of this party.”

  A shiver coursed down my spin. I couldn’t understand how deeply attracted I was to this man. Though, of course, he was absurdly handsome and his tightly leashed control only served to emphasize the depth of his hidden passions. At first, I thought maybe the taboo nature of having an affair added an extra explosive element to our chemistry but my theory was contradicted every time he touched me. We had been living together, however unconventionally, for three months and the kindling that he had ignited within me in Los Cabos was only growing, now a raging inferno that threatened to devour all other rational thought.

  Sin turned slightly in front of me, shielding me from the majority of the curious onlookers so that he could gently pinch one of my tightly furled nipples between two knuckles. “Would you like that?”

  “Yes, sir. I promise to be a good girl,” I breathed.

  He smiled sharply and abruptly twisted my captured nipple so that sweet pain radiated through my chest.

  “I know you are self-conscious with these people but you are the color amid all this black and white bullshit, do not let them take that away from you.”

  I bit my lip. As punishment, he pulled hard on my nipple, making me gasp.

  “I am so out of my league here,” I murmured.

  Sinclair’s soft chuckle stirred my hair as he pulled me against his chest. He gently kneaded my hips with his fingertips, every press of his fingers against the silky material of my dress made my breath catch. Even though I knew we were in the corner of the room and that the most people could say was that we were inappropriately close to each other, my slight worry over what the guests would think only heightened my arousal.

  “Do you remember that second night in Mexico?” He breathed against my ear.

  “Mmm.”

  “I was hard the entire night thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you after Iago’s party.”

  I panted slightly as his grip suddenly tightened, pressing me tightly to the arousal tenting the front of his trousers. I pressed a hand to his chest and felt the heavy thrum of his pulse. It was intoxicating to know that his heart beat for me.

  He dipped his head low to lick a path around my left ear before blowing on it. “I want you to focus on all the wicked ways I will pleasure your body later tonight. How I am going to bind you to our bed and spend hours between your sweet thighs while these pert nipples
strain beneath those painful metal clamps.”

  Fuck, I was panting now.

  “I want you to focus on how you will beg me to let you come on my face, how wet your sweet little pussy will be when I finally slide into you from behind, your ass red from my hand.”

  “Sinclair,” I moaned.

  I swear I could have orgasmed just from listening to him speak to me in that voice like smoke and leather.

  He chuckled darkly and pressed a sweet kiss to my nose. “Focus on that, my love. Now, are you ready? I believe dinner is being served.”

  A ragged groan tore from my throat, aroused and enraged by his flippancy. He only chuckled again and tucked my arm firmly in his to escort me to the dining room.

  The room was absolutely gorgeous with vaulted ceilings that sparkled gold in the light from three delicate chandeliers.

  “Wow,” I breathed as images of Beauty & The Beast flooded my head. “I can’t believe you grew up here.”

  “I didn’t really. Boarding school, remember? In the summers, we usually went travelling. I still have a designated bedroom here but I can count the number of times that I’ve actually used it.”

  “Still…” I drifted off, overwhelmed by the splendor.

  Sin chuckled under his breath while he settled me into my seat before taking the one beside me.

  “Daniel, darling, your place card is up here next to your father,” Willa called lightly from the head of the endlessly long table.

  Sin stiffened mid-way through sitting down. I watched him with curiosity as he moved away from me towards his mother. He stopped beside the empty chair at her left, dipped down to place a chaste kiss on her cheek and plucked the place card from the table. Willa watched with vague surprise and amusement as he reclaimed his place beside me and switched out the name cards.

  There was a rush of whispers across the table but Sinclair ignored them. Without looking at me, his gaze sweeping across the startled guests, he lifted our clasped hands to place a lingering kiss on my knuckles. I blushed but, thankfully, everyone became distracted by the beautifully presented first course that arrived before us.

  Sinclair was quiet as we ate despite the numerous attempts by other guests to chat with him but I was happy to engage with the middle-aged matron beside me, a Mrs. Hastings, who regaled me with tales of her youthful glory days. I was laughing at one such story when I noticed Sinclair had stiffened beside me.